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#but to be fair it’s a very short game
st-hedge · 29 days
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It wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card that I’d draw V again. Anyway I’ll go ahead ramble in the tags
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chipistrate · 4 months
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Vanessa getting a 4 installment super deep and cryptic arcade game series that has so much mystery surrounding it and is built on memories of the past
Vs Gregory getting the silly flappy bird clone with the daycare attendants and a bit of crypticness at the end
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akolnoix · 1 year
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i will never, NEVER, NEVER give up on living happily!!
idk how to even describe heisei pistol show except to say that it is absolutely worth playing. the most devastating ???/10 game of all time
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pechebeche · 1 month
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100%ed princess peach showtime in 3 days 💪💪 (this is a very short game)
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The thing is, if the Borderlands ever really happens and if it's successful enough to warrant a sequel or even start a franchise (doubtful, with the way franchises and blockbusters are doing at the box office rn) and if they choose to include Nisha at some point and if they choose to be true to her characterisation from the games in any meaningful capacity (biggest fear: casting some white lady a cowboy hat give her a one-line cameo in the tenth movie of the franchise), I do find myself wondering how what would be the most interesting way to do it:
Either: They choose to go in the same order as the games and make Borderlands 2 before Pre-Sequel: (pro: legendary game and legendary characters, people would be hyped enough for it to forgive possible sins of Borderlands 1, contra: not chronological), they would be introducing her as the Sheriff of Lynchwood first. This might be a little difficult for a movie because Lynchwood is not part of the main storyline so they would have to find a way to tie it back into the main Vault-Hunting/Stop-Handsome Jack/Defeat the Warrior lot. I could see them giving Nisha the role of some sort of danger following behind - the main characters just hear occasionally some rumours or see some signs that someone is following them, inquiring about them, having some goons report on them until there is eventually a twist (much like the Wilhelm fight) until she suddenly shows up in a vulnerable moment and almost ruins everything. The other option is that they do find a plot-reason to go to Lynchwood and the events unfold similarly to the way they happened in the game.
Or: They choose to do Pre-Sequel before Borderlands 2 in order to do things in a more logical order
Now, I feel like this provides some really fun options actually because here we get Nisha as a member of the main-gang and she's a pretty multi-faceted character:
they could focus on the seemingly 'chill, laid-back' aspect of her character first, possibly even introducing her as being somewhat relatable to Timothy because she's not a freaking stoic freaking soldier warrior war-machine like Wilhelm or Athena or as extra as Aurelia (I love you, queen) or ...well...Claptrap being Claptrap, so he starts out being somewhat grateful to have someone "normal" around - until she gets going and he finds out that there are Some Very Fundamental Things Wrong About This Woman
they could lean into the hero/lawbringer side and introduce her that way (this would also make sense if they did Borderlands 2 first and the audience knows her as the Sheriff of Lynchwood) and introduce her during the fight against the bandits on the Hyperion rocket in the opening of Borderlands TPS as someone who just really hates bandits and wants order for the universe - except then we begin to find out that she's also wanted for a BUNCH of crimes - which is where were get into the "the bandit who hunts bandits" thing - except as the movie goes on, we realise that she really always was that way and it's not so much a story about her losing herself or losing any ethical perspective but that she's really taking on a form and taking on roles that allow her to exert the violence she craves.
They could start with the "token evil team member" role right away (I mean, Wilhelm and Aurelia are also Wilhelm and Aurelia but Wilhelm is at best neutral evil and the whole point of Aurelia is that she does in the end become disgusted with what Jack is doing, while from Nish's perspective, Jack is (slowly, and arguably never completely) catching up to her level of single-minded viciousness and sadism.
Another thing I can imagine (because they cannot do the audio logs the way they did in the games) that the characters get a really quick O-Ren Ishii-style introduction with their backstories in different styles that fit the theme of their characters (e.g. a western style for Nisha)
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jheselbraum · 1 month
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People in the tloz fandom consistently draw Ganondorf too short and skinny and Link too tall and buff and that's fucking hilarious to me. Gotta balance out the universe I GUESS?
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orcelito · 9 months
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I always find it kind of funny what some other ppl consider "slow burn". Like I've been reading a fic that the writer repeatedly said was slow burn, but some 40k words in and they've had their first kiss...
I'm not complaining, but that just doesn't feel like that slow of a burn to me lmao. But Then Again, this is coming from the person who writes some of the slowest of burns... not the slowest, mind you, but like. In discacc, I'm pretty sure their first kiss happened around... what, 400k words in? Something like that. And they hadn't even officially Met (in person) until like some 70k words in.
And Then there's ITNL. Currently 74k words, and Wolfwood hasn't even officially entered the story yet.
We're in for the long haul, y'all :]
#speculation nation#itnl shit#discacc shit#sure i'll tag it. this post has me remembering writing it :')#but yea like. hm. i dont think it'll take as long in ITNL as it did in discacc for the relationship shit to happen#if i had to estimate... maybe around 200k? for the first kiss at least. based on my plans for it & all.#keeping in mind that ITNL as a whole could be 400k words. or more...#im notoriously bad at properly estimating word counts though#as seen by my 'im 150k words into discacc and halfway through the game so Surely the fic will be 300k words'#and im sitting pretty at 500k and still a good third of the game left. whoops.#i say it's not the 'slowest of burns' bc one of my fav fics ever is at... what... 600k? 700k? i havent looked in a while actually#so i dont remember. but after all of these words the protagonist still doesnt even realize he's got FEELINGS.#they held hands Once. easily made up for with everything else in the story. utterly fascinating mysteries. so on so forth#for the intersection of fandoms of ppl who know p5 and my shit. itnl rly is inspired by Marigolds.#the short and sweet summary that really tells you very little (so u have to tell via tags what it is)!!!#the time travel and years passed before even MEETING the other person again#im not going as in depth into it but the inspiration is there. im still just utterly enamored with Marigolds years later#and this is a trope so common in p5 fandom (the NG+ style of time travel) yet i hadnt seen it at all in t.rigun#so. yeah. maybe i moved to a new fandom and am taking inspiration from one of my fav fanfics ever#but to be fair discacc has been largely inspired by Marigolds too. just more with characterization than story structure.#anyways. dont worry ITNL readers there will be vw from like the moment they first meet. flirting inevitable.#but the actual resolution will take a while. Emotional resolution even longer than Physical resolution lol#if u read this far into the tags then xoxoxo love U. hope u enjoyed the hints of the planned structure for ITNL
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tripleboy · 10 months
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One of my mutuals posted a list of games they plan on playing and psy///nauts 2 was on there... stomach literally dropped
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raziraphale · 2 years
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I don't know how much of this is an actual decline in quality or just me, personally, having the shine taken off the ovw franchise because of *gestures vaguely at a deeply unethical company* but the new cinematic is... Not Good, writing-wise
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jrueships · 2 years
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Kyle/jimmy not a valid ship? [sad jimmy noises]
STFU JIMMY LMFAO 😭😭😭
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loregoddess · 1 month
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why does art have to be so art
#I really wanna draw Octopath fanart but something about the official art's style short-circuits my brain#like I sit down and start sketching and cannot figure out how to translate the style to my style#it's simultaneously more sketchy and more polished than my art style#so using it as a ref is Very Hard for me for whatever reason#this goes back to the first game where I wanted to draw all sorts of cool art and managed one (1) Ophilia#I keep telling myself if I get all the characters sketched in my style then I can just ref my own sketches instead of the official art#but hmm even something about how all the designs are is just. Tricky to get right#I dunno if it's just that I've spent years drawing FE fanart (and at one point did a fair amount of AA/DGS art)#that my brain wants to default to having that style be my base of reference but 'tis an interesting conundrum#I've drawn some TriStrat fanart too and had the same issue--the designs are just complex in a different way than FE complex to be difficult#actually I just went and checked and yeah I've drawn almost nothing but FE fanart for the past couple of years#I mean I've drawn plenty of original stuff too but that's significantly easier for me bc it's 100% me from start to finish; no translating#maybe I should make an effort to make fanart for other games....expand my range of base references#expand the art styles I am spending a fair amount of time looking at Very Closely#I was able to sketch some busts of some of the Octo2 characters and got Partitio to look how I wanted him to look#so that's a start at least#hopefully I can keep at it#oracle of lore
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blackmesa-vr · 3 months
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🥊🏆
#I hate making textposts because it feels like a big statement. A commitment of sorts. And that's not what I'm going for.#I don't expect anything I write to be read and they are not made with that purpose.#I write to let it out. Get it out of me. Make sure it's somewhere so at least I know I won't carry with me until my death.#So‚ with that said‚ I've been thinking a lot lately.#About fighting. About the curse of being the underdog by design. About how that only ever meant I was set up for failure.#In my games. In my ring. It was designed so despite it all‚ I could find a way to win.#Because it otherwise wouldn't be *fair* to the player. Despite the lack of rules. Despite the disparity in power and abilities.#It was still at least slightly *fair*. I always had a way to get close. Had an opening I could exploit.#We were still‚ despite everything‚ playing the same sport.#Smash is not like that. Nothing else is like that.#Only ever in the ring. Only ever in that small part of my life could I manage to be *more*.#It makes me think it was never me that did all that. I never had the capacity to win. I was never given the tools to survive.#I onlh just managed to get lucky with my environment.#There's something about trying your very best‚ working yourself to the bone‚ using every tool you have and all the strength you can muster.#And still be the weakest. I never stood a chance. There's no way the man designed to always be too small and too disadvantaged#could've ever truly pulled through.#Sigh!#At least I'll always be World Champiom. If only for a short while.#🥊🏆#I wonder if anyone else in the roster thinks about it. I wonder if it matters as much to them as it does to me.#Then again‚ most of their lives are not defined by fighting. So. I think my perspecfove may just be skewed.#Do they even know how much I resent them for the tools they were given... For the fact they were allowed to play an easier game than me...#rambling#Joker Persona 5. Hit me up. I have opinions about you you couldn't even begin to imagine.
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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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rosielovesf1 · 2 months
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spilling secrets on stream | LN4
what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?
word count: 1.3k
warnings: none!
author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!
also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶
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“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 
“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 
Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 
“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 
After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 
“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 
“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 
“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 
“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 
I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 
Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 
He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 
All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 
“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 
No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 
Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 
Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 
“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 
“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 
Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 
“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 
He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 
“Did they hear me?” 
“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 
“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.
Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 
He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 
“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 
“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 
“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 
“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 
She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 
“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 
“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 
“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 
“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 
“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”
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@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨
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@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭
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rafesaddiction · 6 months
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The tight end (or: Football Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You need to study for your exams and Rafe wants to watch the football game with his friends. Studying is boring and you need a little help from the boys. Rafe is not pleased.
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, spanking, rough sex, p in v, semi-public sex (they can hear you), fingering (they sure can see that), possessiveness, kinda size kink cause rafe is big, bratty!reader, grumpy!rafe, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, amused!barry, curious!kelce, i-can't-with-this!topper
Word count: 1.5k
Tagging @dream-pink , @dope-trope-105 since this is most definitely Rafe Cameron smut. Enjoy!
a/n This is none of the stuff I said I was working on, just something short to indulge myself. Something light and fun. It kinda takes place in the same “universe” as Hole Practice, but it's not part 2. Comments, reblogs and likes are more than welcome. They keep me from going insane. Go Panthers!
“Gonna get myself another beer,” Rafe groaned as he lifted himself of the la-z-boy.
“Might need something stronger to suffer through this shit show.”
He looked at Barry who had made the comment and was pointing at the tv screen with his beer bottle.
On the screen the Panthers were literally fucked up the ass. And they deserved it as they delivered their worst performance ever. This game really sucked. Rafe hadn't bet any money, but he took it kinda personal when his favorite team performed this shitty. It totally ruined his mood. To be fair, it didn’t take much to ruin Rafe's mood, but this was like in the top 20 of mood-ruining events. And this was supposed to be a nice relaxing evening, watching the game with his friends. Yeah, Barry was now officially one of his friends and none of Rafe's kook friends ever doubted his status – if they had, that would totally have ruined Rafe's mood.
“While you're at it, pretty boy, fetch me another one too,” Barry shook his half-empty bottle and grinned at Rafe, who had stopped on his way to leave the living room.
“Anything else I can do for you?” Rafe said in a sarcastic tone, frowning.
“You have some of these tiny snack bites? Diced cheese with a toothpick?”
Rafe shot Barry a deathly glare, who just chuckled.
“Uhm, I'd like another beer, please,” Topper's voice came from the left and Rafe's head spun around, making the blond shrink into the couch and mumble some sort of apology. Next to him, Kelce snickered.
Frowning, clenching his jaws, Rafe went to the kitchen – without killing one of his friends, yet.
Still frowning, Rafe rummaged through the fridge to get four bottles of beer. There were actually some cheese bits, which he left there, but he took a bag of chips out of the pantry, and returned to the living room.
And stopped in the doorway, almost dropping the beer at the sight of you sitting on the armrest of Barry's la-z-boy. You had your back to Rafe and were obviously engaged in some very intense conversation with Barry. You had drawn up your legs and were kinda kneeling sideways on the armrest. You wore one of Rafe's t-shirts, too big for you, but barely covering your ass. Your legs were naked – apart from the cat paw socks you wore.
“What are you doing here?”
You were not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be upstairs, studying for your upcoming exam. You were definitely not supposed to be cuddling up to Barry.
Rafe was fuming as you craned your head back to him and gazed at him with innocent eyes.
When you saw him, a sweet smile appeared on your face.
“Hi, Rafey.” Rafe flinched at the hideous nickname, but you continued speaking. “I was looking for you. I needed some help with opening a water bottle and Barry was so nice to help me.”
Barry sat up, looking at Rafe, winking at him and showing said water bottle.
“Always a pleasure to help a damsel in distress,” he said, his gold tooth showing as he grinned at Rafe whose face had turned red by now, his features tensed up, his nostrils flaring.
“And now he’s telling me all about the tight end.”
You smiled.
Barry grinned.
Kelce snickered.
Topper choked.
Rafe growled.
“Upstairs. Now.”
“But –” you turned towards Rafe, your feet dangling from the armrest, you looked up at him, pouting.
“Now!” Rafe barked and you flinched.
Having put the bottles and chips on the coffee table, Rafe walked up to you, grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder and carried you with him, despite your squealing protests.
Rafe sat you down on the kitchen island. You looked at him, with big eyes and sulky lips. His hands rested on either side of you.
“The fuck were you doing? I specifically told you not to come downstairs!”
He glared at you through narrowed eyes, tilting his head to the side.
You lowered your gaze, your fingers playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing.
“I was bored,” you admitted in a soft voice. Then you looked up, just with your eyes, meeting his.
“Please don't be mad at me,” you nibbled on your bottom lip, effectively directing his gaze. Then your lips parted, you breathed out and he saw the corners of your mouth twitch. “Rafey…”
He let out an angry growl, grabbed you, flipped you around and you squealed as your chest was pressed down on the hard surface of the kitchen island. Rafe shoved up your t-shirt and his hand hit your butt, only covered by your pink lace panties.
“Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again!” Rafe growled between gritted teeth and each word was accompanied by a slap on your ass.
You cried out, then tried to muffle your cries and whimpers by covering your mouth with both your hands, as Rafe gave your ass a very thorough spanking. He didn't care that your whining and crying could surely be heard in the living room as he hadn't bothered to close any of the doors.
One hand holding you down as you tried to wriggle your way out, while his other hand mercilessly slapped your ass and thighs, leaving marks in the form of his hand print.
His palm started burning and your skin must have felt as if in flames by now.
He was panting heavily behind you, his eyes on your ass as he pulled down your panties. He noticed the soaking wet stain and his hard cock twitched inside his pants.
You were a whimpering mess, your body trembling and only focused on the burning sensation his hand had caused, or you would have noticed what he was up to and you would surely have complained that you were still too sore from when Rafe had fucked you under the shower this morning.
You cried out as he pushed his hard cock into your tight pussy. He growled as he felt your walls clamping around him. He gave your already sore ass another slap, then started thrusting into you in a relentless rhythm, deep and hard, punishing you by using your body to satisfy his own needs. Your cries turned into whimpering sounds as he gave you what your body so desperately craved for.
Whatever you tried to say came out as a whining noise. His name was the only intelligible word you were able to utter.
“Rafe,” you cried.
“Rafe,” you moaned.
“Rafe,” you begged.
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulled you up, made you turn your head and his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, devouring and bruising. He felt you clench so hard around him and moaning into his mouth as you came around him. Pushing your trembling chest flush against the surface, he fucked you through that orgasm, savoring your heated body's uncontrolled convulsing, your shameless moaning and enjoying knowing that he did this to you, that he was the only one who made you feel this way.
Rafe came with a groan, his cock buried up to the hilt inside your soaking pussy, filling you with his hot cum. He felt how you tensed up at the sensation and your walls clenched, milking him.
When he pulled out, you whimpered.
“Shhh…” He caressed your back as he cleaned you with a kitchen towel and put your panties back on.
Rafe cradled you into his arms and carried you back to the living room.
Barry chuckled, but didn't say a word as Rafe shot him a menacing glance.
Rafe reclined in his chair and you cuddled up to him, burying your face at his heaving chest. You were still trembling, your legs drawn up to your own chest and you were clinging to Rafe, when he caressed your back with one hand, the other hand holding a beer bottle as he focused on the screen again where the Panthers had somehow managed to turn the game around.
Rafe's hand trailed along your thigh and you flinched. You pressed your mouth against his chest and he heard you whimper as his fingers brushed over the sore skin. And not only he could hear your little whining sounds has he grabbed your ass.
Barry looked at you from the corner of his eyes and then grinned at Rafe, slightly shaking his head, lifting his bottle to drink.
Kelce licked his lips as his eyes moved over your body.
Topper stared at the tv screen, clutching his bottle so hard, his knuckles turned white.
Rafe’s hand shoved your shirt up, rubbed over your bruised cheek. His fingertips pushed your panties to the side and slid between your folds, eliciting a sweet mewling sound from your lips.
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mphountitled · 4 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞
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Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader
Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you
Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking
He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him
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"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.
In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.
A torture chamber.
You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-
"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."
You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.
What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.
"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.
"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"
Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.
"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.
It should be vile.
Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?
With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.
The games are on.
Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.
They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.
As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.
Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.
With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.
"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.
"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.
Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.
His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.
You truly are furious with him.
"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"
Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"
"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.
"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.
Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.
"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.
"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."
Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."
The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.
Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.
"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.
"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."
A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"
"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.
You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"
"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.
It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.
"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"
"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.
"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.
A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.
While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.
"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.
"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.
His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.
"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.
"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.
"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."
"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.
As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.
"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"
"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.
It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.
He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.
"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.
"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.
"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"
"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.
"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"
"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"
You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.
You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.
"I want you too."
Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.
"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"
"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"
"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.
"F-Fuck-"
"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.
His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.
"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"
"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.
"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.
"You'd smoke anyway."
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