#the masked henchman
Text
Adding more to the Casey Jr and Grandfather Draxum au. (I desperately need help with an au name cause I got nothing.) (Edit it has a name now; Grand-Evil-Pa au) :
During the year in-between Casey Jr arriving and the start of the series Draxum takes Casey Jr with him on business with Big Mama. Draxum warned him not to call too much attention to himself, just stand there looking menacing and under no circumstances to take off his mask. There’s no telling what Big Mama would do if she knew he had a human with him.
Big Mama: “Well! If it isn’t my favorite warring warrior scientist. Oh, and what’s this! You brought a friend! I wasn’t aware you had any. Not that I mind, the more the merrier. Which is why I’m sure you won’t mind that I have my own guest as well.”
[Cue Big Mama’s Assistant walking out of the shadows from behind Casey Jr.]
Big Mama: “Mmm, I’ve got a splendid idea! Why don’t we give our dear friends an opportunity to get acquainted while we discuss business. I’d hate for anyone to get bored.”
Draxum can’t object without risking burning bridges with Big Mama, she’s a wild card and while this seems like a trap the consequences of denying her could be worse. Reluctantly he leaves with Big Mama but shots Casey Jr one last look that says: Be careful and don’t screw this up.
They both stand there in silence the whole time.
Casey Jr’s internally panicking. Cause he knows who this is and he really want to hug her but knows that he really shouldn’t. Questions are flying through his head like: How are things going on between Draxum and Big Mama right now? Also what are they here for? He hasn’t been asking questions to avoid getting on Draxum’s bad side, but that was bitting him back at the moment.
[Big Mama and Draxum return. Big Mama turns to her assistant who simply nods.]
Big Mama: “Oh I’m glad you had a good time! We should do this more often. Come by to dinner some time Draxy-poo. I might have reconsidered by then. Make sure to bring the human as well.”
[stunned and panic silence from Draxum and Jr]
Big Mama: “It’s rather rude to not introduce your companion, wouldn’t you say? I’d love to at least know their name. Go ahead.”
Draxum deciding to pull the rug under her and give her a taste of her own medicine:
“Oh him? This is my Grandson.”
[Draxum hurries to leave before she can ask question. Not that she’d be able to because she was in shocked silence for the next 10 minutes while her assistant shock her vigorously]
Part 3
The Dinner Big Mama mentioned (Part 4)
#rottmnt#casey jr#rottmnt movie#rottmnt casey jr#casey jones jr#rise casey jr#casey junior#rottmnt spoilers#casey jones junior#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt baron draxum#baron draxum#rise draxum#big mama#rise big mama#first instance of Draxum being dramatic and petty to big mama in this au#it’ll be a staple#Casey Jr meanwhile is extremely joyful to be called grandson#Big mama’s assistant feels sense of comradery with Jr cause he also wears a mask and doesn’t talk#also the being a supervillain’s henchman thing#but mostly the mask thing#Grand-Evil-Pa au
150 notes
·
View notes
Text
as someone who adores obscured face/eye(s) character design and even has an obscured eyes sona i dont know why i havent played this game sooner . thank u @rottenraccoons i love it here cant wait for more
#im sorry my lame humor i just imagined responding to cirrus with henchman talk and laughed stupidly to myself for minutes#also i Really wanted to use that meme img . thanks for your contitbution kier..#very fun to come up with oc masks!! not hard considerin my sona already but the fun of thinking still remained!!#obscura vn#cirrus#kier#fanart#soilscratch#kino the beetle
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mineta is the only person Nozomi doesn't mask in front of and he finds the difference jarring. He doesn't call her on it right away, but when he does Nozomi seems to be embarrassed at being "seen".
To the rest of their class, Nozomi is a cheerful yet vapid ditz that can be a little insensitive at times. But Mineta knows. She's sharper than she lets on, and deeply, searingly bitter. Jealous, petty, vindictive, manipulative. He sort of likes that better, because at least she's honest then. He doesn't know why she wants to be a hero, she won't tell him, but the fact she's even in UA is proof enough (to him) that somewhere, deep in there, is a good heart.
#Mha oc#Bnha oc#The masking is in reference to the horrible case of anti social personality disorder she developed while working as a henchman#You know#As a 7-11 year old
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some Welony Stuff
-Since she didn't have an elaborate backstory like Melony did, her Melon form wasn't alive, so she has some of Majora's memories instead
-Really likes eating fruit, especially bananas
-Always has snacks on her so she can keep her hunger bar full
-Prone to bouts of insomnia
-Is trying to figure out how to switch to Creative Mode so she can use the full extent of her abilities, as a side project
-At some point managed to take over the Yiga Clan. Apparently they worship Ganon less because they like him and more because they hate Link, so they worship the other LoZ main villains too.
-Has multiple demons who owe her favors, most of them due to her inheriting the contracts from Majora, though there are a few she earned herself
-Considers Byte a useful annoyance in his current state, but lets him think he's either an equal partner or calling the shots depending on which one keeps him loyal
-Likes chickens just as much as her "father," Steve, and has a swarm of trained attack Cuccos she's personally raised from eggs. She has named all of them and can effortlessly tell which is which
#smg4#smg4 ocs#the goomba who sold the world au#corrupted save file au#welony#oc lore#majora's mask#yiga clan#byte#the toxic ringmaster#minecraft steve#cucco#byte's ego is too big for him to notice that he's a henchman#the fact that welony sees steve as her dad does nothing to stop her from trying to destroy him if he's in the way of her plans#yes she is technically a cannibal#and damn proud of it
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Joker started running his gang small time, picked up a few henchmen here and there, and slowly worked his way up to being a boss on par with Falcone in terms of organizational status and how many men are in his employ.
It was fun at first, until he realized he was essentially the boss of an ORGANIZATION now, which means he can no longer afford to give small cuts of cash to small groups of henchman, he had to run it like an actual business and pay everyone a working wage, not to mention giving added benefits like healthcare and paid leave, as such benefits would keep his men from leaving and reducing his power.
Pretty much Joker is the only "boss" to have a problem with this. Penguin created an entire insurance company just for his men who work with him, Black Mask sees to each one of his men's personal financial needs himself if need be, and Falcone owns major hospitals and car garages so insurance is never an issue with his men.
Joker doesn't have an issue with it because he has to pay them and give them benefits, tho. He has an issue with it because the math behind it is boring. It never occurred to him even once to hire an accountant or something to take care of that stuff. Harley does do it herself on the side to make his life easier.
#joker#carmine falcone#henchman#supervillains#penguin#oswald cobblepot#black mask#roman sionis#harley quinn#harleen quinzel
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
A very generic Henchman 🥷
This guy is one of the henchmen for the previously posted Man with No Eyes 👀
They don't look like much... but it's what is on the inside that counts 🤖
#art#artist#illustration#comic#character design#character art#graphic novel#horror#oc art#oc artwork#digital drawing#digital art#digital illustration#evil henchman#he doesnt even have dental hos benefits are so bad#mask#fantasy#supernatural#super villian#antagonist#wip#work in progress
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
True Love's Kiss
Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
"ME?!"
Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.
"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"
"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."
"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"
"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."
Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.
"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"
Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.
Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).
"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"
"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.
"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."
"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"
Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.
"Y/N... likes me?"
Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.
"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"
Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.
Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.
You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.
"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."
Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.
"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."
"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"
"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.
"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."
"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"
That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.
Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.
"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.
It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.
Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"
Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.
"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."
Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.
"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
"This is such a bad idea."
Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.
"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."
"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."
"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."
"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"
"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.
"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.
"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.
"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."
"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.
"That remains to be seen."
"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.
"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."
The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.
Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.
"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"
"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.
"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"
"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.
"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.
"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."
At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.
"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"
"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."
It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.
Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.
Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.
"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.
"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.
Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.
Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!
You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.
"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"
He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.
"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.
After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.
"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."
He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.
"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."
Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.
"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."
Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.
"Oh, screw it!"
He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.
He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.
"What is... Where am I?"
Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.
When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.
"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."
Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.
"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."
"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."
You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.
"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.
"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."
You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.
"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"
"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."
You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.
"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.
"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."
You looked at Azul incredulously.
"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"
Azul was quite confused now.
"Do you not want money?"
"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."
...
🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞
It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.
No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.
Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.
For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.
Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.
"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.
There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.
"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."
He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.
You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.
It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.
No matter what it took, he would find a cure.
"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."
"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."
"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"
Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.
"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."
His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.
"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."
"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.
"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"
Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.
"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."
Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.
"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.
"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.
Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.
"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."
Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.
"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."
Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.
"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"
"Mine, probably."
Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.
You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.
"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."
Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.
"My word against yours, potato."
...
Buy me a Kofi! ☕
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#disneytw#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.
Complete opposites but totally work
(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)
Mabel Pines!Reader
You guys work very, very well together
I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang
He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be
Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while
But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you
But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics
To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you
While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there
So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful
He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy
But it good for him
His mama absolutely LOVES you
She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes
You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back
You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys
Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?
He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed
Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you
But he can't resist you for very long
He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side
He always saw you looking on the bright side of things
So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him
He found it quite hot though I can't lie
You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together
Even Uncle Aaron saw it
He uses you sometimes as a little diversion
A fake damsel in distress might I say
He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations
You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs
New gloves? Done
New mask? Done
Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag
You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well
You can't help yourself
But he absolutely loves it
You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair
Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like
"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"
Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of
Absolutely soul mates
Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:
Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.
Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.
Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.
Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.
"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.
"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.
"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.
"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands
"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.
"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.
"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.
"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.
"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.
"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.
"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.
"...seriously?"
"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.
"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.
"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.
"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.
"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.
"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."
You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.
It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.
He finally sighed.
Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.
Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove
#across the spiderverse#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spider verse x reader#spider man: across the spider verse#into the spiderverse x reader#miles morales earth 42 x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#miles morales x reader#miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 11.0k
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! actor!au, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), oral (f!receiving), ooc Toji (no, really!!)
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This is very self-indulgent because I was once again infected with brain worms because of this post.
✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮
Toji is a typecast kind of actor. He started out as just a guy they call in when they need some muscle. He’s got the training for all sorts of things. Martial arts, swordplay. If a background character needs to look believably menacing, he’s the one to get on contract. And over time his bit parts as henchman number three and thug with one line slowly evolved into something more involved, because there is no denying that Toji has a face for film. Eyes that come with a vulpine sharpness, like he knows something you don’t, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that’s as marketable as any beauty mark. Really, he looks mean, but that’s exactly what a villain is supposed to look like. He’s all harsh angles that any photographer would kill to work with. So he slowly builds up a filmography from the most insignificant masked goon to a formidable kingpin, front and center. Goes from an uncredited extra to damn near top billing as a main antagonist and that’s just fine with him when the bigger roles come with a paycheck to match. It’s not anything new for him. Toji spent his whole life fighting and training. How else could he make all those stunts look so easy? It’s only right that he makes a career out of all those grueling days of harsh conditioning. And it sweetens the deal when he finally finds his girl.
Every villain needs arm candy. It’s a constant revolving door of pretty faces standing next to him whenever the director yells “action!” So many that they begin to blend together in his mind and he spends interviews bullshitting his way through any thoughts regarding his female co-stars. “She was fine, I guess.” And of course, he thinks she did a great job in that movie he’s never seen. Empty platitudes to satisfy the interviewer and keep his manager happy that he’s playing nice about the tedious media circuit. Usually his roles don’t require that much attention to detail. He’s coasted this far on his graveled voice and dour expressions, so he never bothers to pay more than the bare minimum of attention. He learns his line and character names. He knows who the blonde character named Amy is but without the blindingly bright platinum hair he couldn’t pick the actress that played her out of a lineup. So it makes his life a lot easier when they find him a girl that works.
Something about charisma and chemistry. All the buzzwords he’s fed over conference calls boil down to you being his girl. The perfect match for his onscreen persona. Real pretty with just enough training that you can fill in on most of your own stunts. So it makes sense when the two of you start cropping up as a package deal. If there’s an action movie in need of a big bad, Toji’s name is put forward, and if he needs a girl–and, sometimes, even when he doesn’t–his people are quick to toss your name into the ring. He’s not sure on the details, if your agents have worked out some kind of joint agreement or if it’s just coincidence that all the casting directors settle on you as his opposite but he’s not complaining.
You’re real easy on the eyes in a way that goes beyond basic celebrity standards. You don’t look standard. The other girls he’s worked with were standardized. All coming in the same kind of package, but with you he can pick out true individual features. He can tell when the makeup artists fuck around with your eyebrows and overdoes your lipstick. Maybe it’s ’cause he’s always looking at you nowadays, but it might also just be how gorgeous you are. Of course he wants to know what such a pretty girl looks like. It’s one of the perks of the profession and Toji is nothing if not selfish about almost everything. He’s not acting for the art, it just gives him the biggest payout at the end of the day. He likes his bank account with a ridiculous amount of zeros and it just so happens that you come along with that.
He can’t see why his manager is suddenly complaining when your names start getting tossed around in tandem more often than not. Why shouldn’t Toji date you if he wants to? And he wants to. But apparently he’s supposed to maintain a certain aura in the media. Mean and unapproachable. Which he is. There’s plenty of videos of him manhandling the paparazzi to attest to that. But that means he’s gotta be something unobtainable, and making heart eyes–he’s definitely not doing anything like that–at his favorite little co-star is certainly the opposite of unobtainable.
He tries to be pragmatic about it, saying he’s just keeping in character. Mean to everyone but his girl. But his manager isn’t going for that. Something about your people using him for clout since he’s got a few years of experience on you as the new kid on the block. Still Toji can’t see the problem. This whole damn industry is built on connections and favoritism so why can’t he help you a little if he wants to. The mere mention of his lack of concern has Shiu groaning, the sound chopped up and drawn out by a poor connection.
“You’re my most difficult client, do you know that?” The man sighs like he’s trying to wrangle a toddler into behaving.
“I’m your only client.” Toji reminds him, earning a scowl through the laptop screen.
“And whose fault is that?” Shiu sounds so put out that Toji doesn’t bother entertaining the idea that it’s anything other than his fault. Somehow. Even though it was Shiu that approached him after he spent a couple years as a free agent that productions had to play phone tag with to book. Now he’s at least a little serious about this whole acting thing, but Shiu wasn’t there from the start so he gets what he gets. An insanely marketable asset if the only thing you want to be known for is managing the big, scary guy in every action movie out in the past few years. In pigeonholing himself into what he’s good at, Toji has tied Shiu’s hands but that’s not really his issue. Especially not when he’s pissing him off, telling him to stop talking nice to you.
“All I’m saying is a little discretion would be highly appreciated.” Toji nods like he’s taking his manager’s words to heart but he knows there’s not much the man can do without shooting himself in the foot by pissing off the only person he’s got on contract.
The people wanna see the two of you together. Toji wants to see the two of you together. And you’re not putting up a fuss about seeing him on every set you show up to. The only person upset with the arrangement is Shiu, and Toji barely listens to anything the man says in the first place. So when you let slip during a break to reset a scene that you’re going through the audition process for some indie thriller starting up production he’s quick to piece together enough information to get himself in the door of an audition without Shiu knowing. You’re new enough that you’ve never had anyone else as your love interest and something cocky and maybe a tad bit possessive in him wants to keep it that way. He likes how the two of you look together, so why ruin a good thing by letting someone else work with you when you already work so well together? And you just have to look so happy to see him when the final cast is announced.
Here you come, all smiles and newly dyed hair, asking why he didn’t tell you he was trying for a part, too, and he just shrugs to keep from telling a lie. Because the truth is he wasn’t supposed to be trying for a role but like clockwork a villain was needed and he showed up to fill the spot. And it works out in his favor because he’s not here to play some one note guy with a gun. Instead he’s playing a psychopath or sociopath–he’s still not a hundred percent on the difference but you explained that there definitely is a difference–and it just so happens that his character is obsessed with you. Shiu made a snide comment about “a little on the nose, isn’t it,” when the first script came through but Toji elected to ignore him. It’s not some well-guarded secret that he likes working with you so who cares if it seems a bit much that he’s somehow always one step behind you.
Apparently, the fans care. They care a lot. He’s still trying to wrap his head around people caring so much about what he’s doing. When Shiu gets to throwing around media jargon he usually tunes him out but he hears enough about it from you that he’s starting to recognize certain terms. Fans, stans–two different things, maybe–fansites, and saesaengs–at least that’s what Shiu calls them, and they’re bad fans. Toji would rather call them what they are, which is crazed stalkers, but in the industry there needs to be a code word for everything. He’s caught you scrolling through your own tags on social media more than once, “just to see what they’re saying,” you insist, and then sulk when Toji takes your phone because you don’t need to have an unfiltered experience about how people view you online. It’s a dangerous place for someone so sensitive. You don’t have the same aloofness that he has to how people perceive him and he doesn’t need you getting your feelings hurt.
Supposed fans like to pick at every little thing people in the spotlight do. An hour on whatever app you’re scrolling that day would pick you apart like buzzards over roadkill and leave you nursing your hurt feelings for days to come. New insecurities you haven’t even considered having would crop up because one person made a comment on your nose. Never mind the fact that it looks perfect just the way it is. At least to Toji. But you’re always quick to remind him that he has something nice to say no matter how you look, which isn’t wrong but he’s never lied or over embellished his thoughts. You are beautiful. It’s not his fault for pointing out the obvious. And his blatant, albeit silent, admiration works towards your newest project together. He hears the crew whispering between takes about how unnerving he is on camera, and how it doesn’t entirely seem like an act when he’s looking at you.
It isn’t. Although Toji isn’t quite unhinged enough to stalk you or slaughter anyone that gets too close. He doesn’t need to anyway. You offer yourself up so sweetly like you can’t tell how frustratingly tempting you are. He tries to behave. For your benefit. He doesn’t care about Shiu’s constant reminders for “discretion.” And if your agent has anything to say to you about it, you’ve yet to mention it. And you never turn down his offers to go out after work.
Someone asks for your autograph when you enter the restaurant together, begging for a picture with the two of you before a starry-eyed hostess ushers you to a private table. That picture will cost him another afternoon of Shiu yapping in his ear about tarnishing his reputation but that’s a problem for later because Toji is still thinking about how you rested your hand on his chest and leaned against his shoulder for the photo. There’s probably nothing to it. Intimacy like that comes like muscle memory after so many photoshoots for movie stills and promotional images. There’s a poster somewhere of the two of you posed in just the same position but that had been directed by a photographer. This you did on your own. Toji tries not to dwell on it as you flip through the menu. He knows from experience that you’ll stare blankly at the words printed on the paper, flipping through each page like you’re reading it, just to look up with that deer in headlights face that you get anytime a waiter asks for your order. You can deal with a swarm of paparazzi with a breezy smile but the moment someone asks you what you want to eat you freeze up.
“I don’t know what to get,” you hum, still looking over all the options. Toji knows what you want. It’s an Italian restaurant and he knows you like pasta. He picks your order before his own, setting the menu aside to watch you pretend to make a choice. It’s cute, because he knows you’re genuinely trying to pick but without fail you start to blank as soon as the waitress saunters over to the table looking far more primped than the others he’s seen milling around. There’s gloss on her lips and her hair is pulled back so neatly it looks freshly done. It almost looks like she’s just clocked in except her cheeks are flushed bright and there’s a slight tremble to her hands. The hostess must’ve spread the word that celebrities were dining at table 17. She smiles real big, eyes fixed on Toji as you frantically flip through your menu, trying to decide on something. He reaches over to take it from you, giving the overeager waitress both your orders before sending her on her way.
“Thanks,” you smile. Of course, he wants to say, I got you, baby. Instead he keeps his mouth shut, nodding in acknowledgment as he waits for you to start up a new conversation. You’re on about something to do with production, how you’re still not used to being important enough to have your own assistant on set, when the waitress returns with your drinks. Her hand linger on Toji’s glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as if she’s waiting for him to reach for the cup and brush his fingers over hers. It’s like something straight out of a romance movie and he might’ve found the humor in the attempt if it weren’t so annoying. Instead of reaching for his drink he sits back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the girl.
She interrupted your story about you assistant messing up your breakfast order yesterday, but you don’t seem bothered as you stick your straw in your drink, humming happily after the first sip. He ordered you one of those Shirley Temples that you always get, candied cherries floating in the soda and grenadine. After a beat longer of Toji’s unflinching glare, the waitress finally retreats with a quiet chirp about your food being out soon. You thank her and Toji wants to tell you not to waste your breath, but that would probably only confuse you. For as intuitive as you can be, you still haven’t grasped the fact that Toji would kill to be your man. It would almost be endearing how oblivious you are if it wasn’t grating on his last nerve. Here you are thanking a girl for flirting with him like it didn’t take every shred of his patience to not tell her to fuck off and leave him alone.
“So, anyway,” you continue, twirling the straw wrapper between your fingers, “he’s so used to assisting Kyoko”–some other actress Toji’s heard of in passing–“that he never actually asked for my order and just came back with her usual. Apparently she likes tomatoes in her eggs but I had to pick them out. And my omelet still ended up tasting like tomatoes. It was so bad I couldn’t finish it.” You screw your face up like just recalling the story has brought the taste back to your tongue. Toji already knows about your aversion to tomatoes. He always reminds the wait staff to remove it from your order whenever you’re out together. All it took was one time watching you peel a tomato off your burger for him to commit the little quirk to memory.
“You should get a new one,” he tells you. He’s had his fair share of assistants but they’re a rotating roster of equally intimidated people flinching every time he calls their name like he’s going to tell them to go play in traffic. Usually he just wants a drink or something from the restaurant up the street but something about Toji is just so suffocating that most assistants barely last through filming. There are very few people that can tolerate his terse personality but he’s glad you’re one of them. So pretty and so sweet like you don’t realize that everyone on the production staff avoids him unless it’s absolutely necessary to speak with him. It’s half reputation and half unmitigated judgment. Toji would like to think he’s not all bad. He can be cordial in a distant way when not provoked but so many people seem to have an expert ability to pluck at his nerves.
“Nah, it’s fine.” You’re laughing like it isn’t a big deal that you weren’t able to eat because some inattentive staff member didn’t do their job correctly. “I told him what happened and he apologized, even asked if he should go and get me my actual order, but by then it was about time for filming to start.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything serious.” Except it was because you’d had to go hungry because of someone’s incompetence. There’s a reason Toji is always taking you out. Most actresses have a habit of skimping on meals to look as trim as possible and he’s not about to let you starve because that’s what the media thinks looks best. He likes you just the way you are and, as far as Toji is concerned, his opinion is the only one that should matter. Not even your own as your food arrives and you whine about not being able to finish it all.
“I’ve seen you eat more than that.” It comes out just a hair too harsh and he can see it settle over you as if he meant it as an insult. “It’s just pasta,” he says before you can get too in your head about it. “It looks like more than it is.” You grumble something under your breath, likely something snarky about how he doesn’t have to worry about portion control because you’re always saying how his stomach is a black hole. His physique is a testament to how far the human body can be pushed thanks to his tumultuous upbringing. A chasm of memories that don’t quite fit together, punched with holes like a moth-eaten shirt. Something about trauma and dissociation Shiu had said after a night of drunken oversharing.
It sounded like he was reading off the first link he found in the search results while he was looking up why Toji was such an abrasive asshole all the time. Realistically, Toji knows he has things to work on just like he knows he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort. It is what it is and as far as he’s concerned the future is far more interesting than the brick wall his brain has built between the present and the past. The future has you and there’s not much he can think of that’s better than that. Not when you’re sitting across from him yapping about whatever pops into your head and happily eating the food he knew you’d like.
“I mentioned in an interview once that I really liked this one author, and they’re releasing a new book soon. Apparently they sent me a signed advanced copy! There was a little handwritten note and everything!” It’s cute how you’re famous and still getting excited about another public figure acknowledging your existence. There’s something so genuine and humble in your happiness that seems to be missing from most of the big names he’s worked alongside. Toji isn’t always the easiest to work with considering how short his fuse is but he’s not one to take it out on people. He’s more hard stares and gruff one-liners while he’s seen other actors shout at the staff like they’re children needing to be scolded. So far, the egotistical people he’s worked with have enough sense not to snap at Toji directly. The only person that’s ever mouthed off to him is you, and it’s always within reason. He is a dick sometimes and you’re just so preoccupied with pleasing everyone that you’ll bite at him for being a bit too short with a co-star or snapping at a member of the wardrobe staff for taking too long for his liking. You make everything more pleasant for everyone involved. A little ray of sunshine in Toji’s otherwise dreary life.
He was right about the food. You finish your pasta and two of your cherry drinks before Toji pays the tab, ignoring the waitress’ number written at the bottom of the receipt. He hardly notices the blue scribbles, but you do. It seems to flip a switch in your brain as you stare at it before Toji crumples it and shoves it into his pocket. You’re quiet as you leave the restaurant, going a few paces before you finally find your voice.
“Are you gonna call her?” Your tone isn’t as playful as it usually is when you tease him about all the attention he draws. He’s gotten free drinks at bars and comped meals at restaurants because some waitress or bartender thought he was handsome. Toji has grown used to women giggling behind their hands as he passes and men peeking at him from the corner of their eye like he won’t notice. There’s a certain allure to his surliness that no one but you seems to be immune to. You and maybe Shiu. Usually the most you’ll give him is a laugh and a sarcastic quip about how he’s a public liability for all the attention he commands. Usually a joke about him stopping traffic. But you seem a bit more serious today, a bit more bothered than usual. For a second, Toji considers that he might be hearing things where you didn’t mean them. But then he catches the slight pout of your lips tinged red from your drink and he knows something’s up.
“The waitress,” you say when he takes too long to answer, “she gave you her number, right?” It takes Toji a moment to realize this is the first time anyone has been so forward with their flirtations in front of you. Of course there were always the compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, but it never goes too far considering most people just assume the two of you are together like that. This waitress had taken a chance slipping him her number, but it’s not like Toji wants it. He hands you the rumpled receipt without a second thought. There at the bottom, in that same sparkly blue pen she used to take your order, is her name and number.
“Kanna.” You say, eyes narrowing as you stare at the digits of her phone number. Toji decides to test the waters because there was certainly a hint of disdain in your voice as you read her name. You mumble something about her handwriting being messy and Toji can’t help but laugh.
“Jealous, baby?” Sunlight dances over your lashes as your eyes snap to his face. He watches you try to hide your expression, your pout disappearing as you hand him back the receipt. He shoves it back in his pocket without a second glance because he knows you’d say something about littering if he dropped it on the ground just to prove a point.
“No.” You say it too quickly for it to be true.
“Liar.” Toji laughs because you’re so clearly bothered. Usually someone making a pass at him wouldn’t get you so flustered but there’s something different about you today. You’re more openly affectionate. There’s still those moments of hesitation but you’ve been more free with grabbing his hand as you walk and leaning against him when you’re idle. That girl couldn’t have rattled you. She was hardly anything to look at, less so when Toji is constantly surrounded by a plethora of perfectly curated women that fit rigidly into the popular look of the moment. Trendsetting hairstyles and the latest designer clothes. You’re more subdued, less artificial in your style choices, yet he still finds you leagues more beautiful than anyone he’s ever seen before. Certainly more so than that random waitress and her glitter pen.
Toji has to hold back a smile as you walk ahead of him. Taking three steps for every one of his and still only managing to stay a half step in front of him. He can tell you’re trying to distance yourself, arms crossed and lips pouted as you rush forward. Toji let’s you. It’s not like you’re far ahead and, lucky for him, you’re headed to the same place. The hotel is a few blocks away and Toji takes the time to enjoy the way the sun moves over your hair, golden light settling like a halo around your head. It’s only when you reach the towering silhouette of the hotel that the sun is eclipse and you go dull. Without the shower of gilded light you look more dejected than annoyed. A kicked puppy rather than an angry dog. You make it as far as the elevator before Toji decides he’s had enough of the running. His grip on your arm is as gentle as he can manage while keeping you from slipping away from him. His free hand finds your hip as the floors rush past. Your shuffling lifts your shirt ever so slightly and Toji finds his thumb brushing over the exposed skin above your waistband before he can contemplate the consequences.
Toji touches you all the time. As his on screen love interest, he’s inclined to be physically affectionate when the cameras are rolling. But even off screen he can’t help the way his true desires bleed into his actions. The media eats it up every time a picture of the two of you surfaces, the rumor mills running overtime to concoct a front page story for one tabloid or another. But that’s always been part of the show. The same way you leaned into him when that fan asked for a picture is the way he holds your waist on the red carpet. This is different. There are no cameras. No one to impress or enthrall. This is simply Toji wanting to touch you, and you letting him. The feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt have gotten you to go still, leaning back into his chest as he watches your reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors.
“Let go.” It’s only the two of you in the elevator and yet your voice is no louder than a whisper. Toji scoffs, hands loosening little by little.
“You want me to?”
“No.” Your voice is even smaller than before. The quietest admission like you’re unsure of it yourself. Still, Toji lets go and watches you stumble because you were leaning so heavily against him.
Immediately he can feel the absence of your warmth against his chest, but he’ll let you come back to him. He’s made his intentions clear. From here, the choice is yours. When the doors ding open, you nearly sprint down the hall and Toji assumes you’ve made your choice. He can live with it. He doesn’t blame you for it. The moments you’ve shared together always felt a bit too good to be true, just as perfect as when the cameras are rolling. But you stop in the middle of the hallway. Your room is further down but you don’t move to go any further, as if something has rooted you to that place. Toji sets a leisurely pace in his approach.
There’s the expectation that you’ll go running off again the moment he gets too close like a rabbit evading a wolf, but you surprise him with your stillness. Even as he recaptures your waist, hands more purposefully dipping under your shirt as he pulls you into his chest. This isn’t the place for it. A picture like this would be a PR nightmare and he’d never hear the end of it from Shiu. But Toji can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Instead he asks which room you want to go to. His is closer but he doesn’t doubt you’d be more comfortable in your own. You lead the way, swiping your card to unlock the door before pulling him inside.
After a month of filming, you’ve turned this temporary situation into your own. It smells like you more than any industrial strength cleaner that the housekeepers use. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo and that scented lotion that you love so much. The bed is freshly made and that damn duck that a fan gifted you months ago is propped up against the pillows next to the remote. A bit of tension leaks from your shoulders as you laugh and explain that the housekeepers have been doing this for weeks, setting a cute little scene for you to return to after they’ve straightened up the room. You set the remote and duck on the nightstand as you sit at the edge of the bed, perched as if you don’t want to crease the freshly steamed linens. You look nervous and it stops Toji from wandering further than the little entryway. He’s flanked by a closet and a mirror just like in his room but he can’t take his eyes off you. Your hands are tucked between your thighs and he tries not to focus on the way you’re shifting and squirming, squeezing your legs together.
He can almost see the heat flooding through your body and he’s more than capable of flushing it out if you’ll just ask him to. He feels like a leashed dog waiting for the command to pounce. He reaches up to brace his arms against the dropped ceiling annexing the entryway from the rest of the room. For all your silence, your body is speaking for itself. Toji’s eyes don’t miss the way your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes focused on the way his arms flex above his head.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Toji says even though he really wants to. He knows you’d listen, too. But this isn’t something he can script and direct. You have to decide for yourself, give him the words he’s looking to hear. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby.” He sees the little pet name land, watches how you dip your chin and look up at him through your lashes. Embarrassed and he hasn’t even done anything yet.
“Don’t make me,” you mumble. It’s so starkly different from the sultry confidence he sees on set, a true testament to your skills as you struggle to find the words to say you want him. Because he knows you do. It’s clear in the way you keep stealing glances at him even as you point your face away, hiding like he can’t see the way your teeth nip nervously at your lip.
“I won’t.” He agrees. “Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, so you gotta tell me. What do you want, baby?”
Toji wants to think he’d be able to turn tail and head back to his own room if you denied him, take a cold shower and forget this ever happened, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s already so swept up in your orbit that denial would feel like a punch to the gut. He’s taken worse, but not from you. It would be like sucking the air from his lungs. It’s gotten so bad that he can’t imagine a day without you. Work was only a pretense. He got to see you everyday because you were contractually obligated. Now you’re far past coworkers hanging around each other because it’s what the job demands. He likes to think you see him as a friend, maybe something more. He could live with just being a friend as long as it means he gets to spend time in your bed. He’s got so few people that he talks to on a day to day basis that Toji imagines it wouldn’t really make a difference what you called him as long as you do call him.
Finally, you don’t say his name, or anything really, but you extend a hand towards him and he rushes forward like a tsunami swallowing the shoreline. He kneels and tries not to think of how stupid he must look prostrating himself at your feet. You don’t seem to think any less of him for his poorly concealed eagerness. It's a desire grown over years of working alongside you. A sort of desperation that will knock the breath out of your lungs as soon as you give him the go ahead. Because Toji has had women. Countless, faceless. He’s slept with enough people to know this feels different. He wonders if this is what it's like for desire to feel real. Because why else would he be so hung up on you after so long. He’s not a man after a chase. He won’t run after anyone. Unless it’s you. He’s been running so fucking hard that he’s nearly out of breath and here he is so close to the finish line in a marathon he hadn’t realized he was running. And you’re the prize brushing his hair back and touching the scar at the corner of his mouth like he’s something to be gentle with.
“You scare me.” He hears you say it through waves of blood rushing in his ears. He’s familiar with fear but never from you. From day one you’d been strangely calm around him. Like a deer sitting beside a mountain lion without a care in the world. Toji knows he’s something to be afraid of. He’s lived his life. He knows exactly how dangerous he is, how terrifying he must seem. It was stupid to think you were above that fear just because you smiled at him.
“I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.” You say softly. But you’re still touching him. Humans tame predators, he reminds himself. A wolf can be turned into a dog with the proper treatment. He thinks again of how he’s kneeling at your feet. He’s been tamed–whipped as Shiu called it–by you.
“M’not gonna hurt you.” He tries to work the gravel from his voice, to sound less brooding as he reassures you. It doesn’t work. He’s set in stone. Too old to learn a new trick. If you’ll have him, Toji will be whatever you need, but you gotta take him as he is. Because it’s all he has to give.
“Promise?” Your tone is so soft he half expects you to stick out your pinky or make him cross his heart.
“I promise.”
“I’m serious, Toji. I don’t want to be just another girl to you. If we do this, we’re doing this. You can’t use me and leave me. I won’t let you.” He hears the unspoken words. I won’t let you hurt me. So that’s what you meant. Of course you aren’t afraid of him. You’re scared in the way everyone seemed to be of each other. Scared to commit, scared to be vulnerable. Toji loathes to think he feels the same. Rejection would hurt if it came from you. But it hasn’t. You’re still playing with his hair and Toji hears a damning thought surface in his head; I could marry this girl. He shoves it down before it can fully form. It’s too soon, too optimistic. He knows who he is as much as he tries to be better when he’s with you. Toji could hurt you. Get scared and break your heart. He knows if he did he’d never see you again.
No more stupid videos getting sent to him at 5AM because you’re in the makeup chair at the crack of dawn. No more ordering your food because you can’t ever get the words out yourself. No more shoving you to the inside of the sidewalk because you like balancing along the curb as you walk. He could live without seeing you on set ever again. That had only been a symptom. The root of it was simply you. In any way he could have you.
It’s pathetic but he’s addicted in a way he never thought possible. Never let himself think it was possible. Not for a guy like him. Movies gave him an outlet for his more violent tendencies. He would’ve done just as well as a boxer or something else where he could get paid to rough people up in a way that was above board. He’d done it the illegal way for years. Got away with it too. You have every right to be scared of him. Every right to leave him. But in this moment you’re here and he’s selfish. He leans up to kiss you.
It doesn’t feel new. There’s no picturesque fireworks clouding his head. It isn’t new. He’s kissed you a hundred times over by now. It doesn’t feel new, but it feels right. Especially without the motivation of a camera. He isn’t kissing a character, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him.
“Stop thinking so hard.” Because Toji can tell by the way your hands flutter over his shoulders with nervous uncertainty that you’re not all here. You’re thinking about this like someone is going to snap at you for messing up an angle or pressing too close and smearing your makeup. He hears you mumble a feeble apology.
“None of that. We’re doing this, baby. You and me. Don’t think about anything else.” That gets you to loosen up enough for Toji to work you out of your clothes. He’s never had the pleasure. There’s never been a reason for his hands to be pressing underneath your shirt and it feels like his hands are melting into your skin as they push towards your chest, taking your shirt with them. You’re warm and pliant, softening like butter under his touch. Toji gets you out of your shirt with a bit too much eagerness, ruffling your hair as you squeak at his desperation. He can’t even find it in him to care if he looks overeager now because he is.
He’s been after you for years and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Beneath your clothes is an endless expanse of skin hidden only by the covering of your underwear. Plain cotton, nothing special, but it has him throbbing in his pants because it’s you. And you have the audacity to mumble about “didn’t know we were doing this, would’ve worn something nicer,” like Toji isn’t practically drooling at the way your pretty blue panties sit on your hips. He thumbs at the elastic, pulling it back just to hear it snap against your skin. It’s like unwrapping a gift and he’s looking to savor it.
“They’re gonna know,” he says as he kisses along the shape of your breasts peeking out the top of your bra. He could put a mark there. Bite down on the soft skin and leave a print of his teeth in your skin, put a bruise there with his greedy mouth as he licks at the line where skin meets fabric, hiding the rest of you away in the cups of your bra. He could mark you up and they’d know. Everyone would know exactly who did it because Toji isn’t ashamed to admit he’s been after you like a dog, barking at anyone that got even remotely too close for comfort. A co-star could simply be complimenting the outfit wardrobe had chosen for a particular scene and he’d be looming behind them with murder in his eyes. Of course you look gorgeous but only he should get to look that hard at you.
“Don’t!” You squeak when he noses over your skin, looking for a place to sink his teeth. “Don’t leave any marks!” He almost wants to ignore you and latch his mouth on to you anyway, but Toji resists the urge. You’ve asked him to behave and he wants to be a gentleman for you. Or, at least, the closest a man like him can get to it. He can still tease you about it, though.
“No?” He mocks you. “You don’t want me to leave any marks? What, you got someone else that gets to see you like this, baby?” You squirm at his patronizing tone, a pout working its way onto your lips. He nips at your bottom lip before smoothing the expression with a kiss.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whine. “Makeup and–” He kisses you again, slipping his tongue between your parted lips, because of course he knows. Makeup would make a fuss if he left marks on your neck, wardrobe would pitch a fit if they found hickeys in a place their designated outfits couldn’t cover. You’d be in the makeup chair even longer as they painted over all the places he’d marked you up.
“You taste like cherries.” He mumbles against your mouth. The taste has him fumbling for his pants like a fucking virgin because it’s so innate to you. Those little fruity drinks you love so much have him pressing painfully against his zipper. Toji has you leaned up against the pillows as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs twitch, pressing tighter together at the sight of him looming over you bare-chested. He doesn’t toss his shirt far because he wants to see you wearing it later. Right now you smell like you. Your lotion, your shampoo. He can’t wait to tired you out and wrap you up in his clothes until you smell like him.
He wants to mark you up in other ways if he can’t do it with his lips. So everyone knows exactly who you belong to. The idea that you had to make him swear to not let this be a one off kind of thing is utterly laughable when Toji hasn’t wanted to stray away from you since nearly the first time you met. Nothing anyone else has to offer could be better than what you can give him. Although he’s happy that the little waitress tried. You wouldn’t have been so worked up if she hadn’t. He’s been teetering on the edge of insanity being so close to you everyday and it’s nice that he’s finally caught a glimpse of what you’re like when you get so wrapped up in your mind that you start acting out of character. Because Toji hasn’t felt this crazy over anyone and he’s glad he’s not suffering this lovestruck psychosis alone. It’s dumb and childish but he’s got so little in his life that’s sweet and pure that he isn’t about to poison this with toxic hang ups about maintaining his persona.
“Did it make you mad, baby?” He asks as he bullies his way between your legs. You move with him, thighs parting to give him space even as you shrink back into the pillows, brows pinched as you watch him settle his cheek against your thigh. “Did that girl at the restaurant upset you?” He wants to hear you admit it. He smirks at the way you screw up your face, nose scrunching in distaste at the mention of another woman.
“Don’t say things like that when we’re like this,” you grumble, jerking the leg he’s resting on. He bites at you in retaliation and because he wants to hear you squeak about leaving marks again.
“You are mad.” He smirks and watches the way your cheeks puff indignantly as you pout at him. He wants to kiss that petulant little expression off your face but Toji can’t bring himself to move even an inch away from where he’s resting. With his face cushioned by the pillowy warmth of your thighs he can see the mess spreading between your legs. A dark spot is forming in your panties, getting bigger with every shift of your hips. Toji slips a finger under the elastic and can practically hear the sound of the fabric sticking to your skin. It makes his mind go blank and all he can think about is getting closer. He blinks and suddenly his face is buried at the apex of your thighs, panting like a dog as he noses against the soiled fabric, tongue chasing the taste of you seeping through the cotton.
“Wait!” You squeak, and he tries to. He pulls back but only far enough to look up at you. His nose stays nuzzled against the seam of your cunt, brushing against where your clit is throbbing through the fabric.
“What’s wrong?” He asks even though he can think of a few things as his finger drags through the space between your panties and pussy, making a slick noise that has him grinding against the mattress. So fucking wet.
“Nothing…” Toji recognizes the face you make in an instant. He’s seen it a hundred times over by now. It always reminds him of a puzzle the way you fix your expression whenever a camera is rolling. It’s always your mouth first. Smile dropped, pout gone, lips pressed into a neutral line. He sees every piece of your face fall into place until it’s perfectly blank. He watches you awhile longer until your composure breaks again and your brows dip into something resembling anxiety.
“Nervous, baby?” He doesn’t need you to answer but you do anyway, nodding slowly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just lemme take care of you, okay?” You nod again and Toji rewards the loosening of your muscles with a gentle kiss to your stomach. “Behave.” He says and watches the way you tense up again. It’s less nerves, more anticipation as you watch him slink back between your legs. He decides to spare your underwear, pulling them down nice and proper instead of tearing them off of you like he’s so desperate to do. It takes a few seconds longer and gives you a chance to knock your knees together as he sits up to pull the bundle of fabric off your ankles.
“What did I say?” He asks, loving the way the timbre of his voice seems to send a shiver through your prone body. “Behave.” You don’t resist as he spreads your legs again but you start to squirm the longer he stares. Toji has spent many a night in the privacy of his hotel room fisting his dick to whatever image of you his mind could conjure but nothing could come close to the real thing.
“S’pretty, baby.” He mumbles, tongue tripping over the words. He’s just lost any semblance of cognitive function. All he can see is you, spread out and dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait another second to get his mouth on you.
I’m gonna marry this girl, he can’t help the thought as your lashes flutter and lips part the moment he gets his mouth on your pussy. You’re still nervous, twitching and squirming like you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Toji decides for you, arms hooking under your legs to hold you still. That still leaves your hands to flutter anxiously, skating over where his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and brushing across his hair like you’re afraid to touch him. It makes him groan in annoyance, the sound humming against your clit. It makes you go limp, hands falling still. One rests against his head and the other over his hand. Toji loosens his grip on your leg just enough to thread his fingers through yours, pointedly ignoring how intimate the small touch feels even though he has his tongue buried in your pussy. He’s being greedy, tonguing at your hole and nosing against your clit as your cunt makes a mess of his face, but the moment is softened by the way your fingers squeeze around his.
He feels your nails against his scalp. Not quite gripping, more so petting and it feels like something akin to a reward as he makes a mess between your legs. You don’t tense up again and Toji realizes the idle movement of your hands is grounding you even as your thighs shake around his head. He can barely breathe but he can’t even fathom pulling away when you’re making such pretty noises and trying to grind your hips against his face. You’re slurring something between those soft sighs that sounds an awful lot like “thank you,” and Toji wrenches his mouth away from you because he’s one more head scratch away from cumming in his pants like some virgin. He doesn’t even bother to get his underwear down all the way. He just shoves the waistband low enough to get his dick out and nearly collapses on top of you the second he feels your cunt against his skin.
Toji braces an arm beside your head, leaning close enough to feel your breath ghosting across his skin. He kisses you to get you to close your eyes, but he keeps his half lidded as he watches you squirm as you taste yourself on his tongue. The mess you’ve left on his face transfers to yours as he rubs his face against your cheek like a needy puppy. It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t acting just as clinging. He can feel the needling sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine, lingering just right on the cusp of pain and pleasure. Toji tries to kiss you again but it ends up being more of a heady clashing of teeth and tongue as he presses his parted lips against yours. Still tastes like cherries, he thinks, enjoying the mix between sweet and savory as the taste of your arousal still sticks to his tongue.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans as you press a wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where his scar is. And because you’re so frustratingly sweet you blink up at him, slow and wide like the little doe eyed beauty that you are, and ask, “Like what?”
“Like that,” Toji groans as you raise your brows and tilt your head, lips pulling into another one of your signature pouts. “Fuck, turn over.” He hooks an arm under your back and flips you fast enough to leave you gasping. Your hand flutters to find him again where it’s settled against your heaving stomach. He can feel your pulse flutter as you catch your breath, body shivering with something softer than anxiety. Anticipation weaves its way through your body. Toji can tell in the way you tense and relax at each minute movement he makes. He decides to tease you as he fists the base of his cock, squeezing hard to keep from cumming on the smooth expanse of your back. His hand moves from your stomach to leave you teetering on quivering arms as he trails his finger up your spine. You bend to match his touch, arching as his fingertip traces over the contours of your back. Goosebumps raises where he touches and you shiver, head falling between your shoulders.
Toji takes advantage of the vulnerable position. Your hair is usually down during filming and there’s little reason for that to change in the coming days so he feels little guilt about the way his teeth scrape against the nape of your neck. It makes your arms give out and Toji’s teeth tighten on the soft skin as your new position presses you back against his hips. He hadn’t meant to leave a mark but there’s likely to be one now. He pulls away, lapping apologetically at the faint indent of his teeth before grabbing your hips to keep you flush against him. If you move again he’s going to ruin the sheets instead of you, but you’re still squirming like you want him to embarrass himself by coming too soon. It becomes plainly clear that your intention is to kill him as you toss your hair over your shoulder and look up at him through your lashes, mumbling a soft “are you gonna fuck me now?”
The answer is a resounding yes and Toji can’t bring himself to think of anything else as he guides his dick inside you. This time he does collapse, falling forward before he can catch himself. It pushes him inside in one go and you let out a long whine, grinding against him as Toji rests his forehead against the back of your neck. You’re starting to sweat now with all that wiggling you’ve been doing and he licks along the column of your neck to distract from the way your pussy is choking his dick. He can hear you whining, feel it too with the way his chest is flush against your back. A soft litany of “please,” and “move,” with his name punctuating each little gasp. He can feel you trying to grind against him, held still partially by the weight of his body. He’s got you almost completely pinned and decided to finish the job. You squeak as he presses his knee against yours, spreading your legs until you collapse onto your stomach.
“Stay there,” he says like you have any hope of moving without him peeling his heavy body off of you. He has no intentions of doing anything remotely close to that as he shoves a pillow under your hips and his arm under your jaw.
“Comfy?” He asks. He can feel the way your cheeks are squished in the crook of his arm as you try to nod and go back to begging. He nips at the shell of your ear, soothing the sting with his tongue, as he pulls his hips back. You’re close. He can feel it in the way your pussy is desperate to keep him inside, squeezing tight every time he pulls away. It’s got him on the edge, filling the hotel room with the heavy sound of skin against skin. He’s glad the bed is so sturdy.
There’s no squeaking or knocking headboard as he drives you up the mattress with his desperate rutting. He gets a hand between you and the sheets to pinch at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. It makes you keen and that’s the only thing Toji can’t be bothered to keep quiet. He wants to hear every little sound you make after giving him so much lip about the waitress. You had so much to say earlier and he’s only too happy to hear you out. Neighbors be damned. It’s likely the floor is mostly if not completely vacant given that two celebrities are boarding here but Toji can’t help but want you to be loud in case there’s anyone to hear. This all feels a bit too much like a dream and he’d relish a noise complaint just to make it all seem real.
“You feel so good, baby.” Toji grunts in your ear. “So good for me.” Something like a giggle works its way out of your mouth and Toji almost tells you to shut up because the sound goes straight to his dick. His hand leaves your breasts to find that spot between your legs. Your breathing stutters as his calloused fingers find your clit. It’s like lighting a fuse. You start up your squirming again, nails scratching at his arm tucked under your chin like you’re trying to get away. It takes Toji a second to realize that you are. Curling up on yourself, trying to run from the feeling of his body on yours. You’re not saying anything, but you are drooling. He can feel it slicking down his forearm as he loosens his hold just enough to make sure you’re not suffocating under his strength. He can hear those stuttering little breaths and soft mewls that are soon accompanied by a hand pushing blindy at his wrist.
“Fuck no,” Toji grumbles. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to roll you onto your back. He hears a little sigh of relief as you relax into the sheets for a moment. There are tears sparkling in your eyes and wetting your lashes. Your whole face is shining with sweat and spit and it makes Toji a little prideful to see you so thoroughly ruined because of him.
“You gonna be good for me, baby? Gonna behave?” He asks once you catch your breath. Before you can answer he’s already gathering your wrists in one hand to press them into the pillows above your head while his other hand slaps his dick against your messy cunt. He grinds the head of his cock against your clit, precum staining your skin as he teases you, asking if it feels good. He huffs out a laugh when you nod. It’s so earnest, so desperate.
“Yeah it does. You don’t have to run from it, baby. Lemme make you feel good. Want you to feel good for me.” He pants, leaning down until you’re nose to nose as he presses back inside you. The sound you make is lost in the press of your lips as Toji lavishes you with more sloppy kisses. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, balls tightening with each little whine that leaves your lips. His hand finds its way back between your legs and he has your back arching within seconds. He can feel you trying to pull away again, arms tugging at where he has you pinned even as your greedy legs lock around his waist. He can feel your muscles trembling as he draws tight circles on your clit, whole body pulling taut as you get closer to the edge.
The only words leaving your mouth are his name and soft gasps of “please, please, please,” like Toji is in any position to deny you what you want. He lets go of your wrists if only because he knows you won’t try to run from him now. Instead your arms wrap around him, pulling with enough strength to catch him off guard. Toji nearly collapses on top of you as you pull him into a surprisingly chaste kiss. A shudder runs down his back as your nails drag against his scalp and it’s all just a bit too much. Your pussy milking him like you’re trying to get pregnant–belatedly, he realizes he should’ve worn a condom–and your lips in his ear telling him to let go.
“Wanna feel it. Want it inside,” you whine. It’s so damningly sweet that Toji can’t find it in himself to even attempt to deny you. The thought of pulling out had briefly crossed his mind but your thighs are still locked around his waist and he isn’t above doing something stupid to satisfy himself. The consequences can be dealt with later. He lasted longer than he expected but there’s no mistaking how pent up Toji has been as he cums inside you. He fills you up and then some, feeling it leaking out. The tension bleeds from his body as he curls over you, grip loosening on your wrists enough that you wriggling free to wrap your arms around his shoulders. There’s the prickling heat of your nails scratching at him as you wrap yourself tight around him like you never want him to leave. Toji returns the favor. You shiver, a happy little sigh leaving your lips as he wraps his arms around you.
“Clingy,” he says quietly, still loud enough for you to hear and he feels the way your arms tense then loosen, trying to pull away like you missed the humor in his voice. “Stop it.” He mutters, sitting back up to pull you into his lap.
Usually Toji isn’t one to stick around after he’s gotten what he wants out of an encounter but the usual instinct to peel his partner off of him as soon as possible is absent with you. He revels in the way your head rests against his chest, soft breathes ghosting across his skin. Toji’s hands find your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he lifts you just enough to pull out. There’s a puddle forming on the sheets from the way he’s leaking out of you and he entertains the thought of plugging his fingers inside you for half a second before remembering how stupid that would be after he already came inside you with no protection. You don’t seem too worried about it and Toji supposes that’s all that matters. He watches the way the mood settles into something less frenzied, more coherent, but the anger never comes. He’s expecting you to snap at him for being so careless but all he gets is a soft smile and even softer kisses. The taste of cherries still lingers.
“We should do something about that,” he says, eyes still trained on the space between your bodies. Stained white and sticky from how hard he was fucking you. It streaks up your thighs and shines bright on his pelvis, staining the freshly changed sheets. You blink slow, like a kitten, before finally acknowledging the mess between your legs.
“Should be fine, I’m on the pill. I’ll stop by the store later if you’re worried.” He’s not. Part of him wishes you hadn’t mentioned birth control. He’s selfish when it comes to you and even though it would be the worst outcome, Toji finds himself wondering what it would’ve been like if he did get you pregnant. Then he remembers your careers and lets the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. It’s a desire for a later date because you’ve already said this isn’t gonna be a one and done kind of thing. There’s time for things to get more serious, to have a proper discussion instead of letting it happen on a whim. He clings to the idea of a future with you because that’s really all he has. As soon as he set eyes on you, you began to infiltrate his every thought like a weed invading his mind. But you’re not a weed, far too pretty for that. And even if you were, he likes the way you cloud his mind. Gives him something sweet to think about when there’s always been such a lack of nice things in his life. He kisses your neck, tasting sweat and perfume. After a while he gathers you up and makes you decent enough to make the trip to his room.
“I owe Shiu money.” He groans halfway through his shower. You’re sitting just outside the tiny cubicle, perched on the toilet. Freshly washed and wearing his shirt just like he wanted.
“You made a bet about me with your manager?” He hears the uncertainty in your voice even over the spray of water and realizes how the admission must sound. He shuts off the water and steps out into a cloud of steam to see you looking crestfallen. There’s a hesitance on your face that makes his stomach churn. Anxiety isn’t something Toji is entirely familiar with and he finds that he hates the way the acidic feeling settles in his chest.
“Not like that, baby. He just knows how much I’ve been wanting you. He called me on my bullshit years ago.” It would be embarrassing admitting that he’s been pining after you for so long if you didn’t smile and try to hide your face. He hears you mumble, “Thought it was just me,” as you tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to cover your smile. There’s a tremble or hesitance in your voice like you can’t believe Toji would pay you the time of day, like he wasn’t just chomping at the bit to get you in bed. It’s a fair assumption given his usually detached disposition that so few people take the time to see past. You’re one of them but he can appreciate the air of unknowns that lingers around him. Toji is just like he seems on camera.
Rude, abrasive, volatile when provoked. He acts something like a grizzled guard dog but even they have people they’re gentle for. It’s almost sickening how easily he can see himself with you. Made worse by how easily you accept him. You’re giving him that look again, like he’s your favorite person in the world.
“What’s that look?” He asks as you watch him get dressed. He brought you to his room so you can nap on an unsoiled bed. He wonders if the housekeepers will tuck your duck in again after washing his cum out of your sheets.
“What look?” You have the nerve to ask like you’re not looking at him with more softness than he’s seen in his entire life. He decides not to mention it. The need for discretion that Shiu has been trying to drill into him will be lost in the wind soon enough. Toji already couldn’t take his eyes off you and now he has more reason to be with you all the time. Media be damned, he’s gonna be all over you now that you’re his, officially. And you seem to share the sentiment as you curl up on top of him as soon as he gets in bed, humming happily when his arms find your waist. He hears a sleepy murmuring of “I’m your girlfriend,” soft and giggly like you couldn’t be more happy about it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin for Toji. He’s always thought of you as his girl and now it’s finally real. No cameras, no audience. Unscripted and real.
184 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prompt requests:
1) Price x Reader - abandoned farm / waking up in a random room with no idea who/where/why/how you got there
2) Soap x Reader - forest / dealing with strange natural (or not-so-natural) phenomena
3) Ghost x Reader - the only other car in the abandoned parking lot / being followed
1k game here
i went ahead and just did one of these! i've got several requests in my inbox still, but i might come back and add another one you had later :)
1.7k of your ex-boyfriend ghost catching up with you. no smut!
The car's been tailing you since you left work.
It's a discreet car, and you probably wouldn't have even noticed it if you hadn't run several errands before starting to head home. The driver isn't even trying to be subtle - he never parks more than a spot away from you and he never lets another car get between you and him on the road.
You already know who he is. You hate to admit it to yourself, but you know.
Ghost always was possessive. It's not a leap to think he'd be pissed at the idea of anyone getting close to even your car.
Plus, he probably wants you to know he's following you. He always was a sadistic bastard, always liked the see the pain he was causing.
There's no one you can call for help. You didn't rat him out the first time you ran, and you're not going to now. There's no way you could get the police to keep you safe without telling them all about Ghost and his secrets, and you'd be better of just surrendering to Ghost's wrath at that point.
You take a deep breath and tighten your hands around the wheel.
You can't get help.
You can't run - he's tailing you too closely for that.
You can't fight - you don't keep your gun in your car, and you've never been a match for Simon hand-to-hand.
You pull into a dark parking lot, one that's almost entirely empty save for a few people waiting at the bus stop. You take a few deep breaths as you pull to a stop as far away from the bus stop as you can, trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable confrontation.
The car parks a spot away. Just seconds later, he's climbing out of the driver's side and striding towards you.
You knew it was him. He'd never send a henchman after you, even all these months later with so much distance between the two of you.
He's clothed entirely in black - like he always is on the job, apparently black hides bloodstains best - and comes to a stop right in front of your window, so your just staring into a wall of darkness.
You roll the window down, the awkward silence heavy.
The first thing you notice when he ducks down is that he's wearing the mask. Not the one sewn onto a balaclava, but one with the skull pattern printed onto the balaclava itself.
"Get out," he grunts. His first words to you in nearly a year and they're a command.
You scowl. This is exactly why you ran in the first place.
"No." You try to infuse as much confidence into your voice as possible, but you know you fail.
He huffs. "Love, c'mon, I'm not playing games. Get out of the car."
You shake your head, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white.
"No! I don't have to listen to you - especially when you've been stalking me all day-"
He sighs loudly, and before you can complain he's reaching through the window and opening the door for himself, quickly ducking into your car.
"Hey, stop!" You try, batting away his hands when he unbuckles your seatbelt, pulling you up by the waist until your standing unsteadily against him. "You have no right-!"
"Baby. Shut up." He growls, reaching around you to tug the key out of the ignition, the hand around your waist affording you no wiggle room.
"Don't you tell me to shut up!" You complain, pushing against his chest as he starts to nudge you in front of him. "I haven't had to deal with you in nearly a year and the first things you think to say to me are an order and shut up? Fuck you, asshole!"
There's a low chuckle at your back, and he turns you around to pin you to the car. Your breath hitches as he presses your chests together, ducking low enough that you can't look anywhere but his eyes.
"I missed you," he says, low and secretive.
God, you wish you could hate him. Everything would be so much easier if you hated him.
"Let me go," you say, forcing sternness into your voice.
"No."
"I'm serious," you try, pushing at the center of his chest. He only uses the pressure as an excuse to lean closer, draping himself over you.
"I'm serious too, love. You're never leaving my line of sight again."
You shut your eyes against the wave of longing that brings. He used to talk like that all the time, back before you realized how deep he was in his life of crime.
Gonna keep you forever, love.
Might chain you to the bed. Keep you safe at home, make sure I always know where you are. Little fuckdoll waiting at home for me, hm?
Never letting you leave me. Never.
I can't stand to be apart from you, love. It feels like I'm missing a limb.
You can't leave - you know that, don't you? I'll hunt you down, baby. This isn't a relationship you can get away from.
Simon was always a little possessive, a little controlling. Sometimes it got you off, and sometimes it scared you. In the weeks leading up to your escape, it did a lot more of the latter.
"We're broken up," you say on an exhale, looking back up at him. He's tugged the mask up to his nose, and his warm breath ghosts over your face. "I left you. We're not together anymore, Ghost."
He nearly flinches at that name, stiffening against you. "Don't call me that."
You don't correct yourself, and one of his hands comes up to collar your throat.
"I'm not joking. You don't call me that, understood?"
He applies just the slightest bit of pressure on either side of your neck and you fold like wet cardboard. Nodding quickly and taking a big deep breath in when he stop squeezing.
"What do you call me?" He bites, leaning closer until you're almost brushing noses. You try to flinch back but can't make it very far. "Say it. What do you call me?"
"Simon," you blurt out, nearly a plea. You haven't been near his intensity in so long, it's hard to handle now. You drop your eyes shamefully, unable to look at him.
"Good girl," he purrs, hand moving upwards to cup your chin and tilt it up. You can't help but meet his eyes, and the softness there nearly breaks your heart. "I'm never Ghost for you, only Simon. You got that?"
"You hunted me down like a dog."
He smiles at that, leans close enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I got you back. You're the one who ran away, love. It's a scary world out there, I can't leave you all alone."
"I don't need you to help me."
"You will. You'll need me again. Everything will go back to just how it was, and you'll see how good it is again. I'll take care of you."
That makes your heart beat a little faster, makes your breath quicken.
The first few months with Simon were... well, not heavenly but certainly good. Things were at their best when you first moved in - when he was still eager to dodge work for you, and when you didn't realize how violent "work" really was. Things only started getting bad when you started putting the pieces together.
"You can't protect me from your world, Simon," you whisper, tilting your head towards him just enough to bump your foreheads together. That's the whole reason you had run in the first place - nearly getting kidnapped and having a gun held to your head had been more than enough to scare you out of his world.
"I can," he growls, pressing closer to you. "You just have to let me. You didn't know before, but now you do. Now I can make sure you know how to keep yourself safe when I'm not there."
"But I shouldn't have to!" You exclaim, tears welling in your eyes. Why can't he just understand? "I don't want to always be looking over my shoulder, always waiting for someone to hurt me, or to hurt you-"
"That's not going to happen."
"You don't know that!" You explode, shoving at his chest as he tears slip past your waterline.
"I do," he snarls, the first hints of anger painting his words. "I can keep my woman safe. I can keep what's mine safe."
You sniffle as you look up at him, bottom lip quivering.
You're not even sure what to say at this point. What else is there?
He seems to realize you've run out of words and deflates against you, curling both of his arms around your waist and holding you as close as he can while resting his chin on top of your head.
"It'll be okay, love," he comforts, swaying side to side. "I get why you ran, alright? I know you were scared, and that's my fault. It won't happen again. But it's time to stop running and to come home. You know that's where you're meant to be."
You sniffle against him, blinking into the dark fabric of his shirt.
"You scare me," you confess quietly, safe without his eyes boring into yours.
He only stiffens for a moment, then goes soft against you again. "I know."
One hand moves up to pet over your hair, stroking across your head in the exact way that always makes you feel a little loose limbed. It works now, and you give him a bit more of your weight.
"You're scared because you're smart. I'd be worried if you weren't scared. I shoulda known before that I couldn't keep my job from you, and that's on me. If I had told you, you might not have run."
"I would have."
He snorts, tugs a lock of your hair. "Shush. I promise, things will be different this time. Better. All cards on the table."
Your hands tentatively wrap around him, linking at the small of his back. You've always loved how big he is compared to you, how protected you feel in his shadow.
Even now, knowing what you know, you still feel that way.
It's that thought that has you finally breaking down, leaning into his hold and squeezing him tight to you.
"Oh, love," he sighs, squeezing you as tightly as he can without hurting you. "It's alright, you're okay. Just get it all out. Everything's going to be alright."
As much as you hate it, you think he might be right.
#1k celebration#bo writes#ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost riley x reader#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic
416 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! I was wondering if you could maybe do a Gwen x female (or gender neutral) reader’s first kiss? They’re not officially dating but they both have rather clear feelings for each other. Gwen maybe saves reader from a petty street crime and they share the iconic Spiderman kiss. The reader doesn’t blatantly know that Gwen is Spiderwoman, but they have a gut feeling, as Gwen also has a gut feeling they may already know.
˚‧⁺.-"Kiss me again - he says, drunk and foolish - Kiss me until I am sick of it"
↳ summary: basically, spiderman iconic kiss with Gwen
↳ characters: Gwen Stacy
↳ Gn! Reader
↳ notes: I would with fem reader, but nothing in that work would make that fact explicit, so I titled it gn (which can also be seen as fem), hope you don't mind.
Gwen's heart fluttered when she saw you being mugged. No way was she going to let you get hurt. You were too important to her.
You were paralyzed. Being mugged in a desert street in the big city was not something you used to do, of course you would be scared. The gun was pointed at your face while the thug stared at you with a scary look while another man, presumably his henchman, looked you up and down with a smirk you thought could swallow you whole. And a third man watching the surroundings, ready to warn the others at any sign of the police. The man who had the gun pointed at you looked like some kind of bodyguard for some rich rapper who performs in bars every Friday: gold teeth, tattoos, piercings and such.
Gwen was having a snack until she saw you being mugged in a nearby deserted street. She didn't let herself think long before quickly stepping in and jumping next to the bandits. When she realized that she didn't even bother to put the mask on before jumping in front of you, it was too late to go back and get it, she would have to do it quickly so that no one saw her face.
She was grateful for the darkness of the street when got into a quick melee and threw the thugs away in a dumpster in front of a building, knocking them unconscious. Before you could even process it properly and go after her to thank her, she'd ducked into a nearby alley as quickly as she'd appeared to save you.
You wasted no time in following her, but were disappointed when you couldn't find her. A little frustrated, you turned to resume your walk home, to find the spiderwoman hanging upside down in front of you.
She cleared her throat before speaking in an unnaturally deep voice. "Are you all right, dear citizen?"
You jumped a little in surprise when you saw her before speaking. You really didn't expect her to come back to check on you after saving you. After recovering from the surprise, you started talking. "Uh...-? Of course, I'm fine thanks to you. We've been seeing each other a lot these past few days, you made a point of helping me just across the street this weekend. Do I have a superhero stalker?"
Unknown to you, Gwen smiled beneath her mask and replied in a confident tone. "I was in the neighborhood."
You smiled and took a moment to sigh and admire the figure hanging in front of you. "You're amazing."
"Some people don't think so." She just shook her head and spoke, again using her unnatural low voice.
You didn't say anything, just held your hands out until they hovered over the top of the mask around her neck. "...What?" She asked with a tone of doubt, but without making the slightest effort to stop you.
You withdrew your hands a little, until it took you a while to resume your action. You slowly extended your hands until they hovered over the top of her mask around her neck again upon seeing the, as yet unknown to you, blonde's non-existent attempts to stop you. Still slowly, you pulled your mask up to her nose, to see a strangely familiar gap between the teeth in the superheroine's half opened mouth, and rested your hands on her cheeks.
Without much delay, you kissed her.
She felt herself magically melting into your kiss. Her heart was beating too fast, and her cheeks were burning. At this point, she was thanking whatever god there was that part of her cheeks was still covered, so you wouldn't see the blushing mess you made of her. If the kiss wasn't enough, she was now all too aware of your soft hands resting on her cheeks. She found herself having to resist the urge to relax against your touch right there. She felt in heaven, kissing her crush did wonders for her. The looks exchanged, and the laughter shared during the common lessons at school seemed a distant delusion in her mind now. All that mattered was that she was kissing her crush at this very moment.
The poor girl wanted this moment to last forever, but the need to breathe soon came and you had to part ways. As soon as you pulled away, she saw your breathless appearance and flushed cheeks, and smiled when you adjusted her mask correctly.
"So, my favorite citizen, wants me to walk you home?"
#across the spiderverse#into the spiderverse#spiderverse x reader#gwen stacy#atsv#atsv x y/n#atsv x you#gwen spiderverse#gwen stacy x reader#spider gwen#gwen x reader#atsv gwen#ghost spider#atsv miguel#atsv miles#atsv pavitr#atsv hobie#atsv headcanons#atsv peter b parker
495 notes
·
View notes
Note
yes please dear god smile reader is baby
[Very baby. Here's how Yan Scientist and their slime formally met]
"Subject 43? Payment for yesterday's efforts."
"An apple....but you said I could go home."
Feeding day - as if their headache couldn't get any worse. Like common livestock, their possessions squealed and whined about the most senseless things. Pleading for testing to cease; begging to be returned to their families when it was their love ones who sold them to begin with. The scientist would sooner snip out their tongues if it meant a moment of peace, but they were not a tyrant - plus verbal records of their subjects experiences was easier to stomach at night than written. The audio logs had lulled them to sleep better than any pill or liquid could.
"I said it was a possibility - if you did what I asked properly. You may have killed your cellmate, but you did not bring me their eyes. A shame really. I took the time out of my day to prepare your meal by hand. Ah - well, there's someone who will appreciate my efforts more. Tell me, tuna or ham?"
A wet gurgle sounds from the scientist's pocket."
"Both? You greedy devil. I suppose you do deserve something special for putting up with the same pains that I do."
The scientist picks up two sandwiches and smushes them together as the mass in their pocket becomes denser; gooey tendrils slithering up the length of their coat and crawling onto their shoulder as they lift their hand. The blob sucks up the sandwiches into its gelatinous body, wiggling with delight as they're broken down and absorbed into its structure. The scientist pats the gel with one finger causing it to vibrate more violently resulting in a breathy laugh from its owner.
"Alright, we have more subjects to feed. Come on, You - you too."
The scientist snaps their fingers at the Henchman wheeling the cart who closes the cell door as they both exit. The slime creeps down their shirt and through their sleeve as they walk, resting in the scientist's palm. A marvel their little companion was. They wished they had the honor of creating it, but it's origins were a mystery even to them. The scientist found the creature munching away on the undissolved bones of a past test subject. From numerous experiments, the scientist discovered their new lab partner could not only breakdown organic compounds, but most non living object too and had a choice on what it consumed. It made for the perfect little helper to get rid of all the dead bodies and those who oppose them. The best part about the slime was that it had no mouth and therefore the most tolerable member of the team.
The scientist's smile melts as they enter the next cell. The stress that had fled them by the usage of their slime as a stress toy skyrocketed seeing the act of utter betrayal pointed at them. A lackey, standing over a motionless subject - gun raised at their employer. The scientist sighs.
"Please remove your mask."
The Henchman does as told. Figures - there was only one other person the scientist trusted with the codes. They supposed trying to make this a family business was a poor decision.
"Emery - this has got to stop."
A chuckle. "Does it really?"
"You won, just let him go. I know you didn't have the best upbringing, but he still your -"
Emery grits their teeth, squirming the slime so hard it slithers out of their grip. "You don't know shit. If it makes you feel any better, I haven't actually done anything to him - yet. Just locked him down here, with all the others nobody would care to miss. There is no persuading me on this. If you have nothing else to say - do it."
Their Henchman reaches for his gun, Emery rests their hand over his. Through clouded view and reasoning, the figure steadies their gun. They look away, unable to look as they pull the trigger on the once innocent child they knew. Emery doesn't flinch as it fires - a teal web covering the entirety of their chest and dissolving the bullet as soon as it hits. Their attacker looks on in horror, but before they can do anything Emery takes their henchman's gun as their own and fires back, bullet piercing their heart. Emery's head falls, expressionless eyes gazing out at the person left alive - mouthing two words.
"Your fault."
Emery exhales, placing a hand over their chest and gathering the slime into one ball. "One thing after another. Now I have to fire a new head. Eat your meal and return to me when you're done."
They lower the slime to the ground who plops out on the smooth surface - spitting an apple out that rolls at the scientist feet. They pick it up as they walk off, wiping away tears.
-
A picture frame shatters.
"Why would you choose him and not me. Why!?"
The picture holds a smiling, bucktooth child in the arms of their butler as they show off their award for the camera and all to see. The person who taught them everything, the only one there when they had no one. Emery throws an empty bottle at the image, sinking down at the foot of their bed - cradling their arms to their chest.
"why....."
The sound of wet suction weaves into their cries as the slime wrigglies itself beneath the crack in their bedroom door. It inches towards them, shaking violently before spitting up as locket on the floor. Emery goes to grab it, but as they do the smile shoots up their arm and spreads out, and puffs up over their shoulder like a makeshift pillow. Emery cards their fingers their hair, climbing to their feet and pocketing the trinket.
"I guess I do need some rest. Thank you, You. You seem to be the only one I can't trust."
More gurgles.
"I guess I should give you an actual name eventually." They sight - broken body collapsible on their bed and crawling under their blankets with the help of their aid. The slime hops up on their pillow as they raise their head - solidifying as they rest. "Goodnight, You."
That night - Emery had the worse night's rest they ever had in their twenty-seven years of living.
"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray~"
Is someone ... singing?
"You'll never know, dear. How much I love you-"
The voice sounds so familiar....no... There's more than one. It's hard to remember something so sweet - when all those voices ever did was beg you to stop.
"Please don't take - my sunshine away."
Emery shoots up like a lightning bolt. Their hands search the bed for their glasses which had fallen - finding a squishy, but very real feeling hand beneath their grasp. Emery locates their glasses as the body's see through eyelids peel back.
"Goodnight, You!"
Emery screams - rolling out of the bed in a tanglement of their blankets and obscenities. The interior in the bed sits up, puzzled; bubbles floating through their translucent body as their anxiety peaks.
"Emery.....this you?" The figure points, noting the odd number of fingers on its hand as it looks at theirs. "Mmm wrong...."
Emery's eyes widen as the slime's sixth finger merges into the fifth. "Y-you?...."
The slime chirps. "Emery!"
Emery looks strength in their knees. "What? How?..."
"Ahhh.... You - eat meal... gr...ow better at shape. Too much at one time - hard to understand. Able to single out things Emery say - Emery is... the only one I can trust."
Emery clutches their head. "Ngh..."
"Help?" The slime lunges foward, reverting to its natural state as it crashes into the floor and forming back into its humanoid shell as it catches them before they stumble. It was hard to notice with half of them hanging off the bed, but the slime was massive - size their size if they had to estimate. They bury their face into their hands. "This can't be happy.
The smlie's droppy smile falters. "Wrong? Wanted to make you happy. I..will go back if it makes you happy. Sad Emery...makes me sad too."
Emery looks up at the slime. They raise out their hand, stroking the slime's cold cheek. It hums with a full body shutter - leaning into their palm until their fingers poke through the membrane. Emery retracts their hand, sliding it into their now empty pocket.
"It's fine. I guess we really need to pick a name for you now."
"Mm I pick?"
"Do you have something in mind?"
"Y/n!"
"Where'd you pick up that one?"
The slime points to their head. "Memories. I... like it the most out of them."
"I see... Y/n, it's cute. Alright, Y/n - let's go get some breakfast."
The slime spits a small bag from its stomach contents onto its hand, giving the trail mix too them. That's much more alarming when it's coming out a real mouth and tongue.
"Breakfast!"
Emery takes it with two fingers, holding the dripping bag away from their face. "Thank you, Y/n......at least I have you by my side."
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere scenarios#yandere blurb#yandere oc#yandere scenario#yandere drabble#monster reader#Slime reader
700 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi. So I’m not a Layton guy and all THAT familiar with the lore, but a close friend of mine is, and as far as I understand Layton has a dead girlfriend? Can I please know who Magolor’s dead girlfriend equivalent in this AU is? I’m legitimately so curious. /pos
I have been thinking A LOT about which Kirby character would fit Claire's (dead gf) role. In the end I chose Taranza bc I feel he and Claire are the most similar in character. They're both really good at what they do (Claire: brilliant scientist - Taranza: immaculate mage), quick thinkers, humble, and have a lot of love to give.
I'll explain more under the cut (along with images of Claire and younger Layton for design ref), but Taranza could've also fit in as a couple other characters bc I made Sectonia as Descole. In this essay I will-
In Kirby there's an interesting connection between Magolor and Taranza. Primarily based on that one Magolor portrait in that haunted house in Triple Deluxe (like ok huh????) and also that one Star Allies Wave 3 illustration.
With that portrait existing, to me it implies that Magolor has met Taranza and Sectonia before the events of the game somehow. This theory is further backed up with the Old Friend mask in Merry Magoland. Magolor would HAVE to have known what Joronia looked like before her transformation, and that means he would also have met Taranza too at that time. I could be completely wrong about this HAHA but those are my thoughts on that.
When Wave 3 was announced, I didn't think much on the connection of the 3 characters other than they were from the first three core games of modern Kirby. But then they posted this art piece.
It's so cute how Magolor and Taranza combined their magic to create a shield for Kirby!! Both of their respective magic circle designs are melded together perfectly. Did they practice together on their own to perform this or was that a lucky in-the-moment occurrence? Either way, they must know and understand each other's magic abilities to a decent extent. Like how both Claire and Layton understands each other's careers and goals. Layton is a professor in archeology. Claire is a scientist researching time travel and other stuffs. Those fields go hand in hand, and the two do what they can to support and improve each other's passions.
Now onto the other characters that Taranza would've fit as and reasons why I ended up putting him as Claire.
So I put Sectonia as Descole. Descole has an extremely loyal partner/butler/henchman named Raymond. Yea Taranza would easily fit as him, but a few things made me decide not to. Descole may appear cold and not show it, but even in his madness he cares for Raymond. He does order Raymond around, but he still gives Raymond freewill to do as he pleases. Sectonia is very controlling over Taranza. If Raymond were to make mistakes, I don't see Descole punishing him for them. Sectonia would. She blasted Taranza away for mistaking Dedede as the hero of the lower world. Maybe when she was Joronia she wouldn't and wasn't as controlling but....I feel we don't have the full story on their relationship. I also focused more on Sectonia's overall in-game personality. I absolutely love seeing the two spiders enjoying each other's company and having fun, but in-game we never really got what Joronia really thought of Taranza. As Sectonia, she saw him as a disposable servant. You can say her personality was corrupted by the mirror, but I personally believe the mirror actually amplified her negative feelings and views. Negative emotions are brought up a lot in Kirby lore. I personally find that more interesting than just the mirror possessing her or something. I may be very wrong on that, but those are what I thought about.
Last reason, which is uhm, Raymond saves Descole from death FGDHSJ I don't think I need to elaborate on that. It would be so neat and ironic to have Taranza as Raymond, but I also wanna keep things in line as possible with Kirby lore canon.
Yet, who could be Raymond then? Idk fgdsj that's why I struggled so much. If Claire wasn't an option, Taranza would've been Raymond.
Now the one other character Taranza could've fit as is Descole's late wife. His wife was never mentioned by name, to my memory, and didn't have a huge role in the games. There's not enough information on who she was. I wanted to give Taranza a fitting role in personality and importance.
So in the end after all that thinking, Claire it is! I also don't know who else in the Kirby cast would fit her better and be Professor Magolor's late partner. One may think Susie would fit Claire more, but I've already decided she will be Emmy. Emmy's and Susie's personalities are very similar to me. And Emmy's lore? Fits quite well with Susie's. I'll draw that at some point.
So uh yea. Thanks for reading all that if you did! Hope you enjoyed the insanity
#feel free to disagree!#I thought about this for the past few days I am unwell#i spent a good few hours writing this#there are many other important things i could've put my time into but this is very important to me#one last thing...#I've also decided who'll be Don Paolo#mark HAHA#it sounds so dumb knowing the story but also fitting in character???#that may change but I can't stop thinking about Don Marx......#asks#anon ask#kirby#magolor#taranza#sectonia#PLxKirby#professor layton#hershel layton#claire foley#jean descole#nintendo#hal laboratory#fanart#clip studio paint#magoranza/taranzolor get yo food#i don't ship characters but this is a cute ship and I see the appeal#i feel there's more to say about Magolor's and Taranza's connection#and how it parallels Claire's and Layton's story#but I can't figure out how to word it and it's mostly hc based#am tired idk how to write
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cold as Diamonds
Fanfic for my friend, idk what she sees in him 🙄
Montague (fortnite) x reader
Warning: slight smut
This was the task. Make it to Grand Glaciers and steal Montague's diamond necklace. Which sounded easier in Jonseys head.
For you how ever it would prove to be an unsuccessful mission. With an interesting out come.
You made it over the snow. Grimacing at Jonseys idea of an entrance. You weren’t a well known member of the under ground. You mainly did your work behind a mask. Covering your face. Now you were out without it.
The goal was to ask for help. Montague was hostile you knew that. This was a risk. Get caught and you could end up like Peely.. or worse.
So you made your way down the snowy landscape to the door. A few henchman swatted around. Around you questions. You gave them your best act. Crying and stating you needed somewhere to stay. After all the rich people on the map needed to protect the people. Or else they slip and lose power.
They reluctantly agreed and let you inside. The mansion was nice. A large stair case in the center of the first room. Leading up both ways to the second floor.
“Montague will see you soon.” One of the henchman said watching you as you took a seat on one of the many couches. Just looking around at the books on the many shelves around you.
You mentally took note of any escape routes. Or any ways to get back inside if this went well.
It had been a few minutes. Mind you perhaps an hour. Foot steps came behind you. A throat cleared and a French accent hit your ears.
“Hello.” A simple greeting was given. You turned around. Your eyes took in the man before you. Maybe you’d seen his profile on Hopes computer. Maybe you’d see his file I.D photo but damn.. he looked better in person.
The scar on his eye made him look even more intimidating. The large diamond necklace that laid on his neck was what you came here for.
“Hello.” You stood up quickly giving a weak smile. Playing into the act.
“You need a place to stay I hear? Or help. You have come to the right place.” He smiles but it didn’t seem friendly. It seemed sinister. Like he knew something. But what?
“Yes.. please I need a place to stay.” You agreed eagerly and smiled hopefully. He nodded and snapped his fingers. One of the henchman walking over. “I want you to set up the room beside mine for her. Make it cozy.” He ordered giving the guy some kind of look. He nodded in understanding and hurried off up the stairs.
“Come on. Let’s go get you some dinner.” He cooed in your ear. Was he flirting? Or trying to come off as polite.. the best way you’d assume these rich ass holes could.
You followed him down to the dinning room. It was as you suspected. Grand a large. With a huge table. Despite that he sat beside you at one of the side chairs. Offering you any food you’d like.
A cook would come out and server you both. Laying down the dishes. He thanked them and shooed them off. You noticed he wasn’t carrying his gun you’d always see him with in photos. Interesting. Maybe he had his guard down.
“So, where do you come from?” His voice was low and his accent was giving off a sort of.. vibe. His eyes would land on you as you ate. “Pleasant Plaza.. I had no clue how I got over here. First thing I remember was being in a car and then landing in the snow.” Your story wasn’t a lie. Jonsey set it up like that. Making sure any of the cameras here saw a car and you getting thrown out just a little ways off.
“How terrible.” His hand laid on your thigh with a sympathetic look on his face. Was his accent always this seductive? “I’ll take care of you.” He smiled and leaned closer. The diamond around his neck glistening in the light. His eyes looking deep in mine.
“I’ll give you a gift.” He smiled and got up. He walked out somewhere and came back. Holding a rock. He sat down and smiled. “See this?” He looked at the rock then you. A smirk on his face “yeah..?” You answered confused. He covered the rock with his hand and squeezed. Opening his palm, showing a diamond sitting there now. No rock in sight.
“For you, mon amour.” He bit his bottom lip. He was definitely being seductive. Your heart skipped a beat slightly. Your face flushed. What was happening? He was the enemy.. but he was really attractive.
“Come come, I’ll show you your room.” He slid the diamond into your hand. Giving a quick smile before heading down the hall. You followed quickly not wanting to get lost inside the mansion. It be embarrassing telling Jonsey you couldn’t succeed in the mission because you had gotten lost.
He opened a room door and inside made you gasp. You had never seen such a decorated and suffocated room. You turned to look at Montague who had already made his way over to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, the sheets aren’t the.. most girly.” He chuckled to him self, they were a deep navy blue.
“It doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged and sat down on the edge. This mission could last 1-2 days. If you aren’t back by 3 Jonsey was sure to send in people.
You almost felt bad. You had to take all these people down. It was what was best but.. it be such a waste of a handsome face. He sat down beside you. Letting himself relax a little. “You can stay as long as you like.” His voice was low again. The privacy of the room made your heart beat faster. He was definitely a charmer that was for sure.
“Thank you.” Your voice was soft and lowered to the same tone as his. He leaned in closer. His eyes having this alluring affect on you. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone as beautiful as you in a long time.. I don’t go out much. With all the threats I get.” He slid his hand ontop of yours. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you think I’m handsome, ma chérie?” His lips were so close to yours.
You hesitated. Do you just go for it? Perhaps it’ll confuse him. Enough for you to succeed in the mission.
You leaned in and let his lips touch yours. His being cold yet smooth. Your lips were warm and chapped. Contrasting his. He groaned and pulled you closer. You let out a slight moan letting him push you down on the bed. He pulled away and smirked down at you.
You put your hand on his cheek and smiled. His face flushed and he kisses you again. You closed your eyes and let it happen. He grew tired of his coat restraining his arms. Sliding it off and letting it fall to the floor.
His gloved hands gripped your hips. He smirked as you unbuttoned his vest. Taking it off and leaving him in his black dress shirt and pants.
His diamond necklace still hung at his neck. He loomed over you a playful smile on his face. “Didn’t suspect this.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Nor did I.” You answered honestly.
Part of you knew this would help the mission. Another part of you just wanted to keep going out of selfishness. Montague is very.. attractive. It’s not like this wasn’t what you wanted.
Especially how he kissed you and went down to your neck. He didn’t even know your name but his sweet words like darling, love, and sunshine we’re enough for you.
Things escalated and you laid between his legs on the bed. He smirked down at you as you slid onto his lap. Grinding slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Letting him self enjoy this.
A plan popped up in your head. As you grinned into him you leaned closer. He fell into a hazy feeling. Not having full thought.
As soon as he was too far into bliss you leaned even closer. Using one hand to you grabbed his necklace. You had already found an escape route in the room: get the necklace and jump out the window. There wasn’t that far of a drop. You’d make it out and head to the rail road. Hope had secret passages around.
Once your hand went to his necklace his eyes flung open. He grabbed your hand. A smirk on his face. Your eyes widened and your thoughts froze.
“I knew you were up to something.” his voice seethed. You glared at him your demeanor changing quickly. You squeezed his dick he groaned in pain and you ripped off his necklace. You got off the bed and ran to the window.
Montague struggled to get off the bed. Half embarrassed he’d get caught like this. He should’ve known you were one of those under ground agents. He couldn’t lie you did attract him. Even now you still did. But he wouldn’t let you tell the tale of how embarrassing you got his necklace.
His cold hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around before you could leave. You gripped the necklace.
You struggled against him before he slammed you against the wall. His hand gripping your throat.
“You little bitch. I knew you were up to something.” He shoved you against the wall harder. Your eyes widened. His were icy cold. His brows furrowed and hands soaking the breath out of you. His gloved hands didn’t make it easier for you to get out of his grip.
“Let me go!” You struggled. Dropping his necklace. He grabbed it and laughed. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” *he leaned closer his eyes growing even more sinister.
He gripped his necklace hoping the power still worked. He threw you against the wall again. Shards of diamonds bursting through the wall. You stared at them. They were sharp and sparkled in the room light. You soon turned back to him. You could feel your self slowly growing colder. What was he doing?
You looked down. Your skin on your neck around his hands were growing blue. Crystal like diamond. Was he turning you into diamond?
“Montague! Wait- I’ll do anything!” You squirmed. He laughed and let go of you. It was too late. The spot he had touched would always be diamond. A reminder of his touch.
“Oh I have a good plan for you. I think your friend Peely will love to have some company.” He flew his hands down at your feet. Diamonds bursting through the floor. Your feet turning to diamond. You fell off.
A shard of diamond piercing you through the back.
“Tell Jonsey he’s never gonna see his friend again.” Those we’re the last words you heard before the icy cold feeling of the diamond coursed through your body.
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
A scream ripped from Sidekick's chest, their back slamming against the metal chair as Villains stalked closer. Sidekick heaved in breaths, squeezing their eyes shut as they whimpered, "Pl-please... i swear I don-don't know-"
Villain chuckled, "Don't worry, doll-face, I'm not as interested in Hero anymore, I'm more interested in you..."
Sidekick's eyes blew open as Villain's fingers curled around the edge of their mask. "Nonono, Vi-Villian don't you dare!"
"Oh, someone trying to be brave? How pathetic. Henchman, hold them still."
Two hands planted heavily at the nape of Sidekick's neck, keeping them still as Villain ripped off the Sidekick's mask. It took them a moment to take in the other's face, blood painting their face, complimenting the bright blue eyes that stared up at Villain in total fear.
"Oh darling," Villain cooed, "Aren't you just beautiful... Henchman, grab me the brass knuckles, I want them begging me for mercy by the time I am done with them"
---
continued on my patreon
#sidekick whumpee#villain whumper#hxv#brass knuckles#beating#whump#whumpee#whump drabble#whumper#whumpblr#whump community#whump writing#patreon#lee wrote something :o
242 notes
·
View notes
Text
ohh wait realized I could share my
henchman cosplay... v1
already planning to remake my wings, fix my shirt, and redo parts of my mask!
...the leg warmers and converse are staying!! I think its cute
#the venture bros#venture bros#vbros#caught on the web#monarch henchman#henchman 21#im not actually gary this is for reach ...
127 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dangerously-happy-world
Dangerously happy world
curatedtrash-blog
Curated Trash
sixfest
O
dvthucphamsachhnh
Thực phẩm sạch
cheesefairypancake
the Whut