#He is convinced shit is rough between us but really it isn't | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lutawolf · 1 year

Text

I Will Knock You Episode 9 D/s point outs

I'm back!!! @thequeenofsastiel and I will be covering another episode for you guys. You can find her post here. The master post here.

These fucking teases, forcing us to sit through all that empty box suspense. Yeah! Can't he just join group 1!? I'm sorry Thi that you have an asshole friend. Look at Noey's fam though. Big support.

Noey is totally going to kick Phayu's ass, and is it bad that I'm here for it? Okay, so notice that Thi actually tried to order Noey. You see that facial expression. I'm rolling, you guys. Rolling! He didn't even bother to answer him. He didn't get mad, but he didn't answer either. "I'm sleeping in here." He's pushing right past his sub's boundary, but you've got to understand that it's not a hard boundary and this is more about Thi's nervousness at the whole situation than an objection to Noey. He even calls him out. "We've already slept together before. What is there to be shy about."

Then he brings up ghosts! Hilarious! Notice he asks if he can, cuddle. Then he only cuddles when there is no clear objection. This honestly has all the show casings of a No Kink. Like no, but I'm not going to shove you away and you could possibly convince me. Phayu is totally going to get his ass kicked.

"Don't let me see you go anywhere with him." Hard line and command. His face and body language says it all. "What are you talking about?" "I'll give you a smack!" This reminds me of the apartment when Noey tells him that he has two minutes and that's it. Noey will punish. Still, he takes care of his submissive. He brought Thi his stuff. And there is the Sadist, asking if Thi wants to shower together. Offering to wash his hair. Teasing his man. Love it!

I love Noey's group. I'm totally ghost shipping Tong and Thiw. Furthermore, I love the way Noey put the tag on for Thi. Even if he wasn't gentle about it. You can really see the age in little things like that. You can already start to see the balancing of Noey since being with Thi. He listens better and in general has grown so much.

Look at Noey serving his baby! I love how Noey's fam is just watching like the live slug. 🤣🤣🤣 Look how Thi pauses to look at Noey. Did you miss that, because I didn't. The kid is like, dude, take the fork. Hahaha Noey!!! Phayu, you deserved it. Okay, so Thi calls Noey out on not being nice to Phayu, but notice the language. "Noey, refer to Phayu in a good way for once. He's still your senior." In none of that is he referring or referencing himself. He is actually distancing himself from Phayu with that sentence.

Noey however, had already told Thi to leave Phayu alone and all he is hearing, is Thi defending Phayu. So yeah, that little head push is punishment. Which Thi recognized. Noey wasn't even being that rough. Was just reminding Thi who he belonged to. Shocked the shit out of a few people, though. He is trying to tell and show that he treasures his submissive. Thi is hearing him. Then here comes dumbass. I think it's fair he beats him up. Dumbass was trying to publicly embarrass him. He would have deserved it. Tell him Thiw! Tell him! I honestly think he deserves the ass whooping.

Now, Thi could sit anywhere. Everyone has brought up the age thing, but look where he is sitting. Right next to Noey. Noey scolds Thi, but he takes care of him. He's scolding because he's made. He really is upset that Thi isn't putting enough distance between him and Phayu. Doms are tricky. I can Dom a long-standing friend, typically even if they have a Dom. Say @dayummmdorisss got into a relationship with a Dom. She still recognizes me as a Dom because there is a friendship history there, but her Dom's commands would of course top me. There is also no romance there. Whereas Phayu is stepping on Noey's toes. We're possessive and won't accept that.

Noey is a smooth operator. Sliding in those comments to Thi. Then Thi tries to argue about taking a nap and Noey isn't having it. Even smacks his leg as punishment. Going and getting what Thi needs to be more comfortable. This is a Dom guys. Cares for his submissive. Treats his submissive as a treasure, but is still a Dom.

Here is the Sadist. Making fun of his snoring. Then teasing him about holding all night. Love it! Okay, so the finger point and the threat to smack. Just let Noey know where the hard lines are. Noey wasn't bothered at all and continued to tease.

When Noey tells Thi to come over. Thi comes over. It was a clear command that left no other choice, and Thi obeyed. OMG, look at the patience that Noey is learning. I'm so fucking proud of him. He is growing leaps and bounds. And not to mention Thi! Thi who used to get embarrassed and shy about everything. He is dancing without thought to anyone but his Dom.

Noey is front and center helping Thi when he needs to talk. He knows how Thi is, and he's fully there and supportive. The playfulness! Ahh, The playfulness! Love it.

That's it for this episode. I'm a little worried about the next one. Hope you guys enjoyed! 💜💜💜

#i will knock you #i will knock you series #noey x thi #noey watphlu #luta opinions #luta talks kink #i will knock you kink

79 notes · View notes

plexflexico · 5 months

Text

Verdant - A COD Fic Snippet

This is a small part of a much larger COD fic with a working title of "Tell Me Where Did You Sleep Last Night"

The Fic is a story about Captain John Price and his partner of over a dozen years. A story about how sometimes love isn't about grand gestures and all the expected trappings, but about meeting someone where they are, as they are... and how to navigate everything falling apart around you while holding on to the one thing that matters most.

Characters: Unnamed OC and John Price's love / Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word count: 1140

Verdant

In the darkness, so far away from city lights, she can feel the forest growing, crowding in from every corner of this little haven Ghost has built for himself.

The deep porch was dim and silent with old weathered wood breathing out a scent of its own as it released the heat of the day.

The side door opened, then closed with barely a sound. She didn’t look back, keeping her eyes focused on the stars just above the trees. Cat’s-paw quiet, the large man padded across the wide boards and slid next to her, setting a steaming cup of fragrant jasmine tea between her hands resting on the railing.

He says nothing, looking at the stars with her, still as the trees in the breezeless night.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to the sky.

“For what?”

“John and I weren’t the only ones who had to give up our secrets.”

He’s silent for some time, lost in the winding hallways of past and present.

She breaks her gaze, looking down at the cup. Raises it to her lips and sips, inhaling the steam and sighing quietly.

“Haven’t given up much,” he says quietly, his voice a low rumble in the dim.

“More than we have a right to ask for. More than you should be expected—”

Ghost interrupts her, sounding far younger than she knew him to be. “What’s he said? About me?”

Her expression doesn’t change, her eyes are still fixed on the sky, but her body stills entirely and the cup in her hands is gripped a little tighter.

“We hadn’t been together long. He asked me for an opinion— which I felt wholly unqualified to give— about a man he’d met who had been through hell and come out the other side of it.” She came back to herself, took another sip of tea and contemplated how much to tell, deciding that there was no point in lying to Ghost, but well aware that she had to be very, very careful. “I know about your family. I know about your father. Roba. Everything after— all of it. He’s told me everything.”

The man next to her stiffens, his fingers gripping the wood so hard it creaks.

“He wanted to know if I thought he had what it would take to do right by you.”

An intake of breath that was just a little shaky on the exhale, muffled behind the fabric of his mask, is all the response he can make.

“He was worried. Thought maybe that his methods— who he really is deep down— meant he wasn’t good enough. That you’d see through him to the dark bits he tried to keep hidden from everyone. Even me.”

A rough huff, half laugh and half scoff, flew up into the sky.

“He laid himself bare, scared he’d lose me— and we were so shit-faced, heart-racing in love then. He did all of that because he was desperate to keep you out of the hands of other men who’d use you badly. So he asked me how much of himself he should give to you, and whether or not it was enough.”

“You sound jealous.”

“If you were in my shoes, you’d be jealous, too.”

Brown eyes surrounded by black greasepaint searched her face as she studied her tea and tried to keep calm. He took a deep breath, hoping he could convince her. “It’s not like that, it isn’t—”

“It doesn’t need to be,” she interrupts him with a trace of bitterness lacing her voice. “It would be easier if it was. I could understand that. Work with it. I’d be far more willing to share him if it was about sex.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, you make it sound like we’re ‘avin’ an affair.”

“Like I said, it’d be a lot easier if you were.” She sighed, sipped more tea and finally turned to face him, her eyes bright and a little more shiny than she wanted them to be. “You have his back and he has yours. He’s your Captain. You’re his Ghost. You’re his and he’s yours in ways I can’t ever intrude on. It’s part of his life that I will never, ever be a part of no matter how long or how well I love him. He’ll drop anything and everything to go where you need him to be. Same with Gaz and Soap, to be honest. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do.”

Turning back to her tea she smiled a wry smile. “I imagine he feels the same way about Kate and I.”

“Is that why you didn’t get married?”

She laughs, sounding less bitter now. “John told you the truth, and so did I. Getting married would have meant me leaving my work behind and it may have meant John losing out on opportunities to do what he does best. We decided we didn’t want half a life— for either of us. So we chose to keep it under wraps and it was good. For a long time it was really, really good.”

“So you would have— otherwise?”

“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” Her eyes are back on the stars, the cup held loosely in her fingers.

“Dunno. Why’re you avoiding the question?”

“John always said you were a bit of a shit.”

Ghost raises an eyebrow, and though it’s barely visible behind the paint and the mask and the darkness, she can feel it.

"You're still avoiding the question."

"I can't answer it. I don't know what we would have done if things were different. I don’t know if we would have fallen the way we did if we were anyone but ourselves and if our lives hadn’t been what they were at the time." She drained her cup and turned around to lean back against the railing, finally meeting his gaze head on. “Wishing you could have something isn’t the same as regret for what you’ve got. Wondering what it would be like if things were different doesn’t mean you want more than what’s right in your grasp in the here and now.”

Her eyes drop again to the delicate porcelain that seemed both out of place and an oh-so-right piece to be pulled from Simon Riley’s kitchen cupboard. “It stopped mattering to us a long time ago. The only people left who need a wedding are people who either don’t love us enough to love us as we are— or people who love us so much they want us to have everything and damn the consequences.”

It was Simon’s turn to stare at the sky, eyes searching out familiar patterns he’s memorized through the years of calling this place ‘home’. “I told Johnny, once, that choices have consequences. What happens when your choices are taken away from you? How much do the consequences matter when everything else falls apart?”

#simon riley #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #captain john price #ghost cod #unnamed oc #fic writing

6 notes · View notes

channeleven · 1 year

Text

My Problem With Ed, Edd n’ Eddy’s Fifth Season

Okay, this isn't the first time I ever talked about the fifth season, but chances are it was a very rough take that I will only now put right. I used to be a big fan of Ed, Edd n' Eddy, well I still am, though I don't tune into old episodes. The show is over, the fandom is surprisingly well behaved, and I believe the show is superior to the shit people latch onto these days, for one thing it's not corporate, and no I'm not gonna explain what I mean by that.

But it's not all perfect, obviously. Nobody is reluctant to bring up any of the show's shortcomings, but there was one hangup I have with the show that persisted for so long. It seems like a petty thing to complain about, but the last season of Ed, Edd n' Eddy was so... not good, it actually convinced me that I just wasn't a fan of the show, when that is not the case.

To be fair, I'm not saying one season is better than the other, bad episodes are evenly spread out between seasons, and this wasn't necessarily out of Danny Antonucci's control, he went along with what seemed to be right, I mean aside from going digital, go drawn or go home. I really don't like the fifth season, and I feel it not happening would be inconsequential, and it seems I may not be alone with that, as most EEnE diehards actually liked my Tumblr post with the same opinion, and a common consensus is that it has some good episodes, some bad ones, or they're just happy to get more out of their favorite show.

I'm gonna go over why I don't like the fifth season of Ed, Edd n' Eddy, and why I believe it is expendable.

My Experience

I watched Cartoon Network during the early-2000s, so I was able to catch episodes of the fifth season when they were out. I have seen plenty of the older seasons' episides, I played Candy Machine Deluxe and Spin Stadium whenever I could, and I was basically ready for the long ride with the show.

When I saw the episodes new, I'll admit, I did like some of them, even those that would go on to be criticized later on, but even as a kid, something about most of the episodes felt... off, and this had stuck with me ever since then, to the point I found myself avoiding reruns of episodes I didn't like.

So no, I'm not doing this just for some contrarian cred, even as a kid I didn't like the fifth season that much, and that hasn't changed frankly.

Last Season Curse

People have often used the term seasonal rot to note shows that gradually began to crumble in its later years, and yes, I know this point is used ad nauseum, but for ever common complaint lies a kernel of truth. For every final season, it often reflects a lessened budget, like with ChalkZone or Real Ghostbusters for instance, or a creative director change, like the Chris Savino seasons of Dexter's Laboratory and PowerPuff Girls, not counting the Games era of Ren and Stimpy because let's be real, they didn't need John Kricfalusi, well, after he made the charaters. It's not always gonna be bad, but if you've been watching the show for a while, you're bound to pick up on a few differences. Seasonal rot does not always mean a show's last season sucks, it means this is a sign that either the creatives were worn to the bone with it, or the networks wanted it off as soon as possible, with a creative change only occurring if the original one steps down.

Danny was with the show all the way to the end, and that was for the better, he was always around to direct the episodes, but the one time he didn't during this season, we got what is often considered to be the worst episode of the entire series, or at least one that lands somewhere in the top five.

Some of the spirit of the previous seasons has been kept intact, but it is mixed in with some very noticeable tweaks that take away from that experience, often trumping what made the show so popular in the first place, and falling into the same trap that most shows do with new writers going off of notecards or struggling with ideas or stripping character personalities away.

The Little Differences

Now what do I mean by spirit? I mean the slapstick comedy in an otherwise normal setting. Danny, or someone, has said they avoid the prospect of characters growing up to preserve the timelessness of the series, which makes sense. The summer setting may also play into the timelessness by ridding any prospect of time moving forward, this shit could happen in the span of a few days or so and none would know the difference.

So obviously I object to the school setting.

I'm not gonna go all Mario fan on this, but I do have my complaints. That timeless setting, by implying that summer is over and having the kids go to school, it sorta takes away from the timelessness the writers were going for. If the show got more seasons, maybe we would've seen the parents, then you realize The Eds are Coming and Mission Ed Possible did the latter to a degree, Rock a Bye Ed doesn't really count as it was some depiction of Jonny 2x4 for the sake of the plot.

It's such simple things that were unfortunately cast aside, and so close to the finish-line too. Now look, I know this may sound like I'm making a big deal, fine, but I dunno, what do these changes add to the show at large? Granted, it's not just throwing in new characters on a whim, I like how creative they got to avoid showing any new characters, but if anything this marks a contrast between this and earlier seasons because you rarely saw any other instances in the older episodes. Keep this in mind.

The football episode shows the best and worst of making use of a limited cast for so long. While the Lemonbrook football team are depicted by shadows, we see shots of a crowd barely shown in, with the Kankers singled out. It just looks awkward, but like, did we need a football episode in Ed, Edd n' Eddy? That episode sucked balls, I'm sorry.

Our Friends in Name Only

And of course I need to get into how the characters feel just as off. To its credit, the characters have more consistency than other characters from shows that slipped into its terminal days, either that or they were more subtle about it. About the only major change I noticed was Ed, who turned out to be far more annoying than he was in the past, either because he tends to speak louder or may have lost more braincells than we were led to believe.

The big problem with the characters, at least for me, is the writing. The stories they are put into either drive them to over the top extremes rarely or never seen in previous seasons, and of course those on the lower end suffer the worst. Nobody likes Sarah, and of course she pulls a devastating fast one in "The Ed is Falling" or whatever the sky is falling episode name was. It's a Sarah plot without anything more to make it stand out, basically the 55% people don't take away from episodes like that.

And I gotta ask, why are Sarah and Jimmy in the same grade as everyone else? Otherwise why have them go to school if you're gonna treat it like it's still summer? It's almost as if this makes no sense even by an over the top cartoon's standard.

All I can say about Kevin is that he is a contributing factor to Smile for the Ed being seen as one of the worst episodes in the show, and yeah, seeing it brand new as a kid, all I can say is you had one job. On the other hand, maybe this was Danny's way of messing with the network, showing them what would happen if you separate him from the show. If that's true, that is clever, but it may've worked far too well.

But the one character I feel that suffered the worst because of the writing, was Edd. Much like how the season convinced me I didn't like the show, this season convinced me I didn't like Edd. The biggest draw here is when Edd smugly leaves Eddy to suffer for what he did or was associated with, even being involved with most of Eddy's misfortunes, or at least the no neck chump business. If you want to quit, just do so Edd, you're supposed to be the smart one right?

You may think 'oh, you see though, it's his way of showing he has backbone, just like in Momma's Little Ed.' And I can understand where you're coming from, but Eddy deserved it at the end, more importantly because he targeted Edd directly.

Really, the best way to compare Edd in most season five episodes is Sorry, Wrong Ed, the similarities are astounding, namely Edd's I don't give a shit about a guy I'm possibly friends with. If this was to set up some big argument, like in Big Picture Show, it wouldn't work because what set him off there was Ed and Eddy screwing with him during the journey to Bro. If it was as you thought it was, the series proper would've ended with Edd joining the Cul De Sac kids, arguably darker than the fourth season finale, because at least there the trio was still in effect.

It feels like sometimes the writers had it out for Eddy. We had some more brutal takedowns by the Kankers, even his own friends would turn against him, something was definitely not right with this, but what do I know?

The Core Element

I'd like to touch upon the slapstick real quick, I'm sure someone is gonna bring that up as a consistent element to the show. Yes, the sight gags and slapstick are here, but compared to those in the older seasons, even these feel off. Sure, they do happen, but... best way I can put it is that the older seasons had some slight restraint, pulling it off when you'd least expect it or having a really good gag pulled. Somehow, the fifth season feels even more cartoony, with faces and gags done that I would have never expected to see in older episodes.

It doesn't feel like they were included because they suited the series they were part of. In this season, it felt like they were included for the sake of being included, but it's as if the writers forgot their own work, or the network demanded more of it that we go overboard most of the time.

Check out an old episode, then one of the fifth season episodes, and tell me if you see something similar.

Its own

Interestingly, it was here that the show transitioned to digital animation, so me going on about the little differences hones in on how alien this season feels compared to others. With the gag execution, the treatment of most characters and the common setting, you can remove this season from the show and, really, what harm would it do? Anything new that occurred had done so in this season anyhow.

But you may be thinking, well without the fifth season, we wouldn't get Big Picture Show. Okay, maybe you have a point, but by then Ed, Edd n' Eddy was still very popular so I'm sure we would've gotten the movie regardless of the fifth season occurring or not. Especially so, since the movie occurred in the Summer, when the older seasons did. The use of digital animation in it helps make the spectacle more believable and feel like a grand finale. For one thing it looks better than The Loud House Movie, possibly even the Casagrandes Movie.

The fifth season has similar animation to Big Picture Show, and that dulls the spectacle aspect just a tad. The fact the fifth season throws in a new setting placement and hints of other characters ruins the mystique the movie would offer, in terms of the Eds exploring the world outside of the Cul De Sac, seeing small hints of new people, especially Bro at the end. Now, of course the kids make peace at the end, so that is a good thing at least, but we could've come to that without the fifth season.

If anyone was gonna bring up releasing the movie earlier because there would be no new content between when the movie came out and the fifth season did, how about a compromise? They could waste less time on a, quite frankly divisive season and just produce the holiday specials and participate in CN Invaded, new content in small increments, building up to a grand finale. I won't say some traces of the fifth season's writing didn't get into this movie, but at most it feels like the spirit of the older seasons was kept. Hell, even the over the top gags make more sense as this was a TV film with higher ambition than the previous seasons.

And I'm sure someone is gonna say if we didn't have season five things would end on a very dour note thanks to Take This Ed and Shove It's ending. But let's be real, you can wonder about that. It's not tragic, just a sarcastic yearn for lost youth, by this point everyone was on good terms and just got old. People say the last episode of the fifth season was a good finale, but honestly it felt kinda forced, and it was as if Danny gave an exasperated sigh of relief that he was finished with it. It was like a wet fart basically, especially since, lol, that wasn't even the last episode, and I don't mean Big Picture Show, I mean the lost episode that came from the proposed sixth season, of course they were planning more, but something happened and we never got it. Maybe somewhere, it was because the fifth season was such a groaner that people feared what other seasons would entail.

Final Thoughts

I understand Ed, Edd n' Eddy is a heavily respected show, and I can certainly agree with it. But even as a kid, I didn't like the fifth season's episodes very much. It felt like the show in name only, and it made me feel like I wasn't a fan of the show anymore. It has in quality what it has in expendability, and had this never come out, beyond the holiday specials, I think it would've made Big Picture Show a hell of a lot more satisfying.

#ed edd n eddy #review

33 notes · View notes

emmyspov · 2 years

Text

Even a spy needs a home (David Percival x reader)

author's note: oh god i am so happy with this one! i was in such a writer's slump and got so upset already because i did want to use some of my free time to write and now i created this! i really think it's my favourite thing i have ever written and i thought i'd share it, even if the fandom is like- super small? anyway! english (still) isn't my first language & all mistakes are mine. pictures are from pinterest <3

warnings: a lot of cursing and swear words, stitches (done unprofessionally), a tiny bit of spicy flirting

word count: around 1.5k

You let out a comfortable sigh as you wrapped the blanket closer around your body, more than ready to go to sleep. Things have been absolutely crazy, and you were convinced that sooner, rather than later, history would be forever changed. People have been protesting and somehow, the spirit was different than ever before. You were sure: a revolution was coming – the wall would fall. Soon.

The frantic knocking at your front door was what pulled you out of your thoughts.

“The fuck-“

It was already dark outside, and the only light was provided by your little lamp on the nightstand to your left. Visitors at this hour were never a good thing, especially because you weren’t expecting anyone. Nevertheless, it seemed urgent.

You pulled a sweater over your head as you walked to the door, trying to get rid of the shivers that spread through your body.

You couldn’t help but huff as you opened it a crack after unlocking it: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Can I come in? Please, I am hurt and- I don’t know where else to go.”

You pressed your lips together and crossed your arms. “Come in? You got some fucking nerve even showing up here.”

The man across from you tilted his head. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.”

“Excited? After the thing you pulled off last time? Fuck off, David.”

He furrowed his brows. “What I- What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy”, you muttered as you pointed your finger at him, “I am not dumb.” A huff left your lips, “Well, now that I think about it, maybe I am. After all, I thought this was something special between us. You told me I was different from the rest. It’s my own fault I believed that.”

His eyes never left yours as he spoke up, “Y/N, you are special. Whatever happened, I am sorry, but I didn’t do it. You must believe me, please.” David grabbed onto the doorframe and rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “Let me come in and we can talk about this.”

“Talk? Sure. And then you’re gonna set me up again, sending God knows who after my ass.” You straightened your back. “I can’t fucking believe you. Who was it? MI6? KGB? Maybe even the Stasi?”

The spy’s eyes widened. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

You clenched your fists and took a deep breath. “I am talking about the men who busted down my door an hour after you left and who completely tore this place apart.” Suddenly, your sweater was not enough to keep the shivers away.

David’s demeanor changed. “Did they hurt you?” His voice dropped an octave, sounding almost threatening if you didn’t know him.

You shrugged, “They were a little rough when they grabbed me, but other than that-“ You shook your head.

He breathed out and fished a cigarette out of the pocket of his coat. “Fuck, angel, I- I would never do that, okay? I know, I talk a lot of shit, but I am serious about this. I care about you, I wouldn’t risk your safety, I swear.”

It was getting harder to pretend you didn’t miss him. “Then who would?”

David gritted his teeth and took a long drag from his cigarette. “Fucking Satchel. Found my only weak spot and-“ He shook his head. “I’ll take care of this, I promise, I-“ He stopped himself from leaning in to kiss you and instead grabbed his bags again, turning around on the spot to walk away.

“David?” He turned to face you again, raising his right eyebrow. “You can also take care of- whatever this is after a home cooked meal, a warm bath and a good amount of sleep.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fully opened the door. “Come in.”

The agent let out a huge breath and briefly bowed his head before looking up at you again. “Thank you.”

You watched him silently as he walked into your living room, letting his bag fall to the floor before he sat down on your sofa while you hung up his coat.

He grinned at you when you stood across from him, first aid kit in your hands: “Is that my sweater you’re wearing?”

You looked down your body, internally cursing yourself for not checking what sweater you put on. You chose to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “You said you got hurt?”

David pursed his lips and rubbed his eyes. “My shoulder, it’s- it looks bad, but it just needs a few stitches, I think. Can you do that for me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I can put a band aid on you and give you a pain killer, I cannot do stitches, David!”

He clicked his tongue. “I’ll guide you.”

And that’s exactly what he did. For the next forty-three minutes, the agent told you what to grab and how to use it. After removing his shirt and cleaning the wound, you got to work. “I’m sorry”, you whispered when you started to pierce through his skin, but he didn’t even flinch.

“It’s fine, angel, you’re doing great.”

The rest of the stitches were done in silence, and you finished the little patching up session with a kiss to his upper back. “All done. I’ll just put a bandage on you, yeah?” You didn’t even wait for an answer and simply followed through with your statement, letting your fingertips gently run down his back when you were done. “Can I run you a bath?”

“That depends”, David smirked, “Are you going to join me?”

And just like that, his smug and sassy usual self was back.

You shook your head with a smile, “No, I will fix you a plate of food. But you take all the time you need. There’s a blue towel you can use.”

He got up without a word, but not before he kissed your forehead and brushed through your hair. This interaction almost felt like- no. David Percival did not do relationships.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but when David joined you in the kitchen, his hands weren’t stained with blood anymore and he looked almost peaceful, if a little tired.

You pointed to a chair at the table and watched him sit down before you put down a plate of casserole in front of him.

“It’s from yesterday which makes it taste even better”, you mused while you grabbed your cup of tea so you could sit down across from him. But David didn’t start eating. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you.

“I’m fucking horrible when it comes to this emotional stuff, but I need you to know that I do love you.” You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again. “I never planned to love you, not like this.” David cleared his throat and leaned back against his chair. “You weren’t supposed to be more than just another lover, perfect to have some fun with every once in a while, but for fuck’s sake, it’s like your kindness corrupted me in the best way possible.”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, but he just kept going. “Your softness rubbed off on me and my heart.” David licked his lips. “You make me want to quit all of this shit, live a normal life.”

His hand carefully settled on top of yours as if he was afraid to touch you. “Even a spy needs a home, and you are mine. I want to hug you and kiss you and make you happy. Only you. No more one-night-stands, no more lies.”

His words had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were struggling to come up with something that could deliver your own emotions, so you did the only thing you knew he’d understand.

Your chair creaked as you stood up and you walked over to the British man, carefully sitting down in his lap. His hands settled on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world, making you smile. You held your breath when you leaned even closer to him, your gaze flickering from his lips back to his piercing blue eyes.

“Welcome home, David”, you breathed and closed the gap between you with a gentle force. He hummed into the kiss and his grip on you tightened, making you dizzy with happiness.

Before things could get too heated though, you carefully brought some distance between the two of you and stood up. A whine escaped David’s lips and you chuckled, caressing his cheek. “You gotta eat first. Then we can continue this, love.”

“Lucky fucking me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and sat back down in your own chair, watching the agent dig into the food. His eyes met yours.

“It’s good to finally be home.”

#david percival x reader #david percival #atomic blonde #atomic blonde imagine #80s #1989 #emmy writes

18 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-17 · 5 months

Text

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 19

*Warning Adult Content*

- Carlos -

John frowns at me and blinks and the glow in his eyes is gone so quickly he could easily convince me I imagined it if he wanted to.

The rest of what I saw is harder to explain.

"So, seriously, what is this?" Becky, the ex-wife asks. "Is he your roommate or something?"

"No," John says, still looking at me. "It's exactly what you thought the first time."

"Oh... Really? I didn't know you swung both ways."

She eyes me with sharpened curiosity.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me? And why does he look terrified?"

She takes a few steps closer and peers at me with a frown.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Becky, wait downstairs," John growls. "This doesn't concern you."

Becky shifts her attention to him and crosses her arms stubbornly.

I suppose I should take it as a good sign that she seems absolutely undaunted but then again, she could be even scarier than John, for all I know.

"Fine. But you better have a good explanation. I see too much shit like this in my job to turn a blind eye."

She turns on her heel and marches back downstairs.

John's shoulders slum, and when he looks at me again, his expression is guarded but softer than before.

Still, as he closes the gap between us and stands in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his body, I turn my head aside and shut my eyes.

"Carlos. Look at me."

He rests his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

"What are you?"

Still clad in my towel, I shiver as much with suppressed emotion and adrenaline as with cold.

John takes my hand.

"Come here."

He tugs gently, leading me towards his room.

I resist briefly, fearful that I've been lured into some strange trap but his gentleness wins me over.

"Sit down." He points to his bed.

I obey.

He bends and opens a drawer built into the frame beneath it and pulls out a set of soft garments, checkered pajama bottoms, a t-shirt, socks and a sweater.

So that's where he keeps his clothes.

He sets the pile beside me.

"Put those on and wait for me here. I need to get rid of Becky. Then, we'll talk."

"Becky... Does she know... about that?" I nod towards the closet.

My voice is little more than a rough whisper but I don't dare speak louder just yet.

"No. No one knows. No one who isn't like me, anyway."

"Like you?"

He rubs a hand over his mouth.

"Carlos, I've no right to ask you to trust me and I won't. Trust has to be earned. All I can say is, I never intended to deceive you. All of this just... happened and I haven't had time to figure out what to do about it yet. Just give me a chance and I'll explain. You have my word."

Well, I did say he was a man of his word.

"What did Becky mean about seeing shit like this in her job?" I ask, my courage slightly restored.

"She works with the DA. Human trafficking, mostly. Someone bolting out of someone else's bedroom, naked and terrified, isn't a good look."

"I don't know about terrified," I say, my ego feeling a bit provoked.

"A little alarmed, maybe."

John's mouth quirks in a smile and the light returns to his eyes.

"Sure. We'll go with that."

He rises.

"Just give me a minute. Becky brought some papers for me. She coulda sent 'em by email but I think she misses the dogs. Relax and look around if you want. I've got nothing else to hide."

He leaves me and leaves the door open a crack, giving me the impression that I'm free to go if I want to.

I consider it for a moment, getting my stuff, sneaking out the back, calling an Uber and going to hide at Ian Foley's place.

Whatever John is, I'd have a bear and demon at my back and a whole pack of werewolves, if I asked.

'Whatever John is...'

As the thought replays in my head, a new one joins it, he could be a threat, not just to me but to my friends.

For their sakes, if for nothing else, I need to find out what's what.

Dressed in his warm clothes, which carry his strangely intoxicating scent, I sit at his desk and take my time looking through the file on my mother.

Most of it is incomprehensible to me, written in the format and language that law enforcement agencies use to talk among themselves but it's mostly the timeline that interests me.

They were following leads for years after I thought they'd given up.

The whole reason Aunt Toni moved us to Oregon was because that's where the trail went cold or so we'd thought.

This says otherwise.

After Oregon, there's a report from Washington state, then New Mexico, then Maine.

It makes no sense and it tells me that if my mother was or even is still alive, she didn't want to be found.

I lose track of time, staring at the puzzle before me but John knocks softly on the door when he returns so as not to startle me.

"Sorry. That took longer than I thought it would."

He keeps his distance and sits on the edge of the bed, while I spin his office chair to face him.

"Is she gone?" I ask, unsure if I should feel relieved that we're alone.

"Yeah," he smiles. "She knows me."

"You're still fond of her."

"Sure," he says easily. "Becky's my best friend."

I frown.

"Why'd you separate, then?"

"That's what you're leading with?"

He huffs a laugh.

"All right. I did say I'd explain everything."

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"It was a... 'marriage of convenience.' Becky's parents are from China, and very traditional in their views. She has no interest in marriage but they wouldn't leave her alone about it. Meanwhile, the closer you fit to society's norms, the less you're scrutinized and I had an interest in blending in. It suited us both but over time, we realized it wouldn't work. We weren't in love and never would be and we were tired of pretending otherwise. So we split and when my brother died and left me this place, I asked to be reassigned."

"Reassigned... by the police?"

He shakes his head and nods at the closet door.

"You saw what's in there, didn't you?"

I nod.

He rises and crosses the room, opens the door and sweeps his gaze around the interior.

He steps through, then returns holding a battered shoe box, which he sets on the desk in front of me.

"I been digging through your past. Only fair I let you dig through mine."

He lifts the top off the box, revealing a small stack of papers, on top of which rests a photograph.

In it, a smiling family, a mother, father, an older boy and two younger children, stand in front of the castle at Disneyland.

Judging by the style of hair and clothes, I'd guess it was taken about thirty years ago.

"That's my parents, my older brother, my little sister and me," he says.

I study the picture.

"Okay, but why are you showing me your old vacation shots?"

"This is the last picture I have of us all together. A few weeks later, my brother left for college. A few months later, my father, mother and sister were dead."

"How?"

He sighs and picks up the picture.

"My dad traveled a lot for work, all over the world. Don't know where he got infected but by the time got home, it was too late. He killed my mom and my sister. He would have killed me, too, if David hadn't shown up and killed him first."

"David? Who's David?"

"A vampire hunter and a vampire himself... as he would say 'one of the lucky ones.'"

Wide-eyed with alarm, I touch the spot on my shoulder where he'd bitten me.

"Is that what you are?"

He shakes his head.

"I'm infected but not turned. David found a way to control it, to stop the infection from taking hold but it has to be caught early and it doesn't always work. He'd been tracking my dad, hoping to catch him in time. Instead, he found me as I bled out. My dad hadn't bitten me, you see, he'd just clawed my throat. David took a chance. He knew if he infected me, the infection would save my life. He also knew he might have to kill me anyway, on the other hand, if I survived, he'd have a very motivated protégé."

"That doesn't sound entirely altruistic," I venture.

John laughs softly.

"It was, and it wasn't. David isn't human, hasn't been for a long time and he doesn't see things from a human perspective. On the other hand, his entire purpose is to protect humans from 'our' kind and to protect our kind from humans."

"I thought you said he was a vampire hunter?"

John sets the picture back in the box.

"He is. He's never been able to isolate it but David's theory is that vampirism is caused by an elusive retrovirus, one that rewrites the host's DNA. Sometimes, the process results in someone like David, nine times out of ten, it results in a mindless monster, like my dad. David is part of a small, global organization of like-minded individuals who keep the monsters in check and the humans in the dark. You can imagine there wouldn't be much of a distinction between 'good and bad' if people learned vampires are real."

He glances at me.

"Speaking of, you don't seem as freaked out by that as you should."

I shrug and pick up the photo, holding it next to the one of me and my mom.

"I talk to ghosts and get possessed by demons, remember? I grew up with this shit."

He grunts noncommittally.

"I'm more freaked out by this."

I gesture at my mom's file.

"Why are you looking into it?"

"Vampires aren't all I hunt," he says, confirming my suspicion. "Rogue werewolves, feral shifters, the odd warlock or power-hungry sorcerer. We stay out of intra-community conflict, supernatural on supernatural violence isn't our concern but when humans are the target, we've got a case. Anything the human authorities aren't equipped to handle or the shit we don't want them messing in."

"What about demons?"

"Sometimes."

"What about my mom?"

He rubs the back of his neck.

"After you told me about the Feasts, I did some digging. The last documented case I could find, three murders that matched the description you'd given and occurred within the right time span, happened about twenty years ago, close to the town where you grew up. Your mother went missing about a week later."

"What?" I look up at him sharply. "No. There's no way Aunt Toni wouldn't know about something like that and she'd have mentioned it if she did."

"Are you sure about that?"

I frown up at him.

"Yeah. Why are you asking?"

He sighs, crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed again.

I rise and approach cautiously, standing in front of him.

"John? What aren't you telling me?"

"When you told me your aunt hadn't replied to your messages, I thought it was odd. Not unheard of for estranged family members not to speak but odd given how highly you speak of her otherwise. So, I asked the local sheriff to do a wellness check."

Heart in my mouth, I take a step closer almost involuntarily.

"And?"

"And she's gone. Her garage looks like it's been empty for weeks, if not months. The sheriff is investigating and has agreed to keep me informed of everything he finds. I'm sorry, Carlos but it appears that Antonia Martinez is missing."

"Whoa, whoa," I hold up my hands. "You think Toni has something to do with this?"

"No but I think it might have something to do with her. And with you."

I stare at him, no doubt with the wild, frightened look of a cornered animal and he rises and approaches me slowly.

As he does, his eyes shift color and glow with reflected light again, making me wonder how Becky never noticed there something a little different going on with him.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll protect you if you let me and we'll do everything we can to find your aunt. In the meantime... there's one other thing we need to talk about."

1 note · View note

bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years

Text

Ugh. Dad's. Am I right?

#Shit is so stupid #My family is going throught shit and he is at the centre of it with my mom and sister and he SHOULD be focusing on and dealing with them #But he disturbs me on a Sunday to talk about nothing #Like we are all good dude #Calm down #BHF vents #I am TRYNA WRITE bro #I'm DOING SHIT #He is convinced shit is rough between us but really it isn't

7 notes · View notes

nessaxc · 3 years

Text

___________________________________

Romance Me || Gojo Satoru

You break up with Gojo because he isn't giving you what you need in the relationship. And when you get a rebound, Gojo isn't too happy about that.

~ Words: 3.7k

~ NSFW 18+

___________________________________

You broke up with Gojo months ago simply because you weren't getting what you needed from the relationship. It was lacking heavily in the romance department, like was it so much to ask for him to be romantic once in a while? Maybe a candle lit dinner? For him to send you flowers and chocolates? Though, you shouldn't have been surprised, this was Satoru Gojo we were talking about, romance wasn't in his vocabulary.

At first your relationship with him was fun and exciting, and the sex was amazing and he was so adventurous in the bedroom, there was literally nothing he wasn't willing to try, which was one of the many things you adored about him. You just felt like the relationship wasn't going anywhere, and sure fighting curses in the city was exhilarating and having sex in his car was thrilling but you wanted more than just being destructive with one another. Maybe a relationship with Gojo was doomed to fail from the start, but you still hoped that maybe he would have a change of heart and start treating you the way you deserved to be treated.

He didn't take the breakup very well, you knew he wouldn't, and he was quick to flip the situation around and act like he was the one that broke it off when that clearly wasn't what happened. When you explained why you were choosing to break up with him, he didn't understand, he believed because you were a Jujutsu Sorcerer, a word like romance wasn't in your vocabulary either, but there was a lot more to you than being a fellow sorcerer.

Because you wanted to show Gojo what he was missing, you found yourself a rebound and started flaunting him off to the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, making sure to hold hands with him and kiss one another while Gojo was in the same room, just to provoke him. The sorcerer welcomed your new boyfriend with open arms, allowing you to invite him over whenever you wanted as long as he followed orders of course, which got under Gojo’s skin even more, because not only did he have to hear you talk about him all day, but he had to see you two together being all lovey-dovey with one another. Gojo knew that you couldn't care less about this new rebound of yours, that you were just keeping him around merely to make him jealous, and he found that he loathed seeing another man touch you and be in the same proximity as you. You were supposed to be his, and only his, and the thought of someone else in your bed made him feel sick, it made Gojo want to tear this guy limb from limb, and he would do just that after he got you back.

One night after you and your new boyfriend were spending some heated alone time together (and you two were sure to make a ton of noise so Gojo could hear everything) you went downstairs with him to open the door for him and to exchange sappy goodbyes before he left the building. You closed the door with a loud bang before you made your way back upstairs to your room. When you returned to your room, you saw Gojo sitting comfortably on your bed, sitting cross legged, humming away a tune as he waited for you to come back.

"Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked with narrowed eyes, annoyance evident in your tone. "You know me and my boyfriend just had sex on that bed, right?" you added with a snort.

"So you replace me for that piece of shit?" he rasped, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

"I guess so, he's so much more romantic and sweet, and he knows exactly how to make me happy," you said as you dreamily sighed, taking a seat on a chair across the bed as you looked at him.

"Tell me you didn't let him come inside you," he replied gruffly, his tone threatening and dripping with venom as the mental image crossed his mind.

"You have no business knowing that, so I don't need to answer any of your invasive questions," you told him before you added with a wide smile, "but what I can tell you is that he has a bigger dick than you, and he's way better in bed than you, he's got more experience," you lied, shrugging your shoulders, relishing in the fact how overwrought he was with jealousy.

He merely laughed at your response, knowing that you weren't being honest with him or yourself, "Oh Y/N, don't lie to me and yourself, I bet he can't even make you come," he said with a forced smile stretched across his face in attempt to hide some of his anger. "C'mon, we both know you're just using him because you're not with me anymore, it's so obvious it's pathetic, and there's no way in hell that shithead can really make you happy."

"Oh of course he does, like I said he has a ton of experience and he knows exactly how I like it," you lied again with a smug smile stuck on your face. "Someone sounds jealous," you taunted in a sing-song tone.

"Oh yeah? Sure he does," he spat as he sneered, and in one quick motion he removed himself from his position on the bed and you stood up from the chair as well when he stepped towards you, standing face to face with you. "What makes you think I'm jealous anyway? I don't give a shit if he fucked you," he continued in a harsh tone, each word laced with acrimony.

"Really now? Sure sounds like it," you mocked with a curl of your lip, "I didn't think you were the jealous type."

"That's cause I'm not, your little boy toy just fucking vexes me," he snarled as he took another step towards you, so close now that his hot breath was fanning over your mouth, sending a tingle down your spine as your gaze remained unwavering upon his. You could see every twitch of his features, he was sick with envy, that much was clear. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching in frustration as you continued to look at him with that self-satisfied smile.

"Tell me then, why does he vex you?" you asked, playing dumb, tilting your head to the side as you waited for his answer. You expected him to start cursing you out but instead he grabbed a fistful of your hair until you were both looking each other directly in the eye, barely a distance between you two. He crashed his lips into yours, devouring you in the ruthless kiss you had come to know so well. When you felt his tongue retract to plunge further, you bit down hard on his lower lip. You heard him intake a sharp breath, a low, guttural growl vibrating deep as you crushed your lips upon his, without a care if you hurt him or not, teeth knocking and noses bumping from the rush of the kiss. His hands groped around your hips, his fingers digging hard under your skirt and into your pantyhose, tearing the fabric as he lifted you by your ass, slamming you back against the wall, forcing your legs apart and hooking them around his waist.

"I fucking hate it when people touch what's mine," he breathed heavily against your mouth, "you're mine, Y/N, you don't belong to anyone else," his tone was raspy and threatening as he growled possessively.

"Now that sounded romantic," you hummed, and he smirked against your lips as he continued to press his pair insistently upon yours.

Your nails started to scratch and dig into his back, leaving streaks of pale, pink lines, making him groan into your mouth. You bit his lower lip hard and held him close to you as you ground against him feverishly. He panted hard against your mouth before turning his attention to your neck, biting and sucking hard, making you yelp out from the stinging sensations that spread across your whole body. It wasn't long until you got your revenge and started to bite and pull on his jaw, lips and chin, continuing the assault on his neck and shoulder.

You could feel his member hardening as he pinned you with his body. He was suffocating you, and every time you attempted to come up for air, he denied you. You were tasting blood, and you couldn't tell if it was his or your own.

Finally managing to grab a fistful of his hair, you pulled him back as you both gasped for air. Fresh blood was smeared across his mouth, it was blended with your lip-gloss like a stain. It was rough and perfect, just the way you liked it. He knew exactly how to suck you right back in. You both remained this way for what might have been mere minutes, but it felt like an eternity. His bright blue eyes were burning and intense, a wry grin playing in between each breath.

His tongue languidly licked the blood from his lower lip before he leaned in just beneath your jaw, biting hard into the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth piercing it. You emitted a loud moan, bucking and grinding down into his hips as you felt him sucking and pulling you tighter to him, crushing your breasts against him. You were convinced he was trying to tear your flesh from your bone, until he finally released his seal with a loud pop.

"If I have to keep branding you until you remember who you belong to," he started, his voice gravelly against the bruise already forming and blending into your neck as you felt his hand drawing down your thigh, tearing the skirt off along the way. "I will."

"That's more like it," you purred. You were both tearing off the other's clothes in a frenzy, tossing aside the articles of clothing across the room in your haste. When you were both completely bare, he hoisted you up by your ass, and you clung to him before he dropped you down on the bed. He was quick to crawl atop you, and he pushed your legs aside with a hand, seeking out the scorching heat between your thighs.

Your breath hitched as his thumb dipped between your dripping folds, parting you as he spread the wetness gathered there, your hips jutting out impatiently against his touch for more contact, "so wet for me, and only for me, you're not allowed to be like this for anyone else," he cursed hoarsely, his voice raw with his need for you. His fingers danced against your sex, palm pressing into your engorged clit, earning him a mewl of pleasure.

You threw your head back against the bed, your body arching into his touch to give him better access to the place you needed him most. You released a sharp intake of breath when he sunk two of his long fingers into your tight wet heat, his palm brushing against your clit as his lips dropped to your heaving bosom while his fingers worked over you at a maddening pace, turning you into a whimpering wanton mess beneath him.

You were putty in his hands, your body molding itself to his talented fingers with a drawn out moan. Gojo groaned at the feeling of your slick walls wrapping so deliciously against his digits, and his hard member was throbbing as he thought about how all he wanted was to take you the way he used to. You rocked your hips against his probing fingers, your eyes squeezing shut with pleasure, body begging him to pick up his pace within you. He was quick to comply, his fingers meeting your thrusts before curving them inside of you, making you cry out as you called his name in unadulterated praise.

His fingers surged into you as he rolled his wrist repeatedly against your clit, bringing his forehead to your own, his nose brushing upon your own, lips inches from yours as he groaned, "Come for me, baby, I want you to come for me, just like you used to."

He sucked your swollen lip into his mouth, leading with his chin as he listened to your strangled plea for mercy, making him chuckle in amusement.

"Come on, come for me, Y/N," he drawled out, scissoring his fingers inside of you as you moaned shamelessly, your toes curling in anticipation for the release you so desperately craved. "Come for me," he repeated, his gaze flitting to your closed lids as he watched you fall apart from his ministrations. With one more rapid and harsh thrust of his skilled fingers, you moaned his name out as you came, completely soaking them with your juices.

He smirked proudly, slipping his fingers from your quivering walls which instantly made you whimper in protest. He lifted his hand to his mouth, sucking his drenched fingers between his lips to taste your sweet essence. Your body heaved against the mattress, watching intently as he tasted you, licking your lips as you heard his moan of approval, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"Mmm, it's just like I remembered it," he purred.

He released his fingers after he was sure he got every last drop, there was a wicked gleam in his eye before he lowered his lips to your nipple, taking it greedily within his hot mouth. He tortured the flesh with his tongue and mouth, alternating between nipping and sucking as his hand worked at the other, pinching and twisting. He smirked against your bud as you moaned encouragingly, spurring him on. He released you, his hand and mouth switching places, sucking upon one and thumbing the other, making you emit moan after moan.

"Only I get to touch you now, no other fucker touches what's mine, you hear me?" he rasped, growling deep from his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to your core as he once again wrapped his mouth around your nipple, sinking his teeth into it and making your whole body tremble with the harsh treatment.

You rocked your hips desperately against him which made him let out a strangled sound around your nipple. "Satoru," you whispered breathlessly, your head thrashing about against the sheets, his mouth and fingers completely relentless. "Please fuck me, already, stop wasting time, fuck I need you."

"That's the spirit baby," he cooed before he asked in a taunting tone, "and where do you need me exactly?"

His eyes were dark and hooded as he looked upon your flushed face, red coloring your cheeks, his warm breath hitting your tender, wet flesh, making you whimper and keen. "You miss me, don't you? You miss me filling you up, fucking you senseless into this mattress like I used to, huh? Tell me Y/N, you need to tell me," he demanded as he bumped his hips against yours, teasing you mercilessly.

"Yes, yes I miss you, I miss us, I just want to feel you inside me again," you admitted through a ragged breath. His lips curled into a smug, amused smirk, his eyes shining with dark intent. You couldn't wait any longer, you just wanted to feel him inside of you again like before.

"Of course you miss me, I knew that shithead was doing a shit job pleasing you," he taunted, "now get on your hands and knees for me," he ordered huskily.

You were quick to comply, positioning yourself on your hands and knees before him, his mouth watering at the sight. He dipped his head down beside yours, his lips pressing against your ear as he whispered, "That's a good girl, fuck, I missed seeing you like this," he told you, moving to take his position behind you. His length was digging deliciously against the curve of your backside, and you curved your spine, wiggling your ass impatiently in his direction, bracing yourself on your forearms and elbows.

"Just like that, you're fucking beautiful," he purred, expressing his approval, his voice dripping with sin. He worked his hand over his rigid shaft in a few jerky movements with his fist, swiping the head of his member against your dripping sex.

"Satoru, oh fuck," you whimpered as your fingers clawed at the sheets beneath you, grabbing and pulling at them in your desperation. He bit back a groan as he felt your wetness come in contact with his head. His hand wrapped around your hip with a bruising grip as he finally thrust into you, sheathing himself into your wet heat with a grunt.

You gasped loudly, eyes shutting instantly and your walls closing in on him the second he slipped inside of you. You buried your head into the sheets as he stretched your inner walls in a way the man you were with never could. "Fuck," he groaned as he started rocking his hips against yours, slamming into you with a brutal, relentless force that had you bucking back up into him.

He gripped your hips tighter as he withdrew, then slowly plunged his member back in, pumping himself in and out at a frantic pace as you writhed and squirmed underneath him.

"So beautiful, who has the bigger dick? That little shithead, or me? And don't lie this time," he taunted through a drawl.

"Satoru! Yours is the biggest," you replied in a moan, mouth open wide as another cry emitted from your lips after a particularly harsh thrust, his way of expressing how much those words pleased him. "You make me feel so good, I can't get enough of your big cock," you whined as you matched the rhythm he set, though you were having trouble keeping up with him, and your hips were stuttering against his as you continued to squeeze his member greedily between your silken walls.

"That's right, and you're mine, all mine, no one's going to take you from me," he whispered as he rammed himself into your quivering, soaked entrance, the slapping of skin ringing in both of your ears. He sighed in relief when he pulled out only to surge right back in, his nails digging harshly into your hips as he yanked them closer, making sure that your whole body would be sore and aching tomorrow and that you wouldn't ever forget how he made you feel.

You moaned into the mattress as he continued to fill you, pounding you into the bed and his balls clapping against your flushed cheeks as you writhed about, fisting the sheets in your hands as tight as you possibly could. You were trembling with each heavy, rapid thrust, and you felt like you were going to combust from the heat that spread across your whole taut body. You breathed heavily as your head tilted to press your cheek against the bed, "Oh, I can't-"

Your words were swallowed by a soft cry, and you felt your walls clamp around his length, your climax threatening to burst within you.

"That's it, I want you to come for me again, come on," he urged, picking his pace up to push you over the edge. He drove himself into you over and over again, his thrusts sloppy and hips stuttering, knowing that his own release wasn't far behind. He was hitting that sweet spot with every single deep plunge, and it had you yelping out his name breathlessly as you trailed your quivering hand down until you found the spot right above where you two were joined to stimulate your engorged clit.

"That's it, touch yourself for me, baby, oh, just like that," he encouraged through a groan.

You rolled your clit around feverishly with shaking fingers as you sought release, pressing into it relentlessly and never ceasing in your movements, flicking and rubbing until you couldn't take it anymore.

With one final harsh thrust, you came with a shout, his name pouring out of your lips as your walls clenched all around his member. You bucked your hips wildly against him, and your release sparked his. He shot his thick seed up within you, filling you up with his warmth, just like he used to, his head falling against your backside as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you fell boneless against the mattress, your arms giving out on you.

He allowed himself to remain sheathed inside of you until he softened, pulling out very slowly, making you hiss between gritted teeth at the sensation. He was quick to roll you around so that you were on your back now as he joined your side, both of you panting heavily and sucking in air desperately after the intensity of your orgasms. You two laid there on the disheveled sheets, silence thick in the air, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat as you stared up at the ceiling.

All of a sudden, Gojo whipped out a dark red rose, twirling the stem between his fingers before he handed it to you with a smile on his lips.

"Thought you would like it," he told you, his voice hoarse. You smiled as you took it, a warm and fuzzy feeling swelling in your chest at the romantic gesture. Perhaps there was more to Gojo than you originally thought. You took a whiff of its aroma before you turned to him and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, I will give it some water," you replied with a chortle before you placed it on your bedside table.

"You're mine. And I'm yours. Understand?" he told you breathlessly. He reached his hand out to grab yours, entwining his fingers through it as he held it up to his mouth, placing a quick peck on it before he pulled away.

You sighed dreamily as you nuzzled your head underneath the crook of his neck, curling up into his body before you replied, soft laughs spilling through small pants, "You so love me, it's official."

He merely laughed in response as he held you close to the warmth of his body, snuggling up to you as you hummed appreciatively. He didn't need to say it for you to know it.

___________________________________

322 notes · View notes

thefact0rygirl · 3 years

Note

Hello darlin'! I hope you don't mind that I keep buggin' you about post-Order 66 Rex butttttt here I go again with another thot(s) that is short enough to be put in your inbox this time hmmmm I was gonna put this thot in your inbox but I got carried away heh heh

Soooo after leaving the Lawquane's it was time to move on

If Cut and Suu had heard the two of you last night, they didn't let on

Suu had asked if you wanted to stay with her and her family while Rex does what he needed to do, but obviously there was no way in hells you were going to separate from your love and Rex felt the same way, so you continue to tag along with him in that cramped y-wing while he scouts out the remains of the Republic

Anyways, every time you make a fuel or supply stop he is on you like green on grass in whatever shitty inn the two of you lay low in for the night

It hasn't exactly been his direct mission to get you pregnant but he's keeping the "whatever happens, happens" mindset every time he fucks you, nearly mirroring that night in the Lawquane's barn when he kept his fingers lodged inside you to keep his release trapped in there while you slept

You both know the time isn't exactly right to bring a child into this rapidly changing galaxy but it's not like you could convince Rex not to fuck you and hold himself deep inside you

With all the death he's witnessed and loss he's felt, it makes sense how Rex wants to be the creator of life and be a caretaker for something so important and pure - his child

I'm v excited to see more of Rex's journey after his first appearance in tbb. Then I'll have more fuel for post-O66 Rex :')

Beloved M, you are never bugging me! You ruined me with that thot and you’re blessing us with more???? Please yes, you can have the entire vip section and bottle service my blog can offer 🍾🍾

But until we get our next scrap of Rex, can we talk about how Rex levels up after Bracca?

It starts all the way at Cid’s place, specifically when you interact with Omega. He sees how gentle you are with her, hanging out with her, and it immediately puts him in the same mindset of when you were visiting Cut and Suu.

It only solidifies in his head that he wants to bring a life into this world with you and you alone, but shit really gets amplified on Bracca. You tag along with him to help remove TBB’s chips, meaning you were there when everything went down with Wrecker.

Maybe you and Omega get separated from the rest of the boys. You and her are hiding in that room and only one of you will be able to get out without Wrecker seeing. You decide to distract Wrecker long enough for Omega to escape. And well, we all know that Wrecker is a fucking tank and the chance of you getting out (alive) isn’t high.

You’re ready to sacrifice yourself to save Omega, but luckily, Rex comes in just at the right time to stun Wrecker.

Rex is quiet for the remainder of your time in Bracca. You and him are able to get the chips out, but Rex is off. He is antsy, always pacing or moving in some way. He also remains close to you the entire time, never letting you out of his sight for a second.

When you two finally part ways with TBB it’s a miracle you make it back to the y-wing in one piece, but once you’re there, it’s all over. Dom!Rex levels up.

Everything that happened sets something off deep inside of him. Seeing you protect Omega and also seeing you in danger, it unlocks a new level of savage in him.

He always thinks you’d be a good mother, but seeing you in full momma bear mode just makes his caveman brain take over.

He pushes you on top of some scrap of rubble and is ripping off your pants faster than ever before. You’re positive he’s even ripped them and you’ll need to stop for another pair.

He buries his face between your legs, breathing in deeply and just smelling your scent and gripping your thighs so tightly you’re positive you’ll have his hand prints bruised into your skin.

And he starts licking and sucking until his face is drenched in you. He wants to feel you, taste you, hear you, bathe in you to remind him you’re still here and safe. Safe with him. The thought of what would have happened if he had woken up a second later keeps pushing him until he’s close to coming in his pants.

He finally lets off after you’ve come. Your legs are jelly so he is maneuvering onto your front, grabbing himself and running his tip along your soaked slit, gathering the juices before pushing in.

He fucks you rough and fast, and with a faint hint of desperation. The whole “we almost died” sex really pushes him over the edge.

He is still every sense in the “whatever happens, happens” mindset but I could totally see him taking extra steps to tilt the scales in one direction. He is not only plugging you with his fingers, but he is keeping your hips elevated at the same time. He takes note of your cycle and becoming hyper vigilant.

#asks #djarrex #excuse the typos and jumbled thots #on my phone #captain rex x reader #post-o66 rex #captain rex #dom!rex

156 notes · View notes

justformyself2 · 3 years

Text

Rainstorm

Yep. I'm a grown adult, but i feel like i need to tell you not to tell my mom. That is all I'm going to say.

WARNING: +18 READING. Probably some grammar mistakes ♥

John Krasinski x Reader.

Masterlist for more

You remain in the same position, missing countings of having to re-read the same phrase at the top of the page. He is watching you, and it burns, mostly because you were about to give in and were, still, putting up a stupid fight against yourself.

He wasn't playing your games anymore. There was another field being stepped on, other than the childish silent treatment phase, followed by the disgraceful conversation.

You disguised yourself in doing other 'chores' instead of enjoying every little bit of time left with him before LA could come in between and settle you two into the silent treatment for good.

John gets up from behind the desk on the other side of the room, where he stayed most of the time, where you had caught him ignoring his laptop more than once to look at you. He simply marks while making you catch on fire.

So that was the subtle game he was playing, testing you, bending you like a fragile stick, not even using much strength.

Him putting on that black tank top, generous with the view of his new figure, a result of intense hours of training for another movie. It wasn't as if you didn't like him either way, but the combo of letting the beard grow gave him a darker tone you weren't expecting to enjoy.

Another thing you wouldn't expect is his anterior baby boy face to try to get you back with sex, but this new him you didn't know, you only assumed, because that's what you wanted him to do, putting out the dripping agony between your legs.

He could have, probably or definitely, observed the way you clenched early this morning when he got back after jogging, dripping in sweat, taking his shirt off, entering the kitchen, a place supposed to be a neutral zone. 'Unintentionally.' he pressed his body against your back when reaching for a green juice on the fridge while you were trying to grab the chicken breast.

His fingers cupped your waist, and the warmth stayed there. The tingling, his back, and every little patch of skin walking away from the kitchen trapped into your mind. How did he get so many muscles?

With each and every little innocent touch, every other time you were sleeping on the only bed left on that chalé you rented, far away from the mess of New York City, and he would press his hardness against your bottom, became harder to redeem your choice of staying mad, and remembering to stay that way.

He should have known better than siding with your mom against you, especially in intimate conversations, but every now and then he got carried away by your mother's ways, inviting and manipulative.

Talking about inviting and manipulative, you watch John changing his route towards the bed where you were and walking towards the window on the right.

"Shit, it is going to pour out here."

You could curse.

Deciding the actually leave the book and getting up, you seek shelter from leaving the environment when a loud thunder strikes and the lights go out, stopping you in the hallway towards the small living room, shared with the kitchen.

The fragile moonlight coming through the windows was enough to, at least, guide you two close them when the wind started to get intense.

"Maybe I go should check the fuses?"

You didn't think he was serious, and he didn't seem to be when another violent thunder struck.

Was he checking if you still cared about him enough not to send him outside to get hit by lightning?

He closes the last window in the living room part.

"Are you insane?"

There is still a little bit more annoyance in your voice than you wanted.

The kitchen curtains start to be lifted like they are electrified, making you, in a stupid, impulsive way, run towards them and ignore the existence of the step up to the kitchen part.

Your knees hit the edge floor, as also did the palm of your hands, absorbing the fall.

"FUCK!"

"Baby, what happened?"

"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS FUCKING STEP HERE?"

"Fuck, I can't see a damn thing. Where the fuck did I put my phone?"

"Why do you need a phone?"

"For the flashlight."

"I'm five steps away from you, seriously."

You sit to start rubbing on your knees in a tentative to ease the pain.

"What if I trip on you." You hear his voice coming closer.

"I'll kill you, but I'm fine. I just need a minute." Another thunder strikes lighting up the room, and he spots you for a couple of seconds.

"Do you think you can close the windows?" You ask, hearing the sound of the trees being shaken by the wind.

"Fuck the windows."

There is the sound of his steps coming closer, and you know he crouched down by the vibration of your own body recognizing his, something that wasn't new, but got enhanced by the darkness you two were under, as also did his smell.

It isn't fair.

"John-"

"Shush, come here."

You feel like a child, putting up your arms around his shoulder, after some guidance from his own hands that afterward cupped down the sides of your breasts down towards your waist, and finally, he easily lifts you, keeping you locked against his chest. His hand makes a slow wandering on your back, and you found yourself subconsciously doing the same thing on his naked arms.

"Don't shus-"

He is quicker than your words, and you wouldn't complain, conquering your mouth as his in a battle you didn't want to win.

The wind whistles through the windows, but you could let it bring down the house if it meant John would continue to bite down your lips while moaning.

No underclothing could prevent him from reaching any part of you without ceremony, but he is slow in a way you have to take his hands and put it in on your breasts, making him chuckle.

"For someone who is mad at me."

He takes advantage of your needs, but two could play the game.

"I can stop if you want, and we can go back the way we were."

You bluff, placing all the convincing in your voice since he couldn't see your face, but you could tell he had that jerk smirk.

His answer came in the form of his fingers invading your pajama shorts, you foolishly try to move away, lazily, and his other hand puts you in place while you feel his thumb caressing your clit.

"Are you sure that is what you really want? You know, you just have to tell me."

His low deep tone fogs your brain completely, and he is quick to realize this fact, so he goes back to attacking your lying mouth, left with no other task than moaning for him, but your hands were eager and truthful. You conquer his moans by stroking him through the sweatpants.

"Oh...Fuck! I was starving for this. You really have no idea, looking at you every day, walking on this fucking see-through shirt practically all-day and denying me to touch you, to kiss you."

He bites your shoulder, releasing another moan when your hand reaches under his underwear.

"It is not like you weren't trying to torture me too, eye-fucking me all day, walking around the house semi-naked, dripping in sweat. I will never forgive how fucking hot you look with a beard. I thought I would hate it, and now I just want to feel it in the middle of my tights."

"So we think alike."

"I think we not gonna make it to the bed, and the couch is too small."

"Then floor it is."

Retrieving yours and his hands, he proceeds to grab you by the ass with both hands, lifting you.

Your legs know the way around his waist, and his mouth knows the way towards your breasts. Over the thin fabric t-shirt, he displays fragile bites while crouching down with you on his lap.

When your bottom touches the floor, carefully, you feel his hand on both sides of your body, ready to get rid of your shirt, and with your help, it comes out easily.

John hums in approval, and so does you when his hands are replaced with the warm wetness of his mouth over your nipples.

The summer rain starts to fall heavy outside while your back starts to rest down against the wood floor slowly.

With your spine flat on the floor, he decides to start to travel down with less routine than you expected, undressing you of your shorts.

John could be methodical, but it seems that he didn't lie about being ravenous for you, but he couldn't skip the foreplay, that would be the true sin.

He goes down towards your navel, and you couldn't decide if it was hotter with the absence of the lights or not; It did enhance each feeling, every swirl of his tongue, every wet sound and taste, but you craved to see his hazel eyes, burning with pure lust to see you squirming under his mouth.

You don't know who or what to thank when the moonlight persevered over whatever cloud blocking it, lighting up the room decently enough to let you capture, even if wouldn't last long, the glistening of his tongue entering you at the exact moment.

You wanted to open your eyes, tell him to look up at you, but you underestimated the power abstinence could have. Now you could really comprehend his lack of ceremony.

"Fuck! Shit... John!."

Through your closed eyelids, you welcome back the darkness, missing the opportunity given by the moon, getting clouded like your thoughts. She would have to be merciful when you could even miss your name. She would have to be more merciful than John, which adds a finger to his torture, curling it up inside you, moaning against your clit.

You coming undone was a matter of seconds.

He tries his best to put you in place when the orgasm hits, but he ruins it, retrieving his stokes and tongue at the peak.

"What the fuck!" You don't' even have the strength to get your torso up.

"Oh, you really thought you were getting away with being punished?"

He grabs your thighs, while you layed, spread open for him. You really could escape in the dark and lock him outside the bedroom to figure out the rest with his hand.

When the thought started to sound like a plan you find the strength needed to get up at least your torso, but with your rough movements, he quickly catches up, gripping hard on your thighs and bringing forward towards his lap.

You figured he waited for you to leave since he was already in the position to land you on top of his hardness, as you were.

"You son of b-."

He grabs your ass, forcing it down on him, causing an inevitable moan to occur since you were already sensitive.

"Be a good girl for me, and I will compensate you, baby. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you this so many times. It is like you want me to punish you."

The moon now betrays you, showing up in a time you were vulnerable, letting him picture your face while your body melted in his arms, and all of him that was so fucking inviting and undeniable.

"Do what you want with me."

With his eyes boring into yours, John lays you down, proceeding to get out of his remaining clothes completely. You couldn't believe how insanely good he looked; the moonlight could be fooling you.

Watching his cock pops out of the underwear, you could feel the wet agony forming between your legs all over again, like the heavy rain outside.

There isn't another word when the connection of your eyes was held strong, until he inclined forward, placing himself where he belonged, inside you, and your vision got compromised as he merciless pounded his pelvis against yours.

"Christ!"

He growls like an animal, just from being inside of you.

"Make it last, Krasinski."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles.

Getting a better position with his arms on the sides of your head, he places one under your neck for comfort.

Your legs wrapped around his waist deepened his movements, and soon he was hitting places unknown to you.

"Oh... fuck, that's it right there, don't stop."

You couldn't control, taking advantage of the rain, muffling your pleadings, and also did he, what ironically made you mad at the rain.

He wasn't much vocal, and it didn't bother you till now when his moans were eating your brain out from logic.

"God, you are getting wetter by the second." He says, then kisses your lips before closing his eyes, increasing the strokes. "Is it cause you are now how you are supposed to be? Full of me, and only me."

Now you were the one hungry for his mouth, grabbing on his beard slightly hard to bring towards your face. His tongue is avid, his free hand goes towards your clit, and it's too much.

His mouth parts from yours.

"Cum on my dick, baby, cum for me so I can fill you up like you want me to."

You cry it out, feeling every cell of your body ready to obey him, to please him, and it doesn't take too long when your legs started to shake, and this time he goes all the way with it, letting to lose a bit of movement only when his own orgasm reached. You kiss him, deeply, while he still thrust into you randomly.

His moans vibrating in your mouth, till he quiets down, parting the kiss.

He smirked at you.

"Do you remember when you told me that fucking during a rainstorm was your fantasy?"

#john krasinski #john krasinski imagine #john krasinskixreader #imagine #+18

72 notes · View notes

midnxghtsunwrites · 3 years

Text

GROUNDED

PAIRING —

william miller x black reader

SUMMARY —

You and Will have been through too much for you to abandon him at his darkest hour.

WARNINGS —

angst, fluff

"Baby, I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet as you rubbed the back of William's hand. His skin is rough and scarred against the pad of your thumb — a symbol of the hardships he's endured both during his service and after.

You'd stuck by his side all those years ago when he was in the brigade commandeered by Tom "Redfly" Davis. They were close — damn, you were all close. You were practically Tess's aunt, showing up at every birthday party and barbecue before Tom's divorce made way.

The years you've been with Will gave you clarity — into his struggle with PTSD and the emotional impact serving as a Special Force Operative had on him. He even taught you a thing or two, defense-wise, before he was caught in a situation in your local Publix — his arm wrapped around another man's throat because he hadn't moved his cart. That lead you to jump on his back and wrangle him back to reality.

He's a soldier in every sense of the word.

He'd gotten better after that incident — attending therapy sessions and doing more public speaking at military bases. It was better to keep his mind off of the terror and trauma from his years of fighting in a war.

He was doing better. And then Santiago just had to come along and convince him to join him for one last ride. Of course, you couldn't do much but support him — that's all he ever asked for. Your love and support. And you were hesitant to give it to him.

But, you did.

And he left for two weeks and returned with a bullet wound — another scar added to his shelf of souvenirs — and a dead captain.

The first night he came back was spent on the beachfront of your home, unable to hide the tears any longer. That night, he slept with his head over your heart, almost as if to make sure it was still beating.

You gave him his space for three days — to get his bearings and a handle on life.

You weren't surprised when he gathered you up one day and drove you to your spot. It was where you had your first date however many years ago — he'd paid for the meal and was a proper gentleman. Of course, you just had to give him your number and hope for the best. Immediately, you knew he was drawn back.

He'd just finished his first tour and the trauma was as strong as it was present — you didn't expect to get a call back after he dropped you home. You were at work when he did, though.

From then on, you and Will had been connected in a way no one really understood. But, it wasn't for them to understand. It's like a well-kept secret between two lovers.

Will's eyes are trained on your dainty fingers as you trace jagged waves along his tainted skin. Your touch could calm a storm, he always tells you. His back presses against the wall of the restaurant, a tattooed arm resting atop the back of his seat, and his other arm stretched across the cold metal table towards you.

Your fingers run up the inside of his wrist and trails the ink in his skin. It's his Force tattoo, faded against his fair skin from years of wearing it as a badge of honor. This isn't his only tattoo.

Just on his other arm is a tribute to a fallen soldier from his first tour. They were the closest friends each other had before Benny decided to join the army as well. It was by a miracle that he was put into the same regiment as his brother.

It didn't seem like much of a miracle when William's friend was blown to pieces on the field.

William lazily tips the neck of his beer bottle to his mouth as he shifts his gaze to the crease between your eyebrows — one that only appears when you're concentrated.

You're so taken with his marred skin littered with healed wounds that you jump slightly when he lifts his hand to take a hold of your own, removing your fingers from his forearm.

He raises your connected fingers and presses it to his lips. Your lips form a pout when you see the tears gathering in his eyes. As he draws your hand away, his gaze transfers to the bare ring finger on your left hand.

"I love you." He proclaims, as he rubs your ring metacarpal, "And I want to thank you for being patient with me. I know..." He sighs as he tries to find the right words to say. Finally, "I know it hasn't been easy being with someone so broken."

You want to stop him. You want to tell him that relationships aren't always easy. You want to tell him that he's not broken, just in pain. You want to tell him that you love him too. So much that it hurts.

But you don't. You wait for him to express his feelings. As long as you have to.

"You've been there for me, Y/N — even when no one else has. You've been helping me for so long that I feel..." He can't continue, instead choosing to look down at your connected hands.

Your finger rubs against his as you realize this, "It's okay, Will. You know you can talk to me."

Your words give him that gentle push — "I feel like I'm keeping you from your life, Y/N. You've had to deal with my trauma and I've been ignoring you and your feelings. I don't want to do that to you, baby. Not anymore. I wanna take care of you instead of it being the other way around."

Y/C/E meet blue as you lean back in interest. Your boyfriend couldn't be more wrong about how he thinks you feel. He's held you back from nothing — when you asked him to move to a new neighborhood, he packed up your bags and boxes and loaded the moving truck; when you asked him to stick by you when you went back to school, he helped you study and ace all off your exams to receive your degree; when you asked him to be there for you, he was. And you know he always will be.

With this in mind, you slide out of your side of the booth, your hand still intertwined with his. He watches you, carefully as you step off the platform on your side before stepping up on his. His legs are stretched along the seat, prompting you to plop yourself right down on his lap. His beautiful blue eyes stare up at you.

Instinctively, he plants his beer on the table and snakes his arms around your waist, keeping you in place. You can feel the bulge of his crotch on the right side of your thigh but restrain yourself — now isn't the time.

"You see that?" Your right hand presses against his chest while your left hand finds its place on his strong arm, right above his military tattoo. You refer to his instinct to hold you. "That is you taking care of me. That is you loving me more than I deserve. Baby," You search his eyes, his pupils dilating as he's overtaken with love, "You're my life. Don't think you've been ignoring me, Will. We just had to reduce that pain you've been living with. Because I'm not happy if you're not happy."

Reaching an arm around, you take his hand into yours and pulls it from your waist. His hand falls limp as he watches you draw him towards you. You rest the palm of his hand on your chest, right above your beating heart.

At the feeling of the organ beating against your chest, Will is brought back to earth. You keep him grounded and that's all he could ever ask of you.

"This is yours, Will. You own it. We've been through too much for you not to."

As you watch the thoughts swirl behind his expressive eyes, you're confused when he pulls his hand away from you. He reaches into his jeans pocket and emerges with a clasped fist. Hovering over the table palm down, he opens his hand and brings your attention to the rose gold ring — a significant contrast from the wooden surface it rests on.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart is pounding against your ribcage.

He looks at it for a moment before tilting his head towards you, "Marry me."

"Will..."

"It’s been a long time coming, Y/N. We've been together for eight years — which I'm sure is seven years longer than what you wanted.”

He loves you, ardently, and now he finds the strength he was searching desperately for just the other day. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. With every fragmented piece of me that you've managed to put back together. And I'm forever grateful that you came into my life when I least expected you, but most needed you."

Now it's your turn for your heart to melt — you're growing weak at his words, eyes filling slowly with tears.

His eyes remain on you as you crane your neck to ogle the engagement band on the table. The center is oval shaped and sparkling under the dim lighting of the restaurant. It's beautiful, perfect even — more than you could've asked for.

He is more than you could've asked for.

"I'm done with this shit, babe." Will says as he sees an indecipherable look in your eye. Overthinking leads him to believe that you have doubts about his minimalistic proposal, "I'm completely retired. It's just us — no Pope, no Fish, no Benny, no —" He stops himself before he can say the name.

It's too soon.

The silence between you two is deafening as you're frozen in your spot.

All you can seem to release is his name — it's the only word on your tongue. The only sound you could muster.

He brushes a kinky curl from your forehead and stares up at you, awaiting an answer. Everything in you tells you to speak. To do something — anything.

It's only when Will's grip loosens around your waist that you're snapped back into reality. You'd only dreamed for this moment and now that it's here, your brain seemed to be malfunctioning. Instead of opening your mouth, you reach forward and with your index finger and thumb, you lift the beautiful ring from the table.

"Yes." The word is so quiet that you didn't even realize you said it. Speak up. "Yes, I'll marry you, Will. Christ, you didn't even have to ask."

This has to be the first time he's smiled since he came home. It's bright and amazing and nostalgic. White teeth wink at you as he wastes no time taking the ring from your fingers and sliding it on your digit, his eyes seeming to reflect the sparkle of the engagement band.

The kiss you two share is nothing grandiose. Your kisses rarely are — but they still hold a level of sensuality and passion that many can just wish for. Will runs his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing it in his warm beer-flavored mouth. You don't mind — he has good taste in alcohol.

For a moment, you two forget that you're in a public space. One where patrons are making their exit, but public nonetheless. You pull away when you feel the tears gather in your eyes. You love this man with your heart, mind, and soul — every part of you is overwhelmed with a wave of fervent endearment.

"Damn, I love you." Will exhales as he draws you into a homely embrace.

general taglist : @gwenspacy @dollyhoess @complacentviawattpad @rosenoirwrites @random-ficreader23 @kyla-queen

let me know if you'd like to join my general taglist! feel free to like, reblog, and comment! also, my asks are open — and im taking requests!

#charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam x black reader #william miller imagine #william miller x black reader #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier

164 notes · View notes

everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ GETTING IN TROUBLE ❜

with Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza.

Request: Tranq reaction to his girlfriend sassing him?

BY ANON

Word count: about 1k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

The crowd placed around the Mayans' ring suddenly stays silent. Your boyfriend is sweating, breathing fast and almost blooding by his nose and mouth inside of it, just like Ibarra. He's confused at first, watching you turn into the Devil as you walk towards the door to open it.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, HANK?”

He doesn't understand what it's happening. You have been together for the last year and tomorrow you have an important meeting. The most important one. And you asked him to not get into trouble, to not drink too much and to look fresh than ever. But looks like he didn't care a shit.

“My fucking parents are coming tomorrow to meet you!” You yell at him.

Ibarre steps out of the ring terrified, running away from you. No one would want to be in Tranq's shoes right now. Spitting the red liquid from his lip, he cleans them with the back of his right hand, about to say something.

“I asked you for just one damn thing! One fucking thing!” Furiously gesticulating with your forefinger raised in air, you point at him with every word uttered. “Do you remember how fucking important was for you to introduce me to… all these assholes, ah? They're my fucking family and you shitted on your promise. So, you know what? Keep fucking fighting. Ask one of these… fucking bitches to clean you up. And enjoy sleeping alone. I'm fucking done with you”.

“Hey, list—”.

“NO! There's no fucking listen anymore, Hank”. You take a step back, lifting up your hands to make him stop.

God knows how much you love the Mayans MC, but right now you just want to burn it down.

“If meeting my family isn't important to you, then, I'm not either”. Licking your lips as soon as the tears flow over them, you turn around to get out from the ring.

“Sweetheart…” Bishop calls you, making you face him.

“I asked you… I begged you to not let him get in trouble, Obispo. Letting him fight was one of the things you should avoid. And you didn't. So, don't fucking call me sweetheart again, 'cause I'm not your fucking sweetheart”.

Taza stops your boyfriend when he tries to catch you outside the ring, while you walk through the hallway made between the Mayans to leave the clubhouse. With a sorrow installed within your chest, you unlock your car to step in and turn on the engine and drive to your small flat. Once there you turn off your phone and change your clothes for a baggy shirt to tuck into bed.

Appearing in the restaurant alone confuses your parents, who get up from their seats to welcome you with a tight hug.

“Sorry, Hank was busy with the scrapyard”. You whisper puckering your lips.

They know you're lying, but they don't say anything. Sitting in front of them, close to the empty chair, you hold the menu to have a look in silence. You're ashamed. But you're more hurt than anything, because you were so excited to introduce him to your mom and your dad. You wanted to show them that he's a good man, that he takes care of you better than anyone. But he shitted on it.

“Sorry, I'm late”.

Raising your eyes, you find your boyfriend standing up with a hand on your back, leaning to kiss your cheek. He looks fresh. Probably, Taza used some of his concoctions to help him. Your parents seem delighted that he finally came, happily introducing themselves with kisses and hugs. You just smile somewhat forcefully, when he sits by your side and places one of his tattooed arms over your shoulders, kissing your cheek again. Pulling a lock of hair behind your ear, you turn quietly towards him, while your parents argue about their dishes.

“I'm so sorry”. He whispers, visibly regretting what happened last night.

“We will talk later”. It's the only thing you say, before pretending that everything is going okay.

Suddenly closing the door from your apartment, you turn at him a little bit furious. And he's ready to take the heat.

“I told you to not come”. You hiss trying to keep calm.

“I said I'm sorry”. Resting his back against the wall, he crosses both arms over his chest.

“I don't care if you are sorry or not, Hank. You didn't keep your promise”.

“You asked me to look fresh, and don't do I, ah?”

“Are you fucking punking me? Seriously?”

Clicking his tongue, the man rolls his eyes standing up from the wall.

“Listen…”

“Fuck, no! Pick up your things and leave my house. Right now, Hank! I'm done with all these… club's dogfights for fun, and that you're incapable of keeping your promises…”

“I'm not gonna leave you after sassing me like you did last night, like no one has done before”. He's smirking at you with a proud smile on his lips. “You're the one for me, my other half, the only one who is brave enough to kick my ass”.

Puckering your lips and frowning, you kill him with your gaze, watching your the Mayan coming closer dangerously.

“Stop…” You demand him, not pretty convinced that you want him to stop. “Hank, stop…”

“Fuck, you looked so fucking angry, scaring the shit outta everybody around you… You should have watched the guys after you left. Bishop was shaking. The fucking prospect hidden in case you were coming”. His laughs flood the living room, while he cups your cheek onto his huge and rough hands. “And I… damn… I was really terrified”.

“Really?” You mumble trying to not laugh in the meantime he pecks your lips once and again.

“Fucking terrified hearing you yelling at me, so fucking enraged”. He nods slightly. “That was the moment I knew I wanted to marry you and spend my whole life with you, mi amor”.

“Really…?” You ask again, raising up your hands to his chest covered by a soft black flannel shirt. Your heart is about to suddenly stop.

“Really”.

Urging you to jump into him, with his arms interlaced under your ass, you surround his waist with both legs.

“Be my wife, mi amor. Please”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #hank tranq loza #hank tranq loza x reader #tranq loza #tranq loza x reader

193 notes · View notes

timextoxhajima · 4 years

Text

Playlist Feels

Member: Seonghwa

Genre: angst, *TW* suicidal thoughts, self harm, really fucking depressing shit because i'm going through a rough time right now

Word Count: 1.2k

[wrote this at: 120720 3.10am]

you were staring out into the open sea, listening to the waves lap against the shore, the lack of citylights allowing the stars above you to shine their brightness. strangely enough, you couldn't really tell the stars apart. your tears were clogging your vision and there was nothing but everything running through your head.

you look down, and gravity helped pull your tears to the concrete ground. Beyond that was the sand, and you would've totally drowned yourself in the fine, coarse grains of earth if you knew your mother would flip out when you got home.

You can’t say life has been mean to you, but neither could you convince yourself that life has been kind to you.

you got into a fight with your mom, because she never really understood how your mind functioned. it had been 8 long years since you've been aware that your mental health had been deteriorating. At 13, you started to realise that you were overthinking way more than others your age. At 14, you started drawing on your wrists, forearms and thighs. From then on, though you've been clean for most of the duration, not a single day passed that you don't worry about your mental health.

The difficult part of all this was that your mother could never understand it. you had been heartbroken on more than one occasion, over a boy who has broken your heart, over things you shouldn't have done when in a relationship. Over things you knew your mother would not tolerate. So, your mother knew nearly nothing about your love life. The bulk of why your mental health was deteriorating was because of your love life.

You could never tell your mother what happened. She thinks your first kiss was at 19, when it was at 14. She thinks you're still a virgin, when you've lost it to someone who said "nobody would love you like i do, especially with your mental health in this state".

that relationship dealt the biggest blow to your will to love, to your will to live. tonight, your mother chose to nitpick on you. you've been sleeping at least eight hours a day, and today you just happened to doze off on the couch outside when your mother was around.

now, she apparently thinks that sleeping too much is a problem. your heart hurts, but you couldn't possibly tell her you were tired of life. you were tired of being alive. sleep was just a temporary way out.

You found yourself sneaking out of the house when the sun was way past down the buildings, getting an uber to the nearest beach hoping for some peace and quiet.

your heart was racing, your palms were sweating, the wind was blowing your hair messily around your face and you could feel the mucus being dragged down your philtrum. Your chest was being locked in a cage that slowly compressed into itself, and you felt your head throb. You weren't sure if it was because you were crying too hard, or if you were having a panic attack.

Who cares anyway?

you could hear yourself whining and sobbing, the blood rushing to your head while you hung it low, your arms wrapped around your knees. you never felt so alone before.

"hey."

you huffed and looked away from the source of the call.

"are you alright?"

you grit your teeth, the sobs not giving you any mercy as they washed through your throat and nostrils, tears still streaming down your cheeks and staining your shirt.

"the hell do you want, seonghwa?" you croaked. The crying had turned your throat dry and coarse, though coated with mucus and phlegm. You heard the shuffle of his shoes before he sat down next to you, his legs dangling off the edge and his hands clasped together between his thighs.

"thought i'd find you here." He says so quietly, it was almost a whisper.

"huh," you manage a scoff, your sobs and hiccups slowing down as you still refused to look at him. "guess this isn't a very good hideout."

You hear seonghwa give a small laugh through his nose.

"i know you're hurting, and i know there isn't much that i can do for you because i don't exactly know what you've gone through," he says, soft enough to make you feel like you weren't in a public space, but loud enough so you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "But i need you to talk to me if you need anything. not just physically, but if you need to cry, if you need to talk, if you need someone to be there for you."

you frown, trying your best not to let those words hit you in the gut. You've lost count of how many people have said those words to you, only for them to turn their back on you and walk away, thinking that your happy days were enough to tell them you were recovered.

"please. i know you're thinking 'nobody needs me', but i need you to know that i need you."

you gulp away the urge to burst into sobs again. familiar words, said by a different person. You were starting to wonder if this was just the textbook way of people trying to convince you out of your shitty mental state.

"okay, so don't believe me," seonghwa was now looking at you. "but know that if you choose to leave, people will know. those who care will be at your funeral, and those who care will spend days and nights crying about you, thinking about why they didn't see the signs, thinking about why they didn't do enough, and it pisses you off, i know that. but you've been through so much, and you still want to learn so much more. what about those nights you talked to me about travelling? About meeting new people? About helping those who need it?"

your mind flashes white, throwing you back a few months to seonghwa's birthday party when the both of you managed to find time and space to be alone. seonghwa had been your friend for four years now, and it would be a lie to say that he wasn't one of the most important people in your life right now. In fact, you could say he was one of the reasons why you are still alive.

"i know that you are already aware about what to do with your life, so please... make use of that motivation. That drive to reach your goal. Not many people have that."

you finally turn and look at him, your nosr turning sour again as you lock eyes with him. Seonghwa's dark hair framed his eyes perfectly, and his smile gave you more warmth than anybody had ever done in the last few years or so. looking at his face and him being here was enough to push you over the edge again. Your face contorted into an ugly mess, and strange sounds began spewing out from between your lips; you were sure you heard your own heart crack under pressure.

seonghwa shot you a look of pity as his eyes filled with pain. he wrapped his arms around you and buried your head in his neck, his palm gently patting the crown of your head as you let it all out. all the pain, the hatred for life, the loss of will to live, every strand of hopelessness that ran through your veins.

"It'll be alright. i promise. as long as i'm here, you will be alright."

#timetohajima #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #angst #depression #pain #tw suicide #tw self harm #ateez #ateez imagine #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa scenario #playlistfeels #Spotify #timetohajima playlist feels

106 notes · View notes

revchainsaw · 3 years

Text

Bumblebee (2018)

Good Evening worshippers, and welcome! Today the Cult of Cult goes a little more mainstream than usual. It's been a while since i've tackled a big Hollywood superhero film. But I do believe that these sorts of films will be remembered fondly my small groups of people in the future, especially the smaller films that are being overshadowed by the big bad MCU, films like 2018s Bumblebee.

The Messsage

Bumblebee was originally released as a prequel to the Transformers franchise that had started all the way back in 2007. However, reboots had really hit the market as a way to breath new life into struggling franchises, and the Transformers series had already gone to just about every absurd extreme you could imagine. No changes were made to the movie as it was released, but with it's more childish and heartfelt tone, and a new aesthetic that was softer, smoother, and all around just generally more pleasing to the eye, I think it was a wise choice to rebrand Bumblebee as a new beginning.

Our story is of two friends from two very different worlds and how they came together. Our first character is Bumblebee, then known as B- number sign/it doesn't really matter. Not yet Bumblebee is a soldier set with securing a safe location for the Autobots to regroup and make their home as they suffer a pretty serious defeat on cybertron at the hands of the tyrannical Decepticons. Optimus Prime, here again voiced by Peter Cullen and looking so much more like himself, assigns this task to Bumblebee promising him that they will meet him there when the time comes. Then Optimus fucks off for the rest of the run time making way for our little hero.

Bumblebee lands on Earth and is immediately set upon by John Cena and his military goon squad. It probably would have been wise for Bumblebee to avoid John Cena but in his defense, he couldn't see him. Hardy har har. In his attempt to flee his voice box is damaged, he seeks sanctuary by taking the form of a run down little VW bug, and suffers from amnesia.

Then we have Charlie. Charlie is not like other girls. She likes cars, all the retro music, which wasn't retro when the movie takes place, so I'm supposed to just think she's a rocker but it kinda seems like she'll listen to just about anything. I think in 2018 liking Motorhead and The Smiths (who are used ad nauseum in this movie) is perfectly common, but I feel like in the 80s that was a much different and much older attitude to take.

Anyway Charlie's poor family lives in a super fucking nice house and are poor because the dialogue keeps insisting they are so it must be true despite all the shit they have that actually poor people would sell blood and teeth to attain, but hell, this is Hollywood and Hollywood poor is like regular people upper middle class. Charlies family is so poor that instead of giving her a one time graduation/birthday present to buy a part for a car she already has, they just give her a moped, She also spends all her time at a pull apart where the manager (who might be her uncle that wasn't super clear) is willing to just give her a Volkswagen so I don't understand why she didn't already have the project car up and running. Whatever, it's a plot contrivance. All you need to know is that Charlie is tenacious and hard around the edges cuz her dad is dead and she's not yet mature enough to process that in a healthy way. Maybe her character arch will teach her to let others in, we'll have to find out.

There's also a wacky nerd named Memo, and some bad guys, and John Cena. They are all also pretty archetypal and contrived and don't really do anything of note that isn't just filling a beat that this kind of movie needs to walk. Charlie starts Bumblebee up, discovers he's a robot and the two begin to bond. Charlie learns to make a friend, and bumblebee is learning about himself. They get into hijinks and get revenge on a bully girl who makes Regina George look like a saint, she pretty much only picks on Charlie exclusively for having a dead dad.

The moment Bumblebee is woken back up, some technology goof em up that both he and Charlie are unaware of brings two Decepticon baddies into the picture. I don't remember their names, but since I love The Venture Brothers let's say they can be "Jet Boy and Jet Girl". Jet Boy and Jet Girl are sometimes cars, sometimes various flying military vehicles, and they make friends with the deep state and plan to get all the adrenochrome from all the orphans, or just to go find Bumblebee and beat his ass good cuz their bad guys. Let me tell y'all though, Jet Boy and Jet Girl are so bad that they don't even care that the government is listening when they reveal that they are planning on bringing a Decepticon Invasion and after they rough up Bumblebee real good they are going to destroy all life on this planet. So they start by killing a military scientist.

John Cena is after Bumblebee and he's homies with Jet Boy and Jet Girl until the military scientist butt dials him and he hears the evil plan. John Cena goes from heel to face and helps Bumblebee and Charlie save the day. It's a giant CG clusterfuck climax a la any superhero film in the last 10 years and I basically stopped watching. BumbleBee pulls a Hellraiser on Jet Boy, and then he hits Jet Girl with a freaking boat. Charlie uses her diving skills do dive down and save him, but he's a Giant Robot and he was okay and it was literally pointless for her to to except as a way to show that her character has completed her arch by doing the thing that was representative of her connection with her lost father.

Bumblebee turns into the Camaro from the first movie, meets up with Optimus prime, and the stage is set for this prequel to squeeze more prequels out. So it wasn't very creative, but was it bad? Let's find out.

Please Stand to receive the Benediction.

Best Aspect: Transform the Franchise

Bumblebee was directed by Travis Knight of Laika fame and it shows. This movie marks a stylistic change in the transformers franchise, as in it doesn't look like utter dog shit, but it also represents in many ways a tonal shift. It does hold on to a lot of gross sleaze that has unfortunately been forcibly jammed into the DNA of the franchise but it also attempts to be a more heartfelt entry. The characters of Bumblebee might all be sort of a waste of time, but at least they are doing something with emotions, even if the emotions of the characters are only explored as deeply as a children's cartoon I'm glad they are there. In the previous installments the only thing the characters did between running from action piece to seizure inducing action piece was drool over underage girls like a bunch of chimpanzees at the facility where they test experimental E.D. meds. It was nice to see that at least somewhat tampered. This transformers movie feels more like it's for kids and young teenagers, and strangely that more friendly tone makes for a much less juvenile product.

Worst Aspect: Remember I Love the 80s from the 2000s

I hope you really like Stranger Things. I do, but because Stranger Things was so successful it' s going to be everywhere. Not true Stranger Things just 80s nostalgia porn. This 80s nostalgia is going to be forced on you whether you like it or not, and it's not going to be fun. It's gonna be in your shows, in your music, in your Sunday like Bacon in 2010. It's that or Marvel Franchise Brand Whedonisms. Bumblebee is that brave movie that says, "Why not both?" It would seem fitting that a property as quintessentially 80s as Transformers should feel completely comfortable doing a period piece set in the 80's but it's so fucking half hearted it's depressing. It wasn't done to appreciate the roots of the IP, it was done to cash in on a trend and it feels it. All they did was throw up a date and insufferably force an 80s soundtrack down your throat as if that was enough to convince you that this movie needed to be set during this time. Other than that you could have told me this film was set in 2007 and I couldn't tell you any different.

Best Character: Charlie's an Angel

I liked Charlie. Sure her Arc is predictable, her taste is dumb, and she isn't exactly a master of her own destiny to any degree. But at least she is a woman in a transformers movie who's got something going on. Sure she's defined entirely by grief, but that sure is better than pretending that being able to work on cars is a feminist character trait instead of a weird fetish thing. They certainly do that thing with Charlie, but at least it's not the only thing they throw at the wall. Bumblebee is by no means out of the woods in this department, but it garners a lot of goodwill for trying. Like a racist uncle who just started his journey out of ignorance, but hasn't yet realized he has to stop asking mortifying questions to the barista at Starbucks. Okay, maybe that's an extreme metaphor. I'm saying that perhaps Charlie is not a great character but she's a great character for a Transfomers movie.

Worst Character: It's JOOOOHHHNNNN CEEEENA!!!!

Why is John Cena in this movie? I don't hate the guy, but his character seems pointless. You could remove him from the movie completely and replace him with any one of the random military goons at any point and it changes nothing. What was with that dumb salute at the end? It seems like they put him in this movie in post and it was just to pump up cast list. I wish he was given anything to work with. I can't remember his characters name, and it's not like John Cena did a bad job, I was just annoyed every time they kept giving him hero shots. I felt like I was watching a trailer for a different movie.

Best Actor: Optimal Primo!

Every time Peter Cullen speaks I want to listen. There's a reason they haven't had Chris Pratt or somebody with a bigger name come in and take over the role at this point. He's why the audience keep coming back. Peter Cullen IS Optimus Prime, and there's no changing that. He also wins twice. He's the best actor in the movie AND he's barely in the movie. Good call Peter.

Worst Actor: Mean Girls 2, Meaner and Girlier

I don't want to be cruel so I'm not going to go into to much detail, but there's an actress in this film who's performance is so mustache twirlingly evil and stupid that it ruined my suspension of disbelief when i knew going in that i was about to endure a 2 hour toy commercial about robots that turn into cars. Beldar Conehead was a more convincing human being than Tina.

Best Effect: Goo Be Gone

I really appreciated when the bad guys shot the government nerd into a blast of snot. That was pretty fun for me. Best part of the movie hands down.

Worst Effect: Live Action?

Bumblebee is a cartoon. It's a great looking cartoon but it doesn't sell itself that way. If we were doing a Roger Rabbit thing I'd have no gripes. However, I think CG is just getting worse. I'm criticizing this and it's still lightyears better than the previous entry's on the franchise. No transformation or fight sequence in Bumble Bee had me straining to make sense of what I was looking at. I think it was a great idea to start using some basic shapes and outlines to these characters, and return somewhat to their 80s designs. But at certain points, especially when there were no humans in the shot, i was pretty convinced I was watching Clone Wars. There may not be anyway around this, as the Transformers concept might not be able to be pulled off in any more effective manner. It's a minor gripe, but I just didn't think it looked like anything other than a very expensive cartoon, and in this franchise that's a compliment, because it least it looked like SOMETHING!

Best Scene: Space Opera

I am not a Transformers fan. I missed the boat on the cartoon as a kid. I would sometimes catch it at friends houses but I was more into Batman, Star Wars, and Ninja Turtles. By the time I came onto the scene the world had moved on to Beast Wars. I did one day arbitrarily decide that my favorite Transformer was Sound Wave. He looked great in this. I am a big fan of the return to form with a lot of the character designs in this. They really did keep the things that worked from the other adaptations, and they are steadily removing the things that didn't. For this reason, the scenes on Cybertron, particularly the battle with Soundwave (i prefer for personal reasons) looked great and were exciting to watch. I remember thinking Cybertron used to look like a Marilyn Manson shot a music video from inside to dumpster. This is so much better.

Worst Scene: Blocking the Box

There's a scene in Bumblebee where Charlie's family decides the best way to save their daughter was to cause a pile up of vehicles in an intersection, and it's pure contrived writing that saved any character in that sequence from being killed in a horrific traffic accident. It was stupid, played for laughs, and it wasn't exciting as much as it was anxiety inducing. I also thought that there was no reason the covert military group covering up extraterrestrial life wouldn't just disappear this family of fucking morons in their little piece of shit car. The logic of the scene was just so childish like, "No they won't hit me, I'm a good person."

Summary

Bumblebee may be remembered fondly in a decade. I think especially if the Transformers franchise were to end here. It didn't get the publicity of the other films, and that really is a shame. For my money, this was the best Transformers movie so far. I was very tempted to give Bumblebee a C, it does just enough to right what was wrong from the other movies to make me appreciate all that work. This movie has heart, and if you are at all into Transformers then l think you should see it. It's still pretty stupid, and pretty basic. It's not offering anything new to the genre, and it feels like a commercial for more movies. I really wish we could just get movies that want to tell a story. I thought it over and decided that it wasn't fair not to grade Bumblebee on it's own merits. Bumblebee is substantially better than the films that preceded it, but that's not saying a lot, when the films that preceded it are joyless exercises in self abuse.

Overall Grade: D

#Transformers #Bumblebee #Optimus Prime #Action #Adventure #Car #Super Hero #Robot #Scifi #Grade D #D #Grade: D #2018 #2010s #(D)

4 notes · View notes

mssjynx · 4 years

Note

1, 6, 20 for Krii7y? Extra points if they end up actually dating at the end of it, but it isn't needed :')

krii7y drabble | 1. roommates!au | 6. fake dating | 20. “it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you”

a/n; this one is a little better i think..

John’s arm felt too perfect around Jaren’s waist. John’s hand felt too perfect resting on his hip. John felt too perfect next to Jaren, holding him and looking at him as if he was worth everything.

He really just wished John was more to him than his roommate.

And was it so bad for him to pretend that he was, for just one day?

It was his cousin’s wedding whose invite he’d received only six months ago, and when he’d received an obnoxious “You aren’t still single, are you?” text from his sister, he’d declared that he actually had a boyfriend.

Which he didn’t.

So, after weeks of hyping himself up, he asked his roommate to come with him and pretend to be his date. John had agreed, because he was the best friend Jaren could have ever asked to live with.

In his head, he thought it’d be easy as pie. But it had been a few years since he had been surrounded by his whole family and then some, and he’d forgotten just how intrusive they always had been.

“So where’d you take him for your first date, John?” Jaren’s sister was as judgemental as ever, watching the two of them with a mixture of dislike and curiosity. She was two years younger than Jaren and youngest child syndrome hadn’t avoided her.

No matter how badly she got along with her brother, she was always too nosy to stay out of his business.

Though there was never any reason for Jaren to worry in the first place, because John gave a charming smile and pulled him closer, pressing his cheek to the younger man’s temple. “To the Samhain Festival,” he said with confidence that made Jaren flush. And perhaps he was so confident because they had gone to the festival together, but as far as Jaren knew it hadn’t been a date. “I bought us tickets and watched him fail at all those stupid circus games that are always rigged. I bought him a bear in the end to cheer him up-”

Jaren turned on his heels, eyes wide in shock as he forgot about his sister. “What!?” he demanded and John blinked, before realisation washed over his face. A sheepish smile pulled at his mouth and Jaren glared. “You told me you won that bear!” Jaren’s betrayal was obvious and if his sister’s girlfriend’s giggles were any indication; the little quarrel they started was ridiculously domestic.

But of course they would be domestic; they lived together after all.

“Well, I might have been showing off,” John admitted and Jaren scoffed, folding his arms and turning away from his fake boyfriend. “But you love that bear!” he defended and Jaren ignored the hands that crept over his hips and the chest that pressed to his back.

“Loved,” he corrected and felt his cheeks heat when John nuzzled his nose into Jaren’s hair behind his ear.

The touch was extremely intimate, and the feelings that Jaren had always harboured for John were rearing their heads at the attention. He had to shove them down with a step away, playing up his stubborn act as an excuse to get a grip on himself.

It didn’t help that John only grabbed him by the hips and spun him around, meeting Jaren’s pout with a sweet smile. Jaren’s forehead bumped into John’s quite roughly but the leap in his heart was all he could focus on.

The tease in John’s eyes vanished all too quickly and something sincere fell in its place that kicked Jaren’s fight or flight instinct in. When those pretty eyes fell to Jaren’s mouth, he dropped all care for the image they were upholding, turning on his heel and practically ripping himself out of John’s hold on him.

He ran, bee-lining for the bathrooms only to duck around the back and quickly lose himself in the garden of flowers and beautiful plants. He was thankful for the maze-like layout that the venue had, happy to be out of the view of prying eyes and away from John’s touch.

For years, he’d been handling his feelings for the man. They would joke and tease, flirt and insult- but anything that Jaren might have hoped was between them, he knew was only a projection of his own desires. He had mastered the art of locking his heart away and for that reason, he was sure this one day wouldn’t cause them any trouble.

John could hold him and laugh against him, lean into him and smile at him, talk about him as if they were together and pretend that they were in love. Looking back at it all as Jaren took a seat on the stone path, it was all too foolish.

And it was going to ruin everything between them.

He covered his face with his hands, leaning back against a pillar with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” were the words that drew him attention and he met John’s face with confused embarrassment.

“Sorry?” he asked and the other man seemed to find it difficult to meet Jaren’s eyes. John shoved his hands deep into his pockets and his shoulders were hunched in a way that made Jaren feel he was trying to close himself off.

It made something unpleasant twist in his stomach.

When John shrugged, his eyes were on the little flowers growing between the cracks in the path. “I was being too forward and I shouldn’t have pushed you. I won’t kiss you if you don’t want that,” he said and Jaren had to hide his red face in his hands again as he laughed.

Though his humour didn’t reach his tongue and the dry sound made him flinch. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I asked you to do this for me and I’m the one who’s overreacting. You’re just playing the part,” he said simply and the words felt bitter as they bit at his throat.

He heard John move but didn’t lift his head again until the slight shuffle of movement in front of him caught his curiosity. When he peeked through his fingers, John had sat himself cross-legged in front of him, cool gaze on him though something unreadable lingered there.

Jaren took a deep breath and let his hands fall away.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said and Jaren busied himself with pulling weeds from the dirt.

“You didn’t,” he said, because really; it wasn’t discomfort that made Jaren run. When he glanced up at John, there was confusion there and something that looked too close to hurt for Jaren to analyse. But he knew he had to explain himself- or at least try. With a sigh, he dusted his fingers off. “My family gets to me easily,” which was a lie, “and I guess I’m just trying to juggle a lot of things at the moment,” which also wasn’t exactly true, “and being close to you and cuddly and… romantic, ‘nd shit just freaks me out a bit.”

But seeing John’s face fall made his stomach twist, the quiet: “Oh,” falling from his roommate’s tongue making it impossible for him to stop himself from blurting out:

“It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

Because somewhere in his stupid head, he had convinced himself only for a millisecond that that was what John would want to hear. That maybe absolute honesty was the right way to go and maybe John would understand.

But the way blue eyes widened (they usually didn’t look so blue but Jaren would blame it on the sky) made his stomach drop out of him.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, staggering to his feet and backing away from John as his thoughts swirled in circles. “Oh God, I didn’t say that. You didn’t- You didn’t hear that-”

Panic flared up and he knew he was about to run again. If the way John jumped up and grabbed him by the wrist was any indication, he knew that that was what he was thinking.

He expected pitying words, or feigned promises that they could still be friends; sweet words that would only hurt Jaren more as his friend let him down easily.

What he didn’t expect was rough fingers on his jaw and a pair of chapped lips pressed chastely to his own. Fast enough that Jaren barely got to think about it but slow enough that there was no way Jaren could have imagined it.

“Don’t run. I’m falling in love with you too,” were the rushed words that John bit out. Jaren knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, his panic probably written across his cheeks. Especially to John, the guy who knew him inside and out, who had been there through his breakdowns and his highlights, who had helped his drunk ass into the bath on those kinds of nights and made him pancakes and tea in the following mornings.

The guy who was falling in love with him too.

The guy who Jaren threw himself into, grabbing John by his face and kissing him just like he’d been wanting to for so many years.

And in the very back of his mind, as John pulled him closer, he could already feel himself flipping off his judgy sister. But there was time to do that later; perhaps after John took him back to the next festival and actually won Jaren a stuffed bear.

#krii7y #fic #fanfic #banana bus squad #drabble #first kiss #fake dating

113 notes · View notes