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domesticblisss · 2 years

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Like No Other

Ricky Starks x Female Reader

Rating: Mature (Minors DNI)

Word Count: 1249

Warnings: Smut, angst and fluff. Cheating, bad romantic relationship, cursing and some misogyny.

Summary: Reader's relationship isn't the best and she finds someone that makes her forget.

Inspired by Warpaint's "Stevie"

A/N: Hey everyone! I love Ricky but this is my first time writing him, I hope it came out good! And please, please, please, read it while listening to the song, it totally sets the vibe.

She knew this was wrong. And so did he.

This wasn’t the first, second or third time. As a matter of fact, they had lost count of how many times this had happened.

The first time happened after a petty fight with Adam, her boyfriend. It was on a night out with basically everyone from work. Wrestlers and the backstage crew had decided to go to the town’s hyped up bar to celebrate another successful Dynamite episode. She sat between him and Matt when he had made a comment about how she looked that night.

That wasn’t the first, second or third time. As a matter of fact, she had lost count of how many times Cole had said something about her appearance. She had always kept quiet, taken it as a joke and dismissed it, even though it hurt her. It always did. It was after a girls night, after a long conversation with Ruby that she finally decided to stand up for herself.

“If how I look bothers you so much, then why are you still with me?”

Adam stopped laughing. “Why are you being such a bitch tonight?”

Cole didn’t wait for an answer, he got up, gulped the rest of his beer and slammed the glass on the table, announcing his departure. The Bucks followed him, and she could hear Nick whispering “what a cunt” to Adam. Kyle and Bobby were a bit more compassionate, they apologised for their friend's behaviour, saying he hadn’t meant it, to which she responded “I know he did.”, to which they apologised again and followed behind Adam.

Ricky saw everything from the counter, pissed. He can’t say he was friends with her before, they had talked a couple of times, she had always been friendly towards him, and was a hit between the backstage crew, never denying a helping hand when needed.

He never understood what she was doing with Adam.

“Go.” Will said, nodding towards her. Will knew how Ricky felt and saw his friend’s reaction with the fight.

Before Ricky could protest, Will interrupted him. “Just go, dude. Talk to her, she looks like she needs a friendly shoulder.”

She, in fact, needed to talk. And as much as she tried not to not talk Ricky’s ears off, she did. He was sweet, understanding, non judgemental and made her laugh.

They didn’t mean it, but that night ended up with them having sex in the women’s bathroom.

She still gets goosebumps whenever she remembers how his hand felt around her neck.

The second time happened after one of the many times Adam and her broke up. It happened at least once a month, over whatever stupid thing had bothered Adam that moment.

She knew it was wrong, but the urge to call Ricky was bigger.

They had exchanged numbers after the first encounter, but their interactions happened exclusively at work.

She texted him for the first time, asking him where he was. It shocked him a bit, but he answered, saying he was just out of the hotel’s gym, asking her to meet him in ten, the biggest ten minutes of her life.

He lived up to his nickname just like that first night.

The third time happened because they wanted, and so did the others.

Today happened because she had been away. Four months to be exact.

She took Kris’ alien status, coming back from a torn ACL injury in just four months was an out of this world feature. Adam, being Adam, did the whole happy and concerned boyfriend act, praising and saying sweet things to her in front of all of their friends. She smiled, but inside she just wanted to run to Ricky’s arm.

Speaking of Ricky, it was like he read her mind. Her phone buzzed on her back pocket, she knew it was him the moment she took her eyes away from Shida and crossed the room, landing on his and his lopsided smile.

The message read “Room 1206”.

Adam left with the Bucks to do something that she didn’t pay attention to what he had said, her mind racing thinking about her little secret.

The elevator ride made her anxious, she was finally seeing Ricky again. Ricky and her had kept in touch, daily texts and the occasional facetime sex call when Adam wasn’t home.

She knocked on Ricky’s door as fast as she had left the elevator. He didn’t say hi, his lips were on hers as soon as he opened the door.

Ricky closed the door with his foot, pressing her against it, making sure the doorknob wasn’t bothering her.

Breathing could wait.

His hands were everywhere, he missed how her skin would prickle when he caressed the curve of her ass, he missed how her nipples would perk when he brushed his fingertips over them, he missed the moan he elicited from her when he pressed his erection on her clothed core.

The need for air finally came and they separated. Silently, he pressed a peck on her lips, took her hand and led her to bed.

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” he said as she sat down.

“Not as much as I missed you.” she answered.

She stood on her knees to help Ricky undress. His toned body and his copper skin always mesmerising to her. Kissing him from his navel to his lips, she undid his belt.

Her hand worked on his hard as a rock cock before leading it to her mouth. She started slow, working the tip of her tongue on the tip of his dick, flat tongue working up his shaft, sucking and increasing the speed until she saw his knees buckle. He groaned when she got up.

“Sit down.” Her voice was soft, but at the same time demanding.

Ricky obliged and she wasted no time, aligning his angry cock with her warm core, slowly sinking on it. She rode slowly, just like he did when he wanted to tease her, feeling all of it inside of her. She fastened her pace, and with the help of his skilled fingers on her sensitive clit, they reached their climax together.

The duo laid down on his bed, her tucked in Ricky’s side as he gently caressed the expanse of her back with the tip of his fingers.

Silence broke when her phone started buzzing on the floor.

“Let me get it.” Ricky said, stopping her. He let out a scoff and showed her the screen that read “Adam ❤️”.

“Fuck.”

Ricky got back to bed, his long arms snaking around her waist, hugging her and pulling her close. “Are you picking it up?”

“Don’t really feel like it.”

“You know,” Ricky held her a little closer and kissed her neck “he’s going to start to get suspicious.”

“I know.” She nodded and took a deep breath before continuing “I’m thinking of ending it for real now.”

He turned her face around so he could look into her eyes, to show her how serious he was. “I don’t mind being the ‘other guy’, you know I really don’t, but I hate seeing you unhappy as you are with him.”

That made her want to tear up a bit but she held on tight.

“I love you, Ricky.” She confessed.

“I love you too, so much.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now come here and show me all this love you got. You’ve been away for too long.”

#aew imagine #aew fanfiction #ricky starks x reader #ricky starks imagine #ricky starks fanfiction #ricky starks #db writes #db fics

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 2 years

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I Hate You (Affectionately) Part 9

I Hate You (Affectionately) Masterlist

Summary: Once you were friends. But everything changed one day… Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x fem!reader Warnings: childhood friends to enemies to adult lovers, Laura returns, slow burn, hospitals, fluff

So many people were involved. FBI buzzed around the office. Checking every corner offline and online for clues. All agents and cops suspected a terrorist group. But not Olivia. She walked up to one of the FBI agents and tabbed on his shoulder, “Hey, I am sorry to interrupt but could it be possible that this attack wasn’t planed by a terrorist group. They would have claimed it for their own, wouldn’t they? You should investigate my daughter. She has been awfully quiet and I got a call from her bank that, although her bank account was frozen by me there were some weird transactions. God knows this girl can’t handle her finances. I think I will have to go to court and become her legal guardian. She nearly fell into the hands of a cult, twice.” Olivia shook her hand. The FBI agent nodded and gave the information’s to the analysts.

An hour later Laura was sitting in an interrogation room. She looked bored out of her mind. Two agents entered the room. Laura still looked unfazed. The agents began to interrogate the young women while her mother was watching. Laura shrugged or gave one-word answers. All to the frustration of everyone in and out of the interrogation room.

One of the agents asked about how Laura found the terrorist group. The women only shrugged, “I don’t know. I just googled a lot of thinks and then my laptop screen turned black. There were some weird symbols. Someone wrote to me. We met. I told him about that bitch and he told me he would take care.” Laura shrugged, popping her bubble. The agents asking her looked very frustrated but it was no surprise to Olivia. Her daughter had that affect on people. The younger agent leaned forwards, her elbows leaned on the surface of the table, “You talked about a second person. Did you mean her?” Agent Crown took out your company picture out of the case file.

Olivia holds her breath. Waiting what her daughter would say about this. “Laura looked down, her face blank, “Yeah. What about her? She is the reason I got kicked out of my company and have to live off my sugar daddy’s money.” Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down. The next comment made her blood boil, “But she isn’t dead, is she. This bitch has so much luck. Did you know-“ Olivia didn’t listen to her daughter anymore. Against the protest of the agents standing around her she stormed out of the room and into the interrogation room. “One of my best employees is fighting for her life because of you. But you have to be petty and ruin the company your father and I worked so hard for. We worked our asses off for years only for you to destroy it in the blink of an eye. Do you feel no shame, Laura?” Olivia nostrils flared. her rage visible through her eyes. “You met with a cybercriminal who bombs my company for what? Vengeance. Your last name isn’t Wayne. You are as stupid as the night sky is dark.”

The agent assigned to her ran through the door. He looked at the agents interrogating Laura and smiled at them sheepishly. “Mrs. Goodwin, you have to leave the room. Please come with me we have some news.” Olivia’s eyes widened. She nodded vigorously and went with the young FBI agent.

Benny nearly ran over a man and an old woman while driving to the hospital. The red lights he ignored may catch up to him in the form of tickets or another form of other payments. But he would gladly pay them if it meant being faster at your side. He was there when you were brought into the hospital and he waited till you came out of surgery. The only time he wasn’t there was during his training hours. His trainer called him in to go over his next match. Benny couldn’t listen to him and was plagued by pictures of your unconscious body.

He parked his car, nearly forgetting to lock the door. He ran to the stairs and skipped three or four at a time. He reached the front desk out of breath and wheezed your name out. The nurse pointed him to your room. Before she could tell you about your well being Benny sprinted to your room.

Your eyes were closed. Your body felt heavy. Every shallow breath you took was painful. Slowly you opened your eyes and tried to sit up. But the pain was unbearable. A nurse rushed in and helped you lay down again, “Oh sweety. Hold on the pain will be lesser in just a minute.” After five minutes the pain subsided a little. “Better?” You nodded. She reached for a water jug and filled a cup of water for you. The nurse helped you sit up and brought the cup to your lips. You emptied the cup in one go.

Fast steps approached your room. Benny burst into your room out of breath. “You are awake.” Benny stormed to your side before being stopped by the nurse, “Hold on a minute, mister. She is in a lot of pain. Don’t make it worse.” Benny nodded shyly at her. She was content about his silent answer and left the room, “See you later.” You tried to wave but gave up due to exhaustion.

“How are you, petal?” You turned your eyes to your best friend, “Everything hurts. My back, my rips, and my head the most. The painkillers help but not much. And I am so tired. I feel like I could sleep through the week.” Benny chuckled. He took your hand and caressed the back of it. You talked for a while till your eyes grew heavy. The nurse appointed to you entered the room. She smiled softly before stepping in front of Benny, “You have to go. She is tired and needs her rest. I let you stay long enough even past visiting hours.”

She turned to you and your flattering eyelids. The nurse pulled up the blanket higher, careful not to touch your injuries. She looked up to Benny, who stood up and was ready to go home, “I can call you if she wakes up. You just have to give me your number.” Benny nodded shyly. He searched for his phone in his pockets before handing it to the nurse. With quick fingers she typed in her number before calling herself. She turned Benny’s phone to him and grinned timidly at him. He looked at his phone and saw not only her number but also her name. He looked up in wonder, a wide grin on his lips, “Sif? What an unusual name.” She matched his grin, “Nickname actually. My name is or was Stefani but I hate it. So I took some letters and turned it to a name I like.” Benny smiled at her, “It’s beautiful. I will hear from you?” She nodded.

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#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia imagine #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia #I Hate You (Affectionately)

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Rabid.

The brainrot was real, guys. Hope you like it :))

Kyoutani Kentarou x female reader

tw blood, violence, implied minor character death, non-con, smut, nsfw

There’s blood splattered across the back of his hands the first time you make the unwitting mistake of catching Kyoutani’s attention. He usually can’t be fucked wasting time wrapping his fists; the skin across one of his knuckles is split and raw from his last job, but most of the blood isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

But he wouldn’t have noticed – it comes with the territory and he’s never really given a fuck whether there’s blood on his clothes or not – if it hadn’t been for that tiny gasp.

That soft, sharp little intake of breath, and like the rabid dog they claim he is, he snaps to the threat.

Nobody else at the table notices, and you seem to realise your mistake, freezing up the moment those honey brown eyes flash and zero in on you. Your throat bobs unsteadily – you look like a deer caught in headlights. Startled. Terrified.

Kinda fuckin’ adorable, if he’s being honest.

“I– I’m sorry, sir,” you mutter, ducking your head as you set down his drink with a tremor in your hand.

Vaguely, he registers Makki’s choked snort at the honorific – nobody’s ever called him sir before – but he can’t really find it in himself to give a fuck that the two of you have drawn an audience.

Not when you’re still frozen, hardly daring to draw breath at his side.

You’re new, that much is painfully obvious, but not stupid. You know who he is – who they are, and despite his reputation, he’s never been one to get off on fear or some fucked up version of a power trip; Kyoutani simply likes the feeling of lashing out, beating the absolute shit out of some asshole just because he can.

Because it feels good, gets his blood pumping.

Nobody would lift a finger to help you if he decided to take offence to your little slip up. And truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit – he’s used to people being on edge around him and it’s not like you’ve reacted any other way than how you’re supposed to.

It’s natural for you to be startled, scared even. But not here, not with them. Here you should know better, because here is filled to the fucking brim with men like Kyoutani. Oh sure, they might be prettier, polished and charming like Oikawa, but you’d have to be a goddamn idiot to think the man hasn’t stepped over bodies he’s put in the ground to get where he is.

At least Kyoutani never has to pretend to be anything other than what he is.

But a little blood in a place like this shouldn’t raise an eyebrow, and the way you’re staring at the table, eyes cast down and wide; Kyoutani can almost hear you cursing yourself out for your own stupidity. And it strikes him as he stares at you, drinking in every subtle shift in your body language, wondering why you don’t just tuck tail and run off like you so clearly want to, that you really don't belong in a place like this.

“Something the matter, Mad Dog?” a silken voice purrs, and he tears his eyes away from your trembling form to glance back at his boss, sitting at the head of the table. The brunette’s smiling idly, appraising the two of you and Kyoutani feels you stiffen beside him.

You don’t dare open your mouth, don’t so much as twitch, not even as Kyoutani returns his attention back to you. By now the entire table has quietened down, most if not all of the gathered men staring at you and you – pretty eyes filling with tears, hands clasped together and trembling in front of your dress – look like you just want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. And somewhat selfishly, there’s a part of Kyoutani that wants to keep you there like that.

Not afraid, exactly. Just… there.

He can’t explain it, doesn’t know why he hasn’t just told you to fuck off back to the kitchen, dismissed you with a grunt like he would have if any of the other servers had made the same mistake. He has bigger shit to worry about than some perceived fucking offence, but he finds himself pausing, drawing this little moment out for a lifetime before finally putting an end to it, “No.”

He jerks his chin, breaking the moment between the two of you to reach for the drink you’d set down before him, but still you don’t move, glancing between him and Oikawa like you’re afraid to move – as if you’re terrified that you’ve read this situation wrong and one wrong step and you’ll just make things worse. It’s so fucking endearing that he almost snorts, but it takes Oikawa’s voice, calm and level and almost kind to shake you out of your frozen state, “Run along now, cutie.”

You scamper off without a backwards glance, and if anybody notices Kyoutani watching you out of the corner of his eye while he nurses his drink, they have the better sense to keep their mouths shut about it.

And honest to god, it’s the last he expects to see of you. He’s not so stupid as to think you landed the job because you genuinely wanted it; people don’t end up in places like this because they have choices, they end up here because somebody somewhere along the line fucked up.

This city’s filthy, full of irredeemable pieces of shit like him and it takes innocence like yours, chews it up and spits it out. If you were smart, you would have left after your little run-in with him, so why the fuck are you right back in their private room less than a week later, nails biting into your palm and resolutely refusing to meet his eye?

Oikawa’s busy rattling off a list of drinks he wants, but this time it’s Kyoutani who’s frozen in place, staring at you with a scowl that has you shivering even as you nod at the Oyabun. He knows Iwaizumi at least is watching him with some kind of morbid combination of curiosity and concern, can’t find it within him to care as you try and slip from the room, giving him as wide a berth as you can without it seeming rude–

Not wide enough. Before he even registers that he’s moved Kyoutani’s reaching out to grab your forearm – his grip not tight enough to hurt, just to stop you from running off on him again. And the little squeak that leaves your soft looking lips sends a ripple of something electric jolting down his spine, but you know better than to try and pull away.

God, he can feel your pulse racing beneath your skin, every terrified thump of your heart. It’s addictive, he thinks, the feeling he gets just from touching you.

“Gimme a beer,” he grunts, waiting until you finally meet his eye.

The nervous little nod you give strokes some part of him he hadn’t realised existed. Kyoutani likes you like this; all timid and obedient. A little too much, maybe.

There’s a sharp elbow in his side courtesy of Yahaba, and he reluctantly releases his grip on you, leaving you to scamper away once more. Cute.

Yahaba makes some snarky comment under his breath and he barely fucking registers it, fixated instead on the skin of his palm; still warm and tingling from your touch. His hands are rough, scarred and calloused, the skin over his knuckles split from another job last night, a little red and bruised – even as he tightens his fingers into a fist they sting just a little.

Guns have their purpose, he’s not against a knife if he’s feeling particularly fucking vindictive, but Kyoutani’s favourite has always been his fists. There’s something about the feeling of skin and muscle giving way beneath his blows, taking all that pent up rage and aggression and letting loose with his fists. It’s a kind of euphoria he’s never found anywhere else; not in women or men or drugs or alcohol. Nothing comes close to the feeling he gets straddling some pathetic piece of shit and beating the absolute fucking crap out of him.

Sometimes if he goes a few days without a fight, he gets a little jittery. Not like the tweakers do, it’s not withdrawal so much as… a building up of restless, rabid energy. He gets on edge, snaps more, lashing out over petty shit until some poor asshole makes the mistake of looking at him the wrong way and Kyoutani just fucking looses it.

He feels it now, that same burning itch under his skin. He’s never thought of his hands as anything more weapons, but touching you, the warmth of your skin, how smooth and soft it was–

Kyoutani wants to do it again. Wants to touch more of you. And he’s not so fucked up yet that he doesn’t realise how twisted this all is, how a guy like him doesn’t belong within a thousand miles of some sweet, cute innocent thing like you. But the world ain’t fucking fair; you’re here and for whatever reason Oikawa’s taken a liking to you and so whenever they’re at the club, you’re the one management send to make sure they’re happy.

And Kyoutani wonders, golden eyes burning a hole into your back as you hastily clear away their empty glasses, whether you realise that if any one of them asked for a dance or for you to get on your knees and blow them, you’d be expected to do that, too.

You might as well be on Seijoh’s payroll now, just be thankful that as far as that side of things go, they’re not the monsters that the rumours make them out to be.

Not that he hasn’t noticed Mattsun’s gaze drifting to your ass when you lean over the table to grab something, the older man shooting him a salacious wink when he notices he’s glaring.

Not that he hasn’t let his own imagination take hold, leaning up against the glass wall of his shower first thing in the morning. His fist pumping along his throbbing cock, wondering what it’d be like to see you on your knees, those pretty eyes full of tears, staring up at him as you swallow him down like the good girl he knows you are.

The thing is, he’s never made all that much of an effort to hide his feelings from the others. He doesn’t give a shit if it makes him the butt of their jokes, doesn’t care what they think about the way he watches you – his attention snapping towards you the moment you slip past the door, purposefully trying to avoid his gaze. Not that it ever does you much good.

Oikawa hasn’t said shit, and that’s enough of a go-ahead as Kyoutani needs. It’s none of their fucking business anyway.

You’ve managed to get under his skin, push him to the fucking brink when he goes more than a few days without seeing you. He knows you don’t want any part of this; that you’re still fucking terrified of him. Kyoutani’s never been one to chase after somebody who wants nothing to do with him – there are plenty of women more than willing to spread their legs for Seijoh’s big bad Mad Dog if he wants an itch scratched. There’s no good reason why he can’t get you out of his head, why you’ve sunk your teeth into him and refuse to let go – even when it’s clear that that’s so fucking far from what you intended with the blonde.

It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, it doesn’t change shit; you’re his, whether you’re willing to acknowledge that or not.

And maybe he’s just living with his head up his ass, but he doesn’t quite realise how fucking inadequate this whole arrangement is until he needs a piss one night and ventures out into the club only to see some asshole trying to cop a feel and tug you down to his lap, his friends drunk and howling with laughter as you try to politely escape them.

Distantly he registers that he recognises the piece of shit as some low level fucking drug lord who’s been all but sucking Oikawa’s dick trying to get a bigger piece of the pie, but in that moment, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck who he is.

Kyoutani just sees red.

Nostrils flaring, steam practically pouring from his ears, he storms over. And adrenaline’s surging through him with every pounding beat of his heart, every synapse in his body’s electrified, ready to lay into this piece of shit for daring to lay a finger on what’s his.

He wants to beat him bloody, wants to fuck up his face – to whale on him until muscle and bone give way and there’s nothing left but bloody pulp where his head used to be. Him and his fucking friends.

But Kyoutani has his priorities, and he reaches you first, grabbing you by your elbow and ripping you away from them, a muscled arm curling protectively around your waist. And he’s deaf to whatever protests you have, to the excuses the pieces of crap in front of him offer up, can’t hear a goddamn thing over the pounding in his head as he fixes them with a snarl and all but drags you back to their room, shoving you less than gently in through the door.

“Stay here, don’t move until I get back,” he orders, and he loves you, he does, but when you open your mouth to argue, something inside of him tightens and snaps. He grabs you by the jaw, jerking your face up as he crowds in over you, golden eyes ablaze, “Not a fucking muscle, understand?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, crashing his lips down on yours to steal the kiss he’s been waiting fucking weeks for before stalking back out.

Kyoutani is beyond caring about ramifications, Oikawa’s always given him a fairly loose leash to do as he pleases and if this is what puts an end to that so fucking be it; he’ll take you and go. But he hears Iwa and Mattsun on his heels and neither one of them are trying to stop him as he storms back towards the drug lord and his little cronies, so he figures the boss ain’t too fucking bothered with what he’s about to do.

And maybe if he’d had a clearer head, he might’ve found it funny how quickly the floor clears when he vaults the couch, grabs the asshole by the front of his silk shirt and heaves him forward, sending him careening face first into a table full of drinks.

With the taste of you on his lips, the memory of this piece of shit’s hands all over you, Kyoutani doesn’t hold back.

The others are gone by the time he, Iwa and Mattsun return, it’s just Oikawa casually leaning back in his seat, you sitting rigidly in the one beside him, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair.

Kyoutani’s eyes flicker tensely between the two of you – he’s still on edge, still not right. He needs something more to feed that rabid fucking monster lurking beneath his skin, and his Oyabun knows it.

Oikawa smiles genially, patting your knee for just a moment (and oh, how Kyoutani hates the flash of jealous rage that rears its ugly head when he leans over and whispers something in your ear) before standing up.

“Mad Dog,” he says, eyeing him with a shrewd look he recognises all too well. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He nods at the two behind him and without another word the three of them exit, no doubt to try and smooth over the mess he’d just made.

Leaving Kyoutani alone with you.

And there’s a part of him that’s pissed off, because this was always gonna happen, but fuck, he was gonna make an effort. He’d wanted it to be nice for you… romantic, or at least as romantic as somebody like him was capable of.

You deserve that much.

His blood’s still thrumming, remnants of blind fury and jealousy and possessive need still burning through his veins. The fight wasn’t enough to sate him; it should’ve been – he’d left them in fucking pieces – but then again you’ve been toeing this line for a long, long time, and Kyoutani’s patience only goes so far.

He should at least take you back to his apartment, try and salvage this disaster of a night, but he knows deep down he can’t make himself walk out of here with you without taking what he needs.

He’s still not entirely in control, breathing hard as he stares at you, watches you fiddle with your hands in your lap, refusing to meet his gaze. “Stand up,” he says, his voice a rough growl.

On shaking legs, you obey, eyes flickering towards the doorway behind him, and distantly he wonders what you’re thinking. You’re foolishly naive, he’ll admit that much, but he doesn’t think you’re stupid. You know where this is going, and you must know that there is nobody and nothing that’s gonna stop what’s about to happen. Not even you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and now he’s the one to draw in an unsteady breath. “Strip.”

You blanch, eyes widening in pure panic. And there’s a part of him that feels guilty, that knows he’s scaring you right now and hates himself for it, but any chance of rationality winning out fled the moment he saw somebody else put their hands all over you.

“Strip,” he repeats when you make no move to start taking your clothes off. “Or I’ll rip that pretty fucking dress off myself.”

Kyoutani adores that little catch in your breath, the way you bite down on your bottom lip as you give in, meekly reaching for the zipper at your back.

You’re so fucking beautiful, every mouthwatering inch of you. Tentatively, you glance up at him after your dress hits the floor, as if you’re hoping that that’ll be enough, that he doesn’t want to see all of you. Any other time, and the sight of you in your matching set of lingerie might’ve been enough to calm him, but it’s not what he needs tonight.

His scowl deepens, and you’re clever enough to read between the lines. Your bra goes first, pretty lace panties joining the small pile of clothes on the floor a moment later.

Good girl.

His eyes darken as he stares, hungrily taking you in. Soft tits, nipples pebbling under the cool air, he’s dying to touch them, suck on them, mark them up nice and fuckin’ pretty. The gentle swell of your ass, smooth, supple thighs he can’t wait to get his hands on, and that cute little cunt of yours, all his. His to play with, his to tease, his to claim. Fuck, this is better than all the images he’s conjured up of you in the heat of the moment, stroking his cock to get off with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He wants to compliment you, tell you how perfect you are, how cute you are – trembling naked in front of him, but he’s beyond words right now, hanging onto his control by a fucking thread as his cock twitches in his pants, all that blood rushing south.

You look like you’re about to burst into tears as you swallow, taking in a quick, hitching breath. “Kyoutani,” you begin in a soft, tiny voice–

And that last little thread snaps.

He’s on you before you can stop him, spinning you around and roughly slamming your hips up against the table. There’s no time to be soft or gentle, no time to even take off his pants, he just shoves them down to his thighs and reaches for his cock.

Fuck, he’d wanted to eat you out, to stuff you full of his fingers and make you cum on them first, get you nice and stretched out, but he’s still too wound up. Kyoutani needs to be buried inside of you, needs to fuck you – he’ll make it up to you afterwards, he swears it.

He’ll treat you like a fucking princess, just be good for him now.

And the scream that shatters that calm night air should tear at him – he doesn’t want to hurt you, not ever, it’s his job to protect you – but he can’t focus on that when your pussy’s clamping down around his fat cock, a dizzying heat enveloping him as your walls flutter and squeeze against the unwanted intrusion.

It feels like fucking heaven. Kyoutani’s hands are everywhere; your tits, your ass, squeezing reassuringly at your hip when a broken sob leaves your lips. And he’s kissing at your shoulders, nuzzling at your neck even as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, desperate to be as close to you as he can as his hips draw back and he pounds back in, grunting like a beast in heat.

He fucks you savagely, your hips slamming against the table with every thrust – there’ll be bruises no doubt, but he’ll look after those too. He swears to fucking god, he’ll take such good care of you. You’re gonna be his girl. You are his girl.

It’s easier than it should be to drown out your agonised cries and pleas for him to slow down, to chase his own pleasure within your tight, wet heat, his cock ramming up against your cervix with every stroke.

He loves you, loves the feeling of being inside of you – fuck, Kyoutani doesn’t think he ever wants to leave. His fingers find your clit and you cry out, a shudder wracking your body that almost has him seeing stars with the way your pussy tightens and convulses around him in response. He loses his rhythm as he nears his end, hips jackrabbiting into your poor, abused cunt as his balls tighten.

You’re slick now, cunt drooling around him as he fucks you hard and fast, lewd slaps echoing out with every brutal thrust. Kyoutani knows he’s holding you too tight, knows it’s probably hurting but he can’t fucking care when he’s so close and you feel so fucking good–

His teeth sink into your neck as that blinding pleasure takes hold; his entire body seizing up, abs tightening as his orgasm slams into him. Kyoutani cums with a hissed snarl, crushing you against him as thick, warm spurts fill your perfect little cunt right up. He fucks you through it, a slow, lazy grind of his hips against yours as he milks his orgasm for all it’s worth, pressing gentle, soothing kisses along your collarbone while you sniffle and sob pathetically.

“Love you,” he grunts quietly – truthfully – letting your exhausted body collapse back against the table. And it’s now he regrets not having taken you home to do this on an actual bed, just so he could lie you down somewhere soft afterwards and curl up beside you.

Still, there’s not much he can do but try and comfort you as best he can, rough fingers running soothingly up and down your back as he waits for you to calm down. He pauses after a moment though, staring oddly at his hands.

There’s blood smeared across his skin, caked under his nails, splattered up his tattooed forearms. And Kyoutani can’t help the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips as he leans over to kiss your shoulder again, his cock still stuffed inside of you.

Most of it isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kyoutani #yandere kyoutani x reader #yandere kyoutani kentarou x reader #yandere kyoutani kentarou #tw blood #tw violence #tw implied minor character death #tw non con #i love the angry tennis ball

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

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Hi Molly! I really enjoyed the latest chapter of offside! I love petty Kate! I think you previously mentioned that Anthony is 32 in this story so I'm wondering how much longer does he keep playing in this universe? Also, do any of the other Man City players lose the ability to function around Kate because she's so pretty or is that just Anthony's particularly brand of clownery?

I'm glad everyone is loving Offside

It's slowly climbing the ranks to everyone's favourite AU!

Anthony is 32 right now, and I think he probably plays for another 3 or four seasons after this one they're currently in so he maybe retires around 35-36, and then he takes a coaching job and jogs up and down the side of the pitch with his tiny baby strapped to his chest making hearts flutter everywhere

Kate is also making hearts flutter around the stadium and it makes Anthony furious

The boys talked in the changing room. Of course they did. There was little else to be done to undercut the complete awkwardness of standing in your underwear surrounded by fifteen other men. So of course they talked, about everything. Shows they were watching on Netflix, cars they wanted to buy, moments from games, after game plans, which naturally brought them to women.

Anthony wasn't stupid, despite what some might think, he knew that Kate was an attractive woman. That was the entire fucking problem with her actually; She was almost too attractive. The fact that she just wandered around like that with her thick dark hair, and her eyes sparkling with a witty retort she was about to give, and those legs that stretched to the fucking ceiling, and the way her voice sounded like velvet, and she smelled like flowers, it really ought to be illegal, actually. Surely it wasn't just allowed. She was stunning. Absolutely. And it would have been stupid to think that he was the only one who'd noticed.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He'd heard one of his teammates whisper when Pep had introduced her at training that first day, when he'd already been burning for her after their conversation. "I might have to let myself get injured a bit this season, boys."

Anthony had twitched with irritation, his chest roaring as the boys had crowded around her, muscles bulging, leaning in, eyes winking, it was ludicrous. The same thing had happened last season when Sophie had joined the team, until she and ben had started dating and then slowly one by one they'd all given up.

It'll be the same Anthony told himself. They'll settle, and she's not yours anyway.

But they didn't

It seemed like it followed him everywhere. Wherever he went, men talking about Kate.

"Jesus look at that little skirt."

"Fucking hell I wouldn't mind having her look at a groin injury."

"A born flute player lads." That from another team's doctor of all people.

Her office door was practically revolving, the boys making up injury after injury, and the fact that she sent them away with their tail between their legs only seemed to make them thrive forward. And finally he'd had enough.

He couldn't even say later, who'd said it, and really, it was one of the least awful comments he'd heard about her, but something made him snap. Something awful and ugly and jealous rising in his chest.

"Fucking ENOUGH!" he roared through the changing room, his pulse thundering through his ears. "She's part of this team, start fucking acting like it!"

The room had fallen silent, everyone staring at him, several mouths falling open before someone had let out a loud "Ooooooo Bridgerton's got a little crush!"

And his fate had been sealed.

He'd tried to fight it with a gruff "Fuck off. As if."

But the fact that his cheeks were burning for everyone to see and that was it. The entire team knew that he had a wild hard on for Dr Kate Sharma.

Which of course, only made them act more like a hyperactive pack of Chihuahuas whenever she was around, nudging and ribbing him

"Bridgerton your Girlfriends here!" His cheeks burning, pulse thrumming until finally, months and months later he was able to say

"Yeah she is." Sprinting off the pitch and pulling Kate into a dramatic dip, their lips meeting roughly while the rest of the team cheered.

Of course, he still saw the startled looks on the rookie's faces when Anthony took them to their first physical to introduce them to the medical team and they look around at Kate, Sophie, and Lucy, their mouths gaping. And this time he burned with pride.

"Say hello to Dr Sharma, and Sophie and Lucy, Steven."

"H-Hi!"

#offside au #kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #molly's asks and answers

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brendonuriegotcancelled · 2 years

Text

Dallon and Breezy Weekes

Part 1

Now that we’ve been kinda introduced to these two, let’s get into the nitty-gritty.

I’m going to start with Dallon and move on to Breezy in Part 2.

In 2015 Dallon was demoted back to a touring guitarist shortly before Spencer announced his departure.

Dallon did help write before his demotion and I’ll get into exact percentages for visual proof in the writing credit section of the master list.

Bullying

The main topic that fans of Dallon tend to bring up is the fact that Dallon has alluded to being bullied while working for Panic!

This bullying was apparently done by Zack & Brendon. Though as you can see from Breezy’s messages with a fan here. She kept trying to convince them that they had no issues with Brendon. I’m not so sure of that.

The first case of bullying we saw was a periscope of the band and Zack having lunch at the airport. This video is no longer available on YouTube I believe the original account took it down. The conversation was generally mocking Dallon for being Mormon. (Brendon himself used to be Mormon and most of his family still is) just something worth noting for context. No one’s really innocent in any of this. Zack & Brendon would make fun of Dallon all the time, joking around. Feelings were hurt. There’s more of this info if you Google it, to be honest. But I’m assuming that you came here for the partial other side of this.

These are just a couple of examples of Zack making jokes… at Dallon’s expense…Yeah, it happens. Joking with friends is usually what dudes do. It sucks that feelings were hurt when they didn’t have to be & I hope that everyone at this point who was involved has grown and changed as a person. Including Dallon, who has also made jokes at another’s expense.

Below is a tweet sent to Patrick Stump from Dallon. The tweet isn’t available anymore because Dallon deleted hundreds of tweets in 2020. Breezy deleted thousands.

Here is another tweet Dallon sent out to the public about Christina and Britney. It speaks for itself.

When a fan tweeted about how awful what Dallon said was, Breezy dm’d them in a screenshot you can see below

She states, “you have to understand that’s how guys joke” I love her ability to cherry-pick situationally acceptable jokes. She would later make a remark about double standards because she herself created them.

She then tries to justify Dallon’s comments about Britney and Christina by saying “out of all the wives surrounding the band she is the only one with more curves than bone?” She then blocked the person messaging before they could answer her.

Is that not also body-shaming the rest of the women? The reason I’m providing this information is due to the blatant hypocrisy. The best apology from any of these people should be to change their behavior. You don’t have to speak on it to be a better person. You can be performative and tell everyone that you’re learning and that you’re gonna be better. Promising it with words doesn’t make it tangible. You have to actually put the work in. Performative is just that. Performative. I’m not gonna sit here and post every single tone-deaf, awful tweet Dallon or Breezy have ever posted, because, I think people can change without having to apologize for every single indiscretion publicly to make it “real”

The Stupid fight over the Sparkly fucking Jacket

If I have to hear one more thing about this absolutely ridiculous jacket feud I’ll probably lose my mind because it was so petty. Dallon made a music video after he departed from Panic! And set fire to his old Panic! “Uniforms” and then told everyone he did it to save money on suits. Except, his mother-in-law (Breezy’s mother) was commenting whenever she could that Dallon was “not allowed to sparkle” and celebrated the torching of the suits by using her realtor account? Uh-huh.

Breezy also brought this up in 2020 saying that Zack and Dallon had an “almost physical” altercation about this stupid jacket.

My take:

Brendon Urie is known for wearing snazzy, sparkled jackets. He’s the frontman, he’s the focal point. Aesthetically. Years of him working his ass off for this band has given him that. So for the one thing that Dallon “stood up” for to be the jacket he wanted to wear on stage is so bizarre. The stage setup is done down to the costumes. Every other member wore black as well. Though, Breezy claims it didn’t happen until Dallon wanted to wear his sparkly jacket. Dallon was (at that point) a hired musician to play the set, wear the set costume, and get paid. Anything could have happened between 2013 and 2015 when Dallon got demoted. But from the constant pettiness we all witnessed after his departure, it must have been more than just one issue and there are several sides to every story.

The only side we have seen is Dallon’s.

Brendon is very much against involving himself in online drama where there are young and impressionable minds listening. He’s been in the business long enough to know when to let things go. Brendon’s family members wouldn’t be on Panic! fan pages or tweets commenting petty paragraphs, either.

Such bizarre behavior from the Weekes family and their loved ones that I don’t think ever should have got to the point it did or become so PUBLIC. They could have just moved on with their lives after Dallon left the band. He had his own project, he had his own life. That never happened. He continued to answer questions about Panic! constantly alluding to how horrible his time was IN Panic, while simultaneously telling fans that he appreciated his time in Panic! and the opportunity that it gave him.

Thrilled to not be involved anymore but still won’t stop talking about it.

He was seen not even 2 months ago telling everyone “I was in the Brobecks before this, nothing else” which he knew would get a reaction from his fanbase and ours. We can’t move on from this if he keeps bringing it up.

Answering a question 3 days ago about Panic!….that he could have quite literally just ignored.

The contradicting statements Dallon has made since his departure are confusing to say the least. One day he is appreciative of the opportunity he had, the next day he doesn’t want to be associated. But again keeps answering fan questions about it over and over again. Alluding to wanting everyone to forget he was in Panic! at his own shows. Asking journalists to stop associating him with Panic!

But don’t worry.

Dallon & Breezy have every platinum record given to them by Panic! on their walls at home, including Death of a Bachelor, which Dallon was not creatively at all part of.

You know, the band they were so bothered being associated with.

Yes, he is allowed to celebrate his success, he was a part of a big band for 8 years.

But he’s the one that keeps telling everyone that he doesn’t want to be associated? It’s constant contradiction with him.

Are you grateful, are you ungrateful?

Did you deserve better?

Those awards are on your wall because of Brendon, because you got the opportunity of a life time.

What happened during could have been dealt with better by everyone involved.

But it isn’t Brendon, Dan, Sarah, Mike, Nicole, or any of their family members, that keep bringing it up. It’s YOU, your family and your fans.

They will tell a different story, I’m sure.

Panic! fans aren’t perfect… in fact, sometimes I wonder why we respond the way we do. These artists give us such a visceral reaction to hate. We care for them so much. I only wish that all involved can move on. Dallon I’m begging you, stop talking about or not talking about Panic! we would like to move on.

The love for them should stay just that. I am writing this master list and never talking about it again haha!

This is Part 1, all laid out. These posts have a media limit, which is why I am doing them in parts so I can properly illustrate a full picture.

There will be a part 2 that will mostly be on Breezy and her behavior before and after Dallon’s departure.

Thank you for reading! I know some of you might think that I could have added more in this section, but the amount of publicly associated drama within this section alone would take me weeks to put together. I’m gonna hit the stuff that matters and move on.

Stay safe, be nice to each other but don’t take anyones shit.

GO TO PART 2

GO BACK TO THE MASTERLIST

#brendon urie #zack cloud hall #panic! at the disco #dallon weekes #breezy weekes #Patrick stump

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Text

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello x female reader #donnie tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #Donatello #Donnie #ns*w #oneshot

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inknopewetrust · 4 years

Text

smallest joys (Henry!Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader)

Summary: the tree in the Holmes’ backyard as a place of great peace and laughter of all, and a moment arises for it to be a place of forgiveness and love as well.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none.

A/N: thanks so much for reading and always remember that authors love to hear any feedback on stories, so don’t be shy to share your opinions. Requests are still closed, but I’m working on getting them up and running hopefully soon! xoxo (gif not mine)

Enola was perched high above the ground in the great gray tree that sat far from the house she had grown to resent without her mother there. It was difficult, the constant want of adventure and thrill that was often smothered because of Mycroft’s inability to have a semblance of joy in his life.

Throwing the shading pencil in her sketchbook and closing it with a huff, Enola heard a set of angered footsteps make their way towards the tree in which she inhabited and she balled her fists against a branch. Half expecting it to be Mycroft yelling at her for leaving the study and half expecting it to be Sherlock doing their eldest brother’s bidding in a kinder manner, one they always hoped she’d fall for.

But it wasn’t. Y/n L/n, Sherlock’s feisty assistant from London was irate with her cheeks as red as apples storming toward the tree. Without noticing Enola above, Y/n leaned against its trunk and her head fell into her hands in embarrassment.

“Did you do something stupid?” Enola inquired and you jumped ever so slightly, looking up with great haste at Enola above. The young girl was smiling down on you kindly but also with such an inquisitive mind, you weren’t sure if she truly cared or just wanted manor gossip to share with the housemaid.

“And why would you ask such a thing, young lady?” You shoved your hands on your hips and narrowed fine eyes at Enola, trying to forget why you stormed out in the first place, though that was practically impossible because you knew he would follow after an argument.

“I asked you first, Y/n. And I’m not a young lady, you sound like Mycroft.” Enola swung her feet off a branch and rested her head in her intertwined hands that laid on top of another arm of the great tree.

“What happened? Did Sherlock finally recognize your talents for discovery or did you say something stupid that angered him?” Enola asked again, more in depth than before and her eyes narrowed now at the woman she had grown to admire very much.

Y/n was always someone who Enola could depend upon. Whether it be for new books from London or a simple lesson on dust particles, she knew Y/n had many of the answers. But as of late, with her mother gone and the tension in the home only growing, Sherlock appeared to be easily angered or upset by small comments, jokes or jabs at him that were not unusual from his assistant and Enola took notice. She saw the way Y/n’s eyes fell or how she would storm out of the room, angered at either herself or his reaction to her little joys and she couldn’t quite figure out why it was always her he was getting angry at. It had never happened before they had come to stay at his childhood home to help with Enola.

“Enola, I do not want to burden you with the petty arguments of adults. It is no concern of yours.”

“If it is my brother’s fault I consider it my concern.”

You pursed her lips at the girl before indulging in your frustrations.

“Every little comment I make he gets angry at. I am not use to being yelled at by him and I certainly do not understand why he is so uptight ever since we arrived. I try to help with his inquiries about your mother but even then, my input seems to go in one ear and sails out the other! Enola, I mean nothing by this, truly, I am simply frustrated by always being second fiddle to a man who appears to need no help at all.” You managed to mutter out in a moments time and Enola understood. Mycroft was the one treating Enola the same way at the moment and she wanted nothing more than to place a metal helmet on his head and bang a stick against it to set his mind straight. The men just do not appear to respect the intelligence of the women in the house.

“I am not meant for a life of domesticity, Enola. I am sure you can tell by the way I stir a pot or fold the laundry, I like adventure and I enjoy mystery very much. I simply want Sherlock to see that too. I don’t want to lose my dearest friend over one little spat.”

Enola smiled down at you and jumped down, meeting the grass with a thud and wiped off the shards that managed to catch themselves on her stockings.

“And that is why I admire you, very much, if I may add. And are you sure you don’t love him? If friends act the way you two do, I would have to choose my friends wisely.” You chuckled, reassured her you were simply just friends and embraced Enola in a some-what motherly manner, though Enola saw it as what she’d imagined would be a best friend, or sister.

“I would tell him how you feel. Make him understand you better and believe me when I say he will listen.” Enola retracted from the embrace and shot off towards the house, leaving you in state of bewilderment and confusion but when you turned around yourself intending to watch Enola run toward the house, you were met with the man you had no more than ten minutes ago stormed away from.

Sherlock stood with one hand in a pocket and the other clutching a book to his chest and a small pout on his face. The pout wasn’t one of sadness or disappointment, but of wonder and curiosity, already trying to decipher the situation before him.

“She was quick to run away.” Sherlock observed and moved toward the tree, leaning his back against it and looking over to you, just slightly to the side of him but facing him, not the land surrounding the tree.

“Well if she knew your temper as well as I do, I would run away too but obviously that has proven to not be an option.”

“I came here to apologize.” Your eyes, ears, and heart managed to perk up at the sound of Sherlock saying the word “apologize” because it wasn’t one he had ever said before, certainly not to you or anyone else he interacted with.

“An apology? From the great Sherlock Holmes? What ever shall I do with this honor?” You faked a gasp and held a hand to your forehead in a manner that only suggested a maiden swooning. Sherlock enrolled his eyes at the joke, seeming to understand that it was simply that, and as your hand made its way down from your forehead, he captured it softly in his empty one and held it gently, yet firm and your eyes flicked up to meet his.

“I would like to be serious about this, Y/n. My actions towards you the last few days have been unlike me and I am sorry for making you feel as if your opinion doesn’t matter, because it most certainly does.”

So he had heard you short conversation with Enola.

“Your opinion I value more than anyone in this world and I am frustrated I have gotten nowhere with my mother’s case in several days. I want her to return safely and with every passing day that outcome becomes less likely.”

“If you spoke to me about your concerns earlier we may have found a middle ground Sherlock. I accept your apology but I will not forgo my jokes in any situation so enjoy the humor while I still walk this earth.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace his face at the comment. He knew you always took your work seriously, but humor helped with the difficulties some cases can bring and he often failed to recognize the importance of laughter and enjoyment even in the darkest times. He still held your hand in his, in which he then brought it up to his lips and kissed the inside of your palm. It was personal, intimate, and apologetic.

“I am sorry you have to put up with me. I shouldn’t be so harsh when you’re trying to brighten the darkest days.”

“If I want to leave I can, but I seek thrill too much to let you or these cases disappear from my life.”

Sherlock actually smiled and sat down against the trunk, leading you to sit beside him and wrapped his free hand around your shoulders pulling you close. Ever since you arrived at his home, intimate interactions were seldom as Mycroft would have a million harsh words about how you were not a “proper lady to Sherlock”, but it wasn’t like Sherlock would have cared anyway.

“Shall we return to this story?” Sherlock said in a low, “fancy” voice in your ear and you couldn’t help but let out a snort at his attempt to be regal.

“I sincerely hope Elizabeth slaps Mr. Darcy across the face after what he said about her family. If that does not happen, the story dies there.”

“Would you slap every man who offends you? Because if so I’ll brace for one now.” Sherlock was actually joking for once but you slapped his chest lightly with your hand and let it fall, playing with a button on his waist coat. He looked down at you, a curl from the top of his head falling onto his forehead with a spring and you smiled at the handsome man you curled up against.

“Perhaps.”

Sherlock laid a lingering kiss on your forehead and opened the book, removing the leaf that served at the bookmark and began reading in total comfort with you beside him. It was perfect until a rumble came from the bush and Enola shot up with sticks in her hair.

“So you ARE together!?”

#Sherlock Holmes #enola homes #enola holmes netflix #henry cavill #Sherlock Holmes x reader #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Sherlock Holmes one shot #Sherlock Holmes fic #henry!sherlock #henry!holmes #x reader #female reader #post #personal post #original post #original writing

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burytherosemarysprigs · 3 years

Text

Oral Sadism and Literary Arguments

A/N : Ok, so, like enemies to lovers???? slow burn??? literature??? fuck me.

/ Masterlist /

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: There’s probably only one thing worse than chauvinist literature, and that’s the sardonic boy who sits two rows behind in Lit class with his torn paperbacks and ineffable aversion.

“Well, I actually disagree with you,”

If you didn’t have that much self-control, you would’ve snapped the pencil you were holding in half, as you heard a deep voice speak up behind you, and before you could retort, Professor Gordon spoke,

“And why’s that Jason?”

“I think Bukowski was trying to present how men will hide their inner thoughts and feelings, really their sensitivity in that aggression as an attempt at protection.” Jason spoke up, his voice boiling your blood as the rest of the class stayed in relative silence, as you turned around to look at him as he stared directly at you,

“I’m sorry, protection? What part about misogyny and blatant objectification of women as only being sexual objects that can be discarded and picked up when he pleases passes as protection? Women that are empty and uncharacterised to the extent the reader begins to agree with Chinaski that yes, women are less. Women are not important. And women don’t require compassion and consent, what part of any of this reminds you about goddamn male – “

“All right, I think that’s enough for today.” Gordon interrupted your heated rant with a sigh, which you share and quickly turn around close your eyes to try and avoid the weight of Jason’s stare as Gordon begins to dismiss the class.

“All right everyone, I hope you took something useful from that discussion, though I’m not sure if you would classify that as a discussion,” He added sarcastically, before continuing, “I expect you all to have brief outlines planned out for next week, and please try to work as collaboratively as you can with your partner to do so.”

The last part was directed at you and Jason – though neither of you payed proper attention – while the rest of the class let out small snickers.

“Right then, class dismissed, and uh, you two, could you both please stay behind for a minute.”

Fucking great. You thought to yourself, even though Gordon didn’t specify both you and Jason, his tired expression tells you otherwise and you start collecting your notes and pens into your bag in a silent fury and made your way to the front of the class, where Gordon was leaning against his oak desk, watching both of you stand in front of him – not casting a single glance towards the other as you waited for him to speak. He sighs,

“I don’t think you both understand how frustrating it is when your top students both have it out for each other and can’t hold a single civil discussion before arguing like little children,” He begins, becoming more wary as he continues, “Which is why I paired you up for this assignment and I fully expect you both to work together, and I hope I can expect that from you?”

He looked at both of you with an expectant look, and Jason only nodded curtly as a response, and you did the same but decided to chirp in,

“That’s great that you think we’ll be able to work together, sir, but on a totally unrelated note, how would my grade be impacted if my partner was suddenly mauled by a car over the weekend and was unable to complete the project with me?” You spoke, voice deadpanning, as your professor barely restrained in a smile while Jason looked at you with an empty expression.

“I would say that would be a fail as you missed the premises of ‘working with a partner’, as well as some serious legal consequences.” He replied, somehow maintaining a serious look as he spoke.

“That’s great to know sir.” You spoke, nodding along before he dismisses you both, leading you to quickly walk out of the classroom, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see Barbara leaning against the wall, busy on her phone, waiting for you to come out.

“What took you so long,” She asks as soon as she hears your sigh, pocketing her phone, and linking her arm with yours,

“I swear to God, one day, I might as well skin him – “

“Look, if I had known before that you could be so dramatic, I would’ve told you to choose drama as your major.”

“Ha. So funny. It’s just – fuck him.” You say the last part under your breath as you turned around to see nobody in the empty hallway.

“You two are really something else.” She states, making you roll your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you and Jason are really annoying. And petty.”

“Well, he’s the one that needs to contradict and compete against every single fucking thing I say, every single fucking time! It’s really fucking annoying,” Barbara only rolls her eyes in amusement. “And Gordon paired us up together for this project, and, God, I just can’t do anything with him without wanting to punch him in his stupid face.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why Gordon paired you both up, he really likes you both and he wants you both to stop having this weird rivalry between each other.”

“Wait. You knew?”

“Well yeah. I’m his daughter.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I like seeing you suffer.”

“You know, you’re a terrible friend.”

“Thank you,” She replies, with a small laugh, before she links her arm with yours again and whips out her phone to frantically shoot another text as she lets out a deep sigh. “Where is Steph? She took my car this morning and said she’d pick us up.”

“You let her drive your Bentley?” You ask, surprised she would give Stephanie one of her most prized possessions.

“Yeah, I know,” She spoke, absorbed in her phone, “But, she promised me that she would keep it safe, and we all know that I will kill her if something happens to it.”

“I do.” You reply, a small laugh escaping your lips before a blue Bentley pulled up in front of you both, causing Barbara to quickly pull open the door and shuffle inside, leaving you to chuckle to yourself before making your way to the back seat of the car, the blaring music making you wince as you enter the car but Babs quickly turns it off as both of you settle in.

“See! Your car is perfectly fine, just like I told you it would be!” Steph smugly announced, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as Barbara stared at her unimpressed, before both of them fall into their routine bickering as, this time, Babs begins to criticise her driving and apparent ‘mishandling of the most precious thing to me’, while you only roll your eyes at their antics before pulling out your phone to scroll through the messages you’ve missed throughout the day.

“Hey,” Steph’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you meet her eyes through the rear-view mirror, “What’s up with you today?”, her seemingly innocent question provokes a snicker from Babs – to which she receives a smack on the shoulder from you.

“What?” Steph inquires further.

“Nothing, why don’t you ask miss ‘I-fucking-hate-Jason-Todd’ here.”

“Fuck off, Barbara.” You grit out, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror.

“God, both you and Jason actually act like children,” Stephanie chimes in, “You’re both almost the same but you both compete against each other against every little thing – “.

“Are we done talking about Todd?” You retort, ignoring Steph’s comment, “I have better things to do than think about him.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Barbara winks at you and it takes a lot for you not to launch at her right there, in the car but Steph draws your attention away by babbling about some boy she met in her criminology class and the conversation in the car gradually fizzles out, until Steph asks,

“You guys heard about the party this weekend, right,” A matching ‘yes’ from you and Babs prompts her to continue, “Well, you’re going then, right?”

“I don’t know, but why’re you so pressed about it?” Bars questions, with a raised eyebrow.

“No reason, I’m just curious.”

“It’s Tim, isn’t it?” This time, you pipe in, and Steph almost yells,

“No. No, it’s not!”

“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Babs laugh echoes with yours as you eye Steph in the rear-view mirror, to see a blush dusting her cheeks as she quiets down.

“Whatever, are you coming or not.”

“After this conversation, yeah I am.”

“God. I hate you both.”

Standing in the corner of the party, nursing a red solo cup of something that burns your throat when you drink it, you regret not saying anything in the car against attending this party.

You’re currently standing alone, both Steph and Babs have completely disappeared into crowd, as Dick had shown up and quickly whisked her away as soon as you all entered the apartment, whereas Steph has promised to get you a drink about twenty minutes ago but never came back and as you try to block out the reverberating EDM music blasting through the room, you make your way towards the kitchen to re-fill your cup (the one that you went and got yourself), before something catches your attention in the peripheral vision.

It’s a wispy haired girl, her eyes smudged with mascara, backed against the wall of the kitchen – away from the main crowd, you could pick from her body language a sense of uncomfortability as she was drunkenly shaking her head at a man who towered in front of her, making you stop in your tracks to watch the scene unfold right in front of you, before quickly changing your course towards their direction, already knowing the identity of the man in front of the girl, without seeing his face.

“Hey, Cyrus, get the fuck away from her!”

As soon as you reach them, and the words leave your mouth, another raucous voice speaks at the same time as you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Cyrus and the girl in front of him stop at their hushed conversation, to look away from each other and face you both while you also look at Jason – with a shocked expression – standing next to you and before you can say anything, Cyrus lets go of his hold on the girl before turning to glare at you.

“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business?”

You restrain yourself from physically hurling at him and fist your hands at your sides before looking at him with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t see how any of this is your business either, Beck? Thought daddy said that he’ll pull you out of school if he had to deal with your stupid behaviour again, or did you forget about it?”

“I swear to god – “

He tries to step closer to you but Jason steps in front of you before he can do anything else, and mutters,

“How about you fucking walk away before something worse happens?”

Beck shrugs of Jason’s hold on him before walking away and pointing a finger at you.

“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?”

“Should’ve said that to your daddy when he said I was best fucking person he’s ever met.”

He looks at you wildly and is about to retort before one of his friends pulls his attention to a game of beer-pong happening in another corner of the party and the whole scene stops for a second. You watch with a held breath as within a fraction of a second, a cocky smile overtakes his face and his shoulders relax as he runs his hands through his dark hair, leaving with his friend and you quickly turn around to see the girl, still standing there, her arms wrapped around her body and a shocked expression on her face.

It takes you a second, but you manage to gently coax her to the hallway outside the apartment and Jason (unbeknownst to you) follows in your footsteps.

“Do you want me to call you a cab, or can I drop you off?”

She shakes her head and is about to say something before Jason interjects,

“I can take her home.”

Both you and the girl turn around and stare at him and you quickly shake your head, diverting your gaze away from him,

“It’s fine Todd, I’ve got this.”

He sighs.

“Will you just let me help her?”

“Well, I’ve already told you that I’ve got this under control, so I don’t see why you’re being so – “

“Oh - uh, you don’t have to worry about me, I can uh – go home myself.”

“No. I – uh mean, let us take you home just to make sure that everything will be okay.”

A meek smile overtakes her face as you squeeze her hand lightly and you offer a half-smile in return.

“Us?” Jason’s voice perks up and you turn around,

“Well, I don’t have a car. If you want, I can come with you and drop her off at her place but – “

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

His voice is clipped as he moves past you both, turning around the end of the hallway, leading you both to quickly follow him as well.

“Wait. I never asked you for your name.” You gently rest place your hand on her shoulder, making her stop and quietly giving her name,

“It’s Anna.”

...

By the time you’ve left Anna’s apartment complex, the small talk in the car dwindles down as you both sit, unnerved in the dimmed light of the car, the silence suffocatingly awkward. It doesn’t change until he pulls up to the curb, facing the entrance to your apartment building.

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet enough that you didn’t expect that he’d actually hear you. Let alone, grab your wrist before you leave, an incredulous expression on his shadowy face.

“Thanks? That’s it. You’re not going to say anything about what’s just happened?”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well neither do I. Look. Thanks for dropping me off and Anna. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

He doesn’t say anything and let’s go of his hold on your wrist before you quickly slip out of the car, not realising the force at which you push, slams the door shut, making you internally wince. But in your peripheral vision, you can see he doesn’t look at you, with his face staring forward and grip tight on the wheel.

His car’s gone further and turned the corner before you’ve even made it to the entrance doors, and you breath in the cold October air, letting the wind whip across your bare skin, goosebumps rising while standing in a pathetically insulating satin dress, your thoughts pummeling through your mind without fully understanding them and you sigh again.

“What did you say to him after that?”

“Babs, I’m already – “

You stop midway through your hushed conversation with Barbara to see a disheveled Jason noisily weave his way through the shelves, towards the table at the back of the library you had occupied with Barbara.

“Sorry, I – “

“If you weren’t really going to care about this assignment, you should’ve said something before showing up thirty minutes late.” You deadpan, voice steely and brows furrowed.

“Will you fucking listen to me?” he breathlessly cuts you off from saying anything else as he drops his books on the table.

“I’ll head out now.” Barbara mutters to you, squeezing your arm and slinging her bag over her shoulder before quietly slipping out of sight. You rested your chin in your propped arm, waiting for Jason to continue,

“Well, what’s your excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse. I was caught up in call with my father, it ended up being longer than I expected.”

You stare at him for a moment, his eyebrows also furrowed and hair sticking in all directions as he breathes heavily.

“Whatever, just complete the outline of notes I made for you.” You replied, pushing pieces of sticky notes and highlighted papers, that you had been picking at for the past half hour, towards his direction.

In about fifteen minutes, you’re both working in relative silence apart from the occasional remarks on the thesis and clarification on handwritings. There’s also been the perpetual looks on Jason’s part, and regardless of how much you try to block them, it itches at you to confront him about his irritating tendency.

“What Jason? What do you want now?”

His expression is firstly, taken aback, and then he coughs before asking,

“Did you ever talk to the girl after the party?”

You nod slowly, eyes still trained on the table, curving letters on colour-coded sticky notes before replying,

“Yeah, Stephanie’s their R.A, so I went and checked up on them the day after the party, she’s doing fine.”

You think that’s the end of his curiosity, but the pit of anxiety in your stomach and his next question, makes you internally want to bang your head against the alder wood table.

“And, uh, what about Beck?

Now, you stop writing with your pen and look up at him instead, resting your chin on your propped hand again, with a bored expression splayed on your face to try and detract from the internal anxiety, for both yourself and him.

“What about him?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and for a moment you think he might snap like he did in the car a few nights ago, but he only closes his eyes in frustration as you cock your head to one side.

“If you’re wondering if he’s going to face consequences for what he does – then no.”

There’s no verbal response except for a quizzical expression and you almost roll your eyes at him.

“I swear to God Jason, do you live under a fucking rock?”

“I just – look if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then fucking leave it.”

“Maybe if you’d like to stop yelling in the goddamn library, I can fucking say something.” You almost hiss at him, voice seething as you both glare at each other.

“Anyways, you probably know that Beck’s the son of the headmaster, yeah, yeah, anyways, he’s always been a fucking creep around parties, but he’s never like you know, ever gotten that far.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at your hushed whispers.

“Like, he just trails around parties looking to either fight someone or just annoy them the fuck out but usually someone stops him before he can do something worse. But, still doesn’t mean that he isn’t a fucking asshole anyways – and his dad and him have like the worst fucking relationship ever, he’s threatened to pull him out a bunch of times of school because he’s so shit.”

You lower your voice even further at the last past, that you’re not sure if he can even hear you.

“How do you know all this?”

You shake your head and trail your eyes back to the unfinished notes in front of you.

“That’s unimportant. He’s a whiny trust-fund brat and I don’t know why someone hasn’t punched him yet.”

That silences Jason for a moment. And the moment doesn’t last long before your phone’s alarm blares through the silence of the library and you quickly move to silence it and Jason eyes question you but you don’t respond, instead move to disorderly throw all the pens and highlighters into your bag and grab as many papers you could in one go before quickly whispering,

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait – “

“Look. I promised I’d help a friend out with something. I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”

Jason doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before you’ve flitted through the haze of bookshelves out of view.

“What happened to the guy your dad set you up with?”

“Darian?”

Babs doesn’t look up from her place on the vanity table as she touches up her makeup while you’re sat on the table with a plastic fork prodding the edges of one of the Halloween themed chocolate cakes Babs attempted to bake for the party.

“Yeah, the one with the hair, right?”

“The hair?”

She casts a pointed look at you through the mirror, but you only take in another forkful of chocolate icing before answering,

“Yeah, he had like the most voluminous hair I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Really? Well he had the most boring personality that I’ve ever fucking seen.”

She barely contains a smile at your comment while her own snarky comment elicits a snort from you but before you can say anything else, the frantic clicking of Stephanie’s (beloved) d’orsay heels against the linoleum floor followed by her quickly making her way into the dimly lit bedroom causes the room to fall into silence.

“You’re not ready yet?”

Her voice holds an accusatory tone and Babs quickly scoffs,

“I’m trying. But somebody keeps distracting me by asking unimportant questions.”

“Excuse me. I’m trying to be a good friend and keep up with my friend’s life.”

“Please. It sounds more like you want to know more about Darian.”

Before you can retort to her statement, Steph’s voice cuts in,

“Darian? Who’s that?”

“A guy I went on a date with a while ago.” Babs replies with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a scarlet lipstick tube from her make-up bag.

“ – That your dad set you up with.” You finish for her and Stephanie laughs.

“Since when is Professor Gordon a dating guru?”

“Since fucking never,” Babs replies, this time, twisting the cap of her lipstick. “It was just some guy in the forensic unit that he probably felt bad for being single and alone, but he shouldn’t have, ‘cause he didn’t have a fucking personality even if he tried.”

“Well that sucks. Anyways, are you both ready?” She pulls out her phone out of the bag she’d brought and starts typing.

“Or, you know, at least tried to be ready?” This time, she eyes you pointedly and you let out a noise of protest while stuffing another forkful of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“I’m sorry not all of us have devoted our whole fucking lives curating every Halloween costume known to man!”

This was something you’d noticed since you’d come back to Gotham and had been forced to attend Halloween parties – nearly everyone you’d encountered was practically obsessed with the celebration – and one of those people was Barbara. So much so, that every year she held a Halloween party and planned it more profusely than you’ve ever seen her do anything else. Her love also came with a heightened scrutiny for your enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the holiday.

Which was why you were currently sat, dressed in a black boat neck dress with a flimsy witch hat resting on your head as you decimated one of Babs’ rejected Halloween cakes – yet the worst part was that it was currently early December (midterms being pushed back made it impossible to have it in October) and the last thing you’d wanted was to attend this party but Babs had personally threatened to drag you there to complete her and Steph’s wish of doing a group costume.

“It’s only you, you know.” Steph retorts, head cocking to one side and blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go, let’s go!”

About three hours later, you’ve found yourself nursing a cup of cheap bar (the number, you’re pretty sure that you’ve lost count of), eyeing a clique of literature students, who are currently in the midst of an argument while you stand in the corner of the room, trying to avoid them recognizing you out of their peripheral vision.

“What’re you doing?”

“What the – “ You quickly turn around to see a tall figure dressed in black staring down at you quizzically, and then you realize that it’s Jason Todd.

“Todd, what the fuck do you want.” You hiss – not at all in the mindset to have a conversation with him at the moment – while trying to remain quiet enough so that you don’t attract any unwanted attention.

“I should be asking you,” He taunts back. “You’re the one sulking around the party and hiding in places.”

You don’t try to reply to his response but offer another front of argument that throws all sensibility of your previous claim of not wanting to fight Jason out of the window.

“I don’t fucking understand, why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re blocking everyone’s way.”

“Well, I’m not moving. So, they can find another way.”

“Are you fucking serious,” His voice raises. “You’re actually acting like a – “

“Shut up. Will you.” You hiss, pushing both of you further into the corner, so the bi-fold doors hide you better from the view of the group.

“What are you – “

“Morgan and his stupid friends keep trying to argue with me about some shit literature and won’t leave me alone.”

“Why?” There’s an edge to his voice which you pretend not to hear by avoiding his eyes.

“Beats me.”

He falters at the hostility of the comment – or lack thereof and you don’t say anything else but instead move to carefully peer pass the maple doors to scan for the group you’ve been avoiding amongst the mass of people in the room and as soon as you can’t see them you quickly move past Jason, to the to the cantilever staircase, without registering Jason’s footsteps trailing behind yours until you’ve reached the top and the overwhelming music and yelling from the party subdues a little and you let out a breath of relief before you see Jason also reaching the top of the stairs.

“Are you fucking following me?”

“No. Barbara and Stephanie were looking around for you and I was helping them.”

That lessens your anger a little and then confusion settles.

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologise to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and find yourself a little speechless.

“I – I meant why were they were looking for me but go on.”

“Oh,” You think you see his cheeks tint pink a little but with the dim lighting dancing shadows on his face, you’re not sure. “Well, I wanted to say sorry about the last class we had with Gordon.”

He takes a pause to slightly mess with his hair by running a hand through it.

“You were right about Bukowski – I – I don’t know why I said all of that shit.”

Looking back at this moment, you think it’s not your brightest because somehow his rather heartfelt confession falls almost deaf on your ears and somehow the narrative in your mind shifts to something else entirely.

“Is this some sort of joke, Todd?”

“What?”

“Did Morgan put you up to this shit? I know you and I don’t get along but siding with him is real fucking low, you know?”

“I – “

“I can’t fucking believe that you’re listening to all their bullshit and agreeing with them. It’s so – “

“No. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cuts you off and his voice raises considerably. “I’m trying to fucking apologize to you and all your doing is being a bitch again.”

That silences you, but he continues.

“You know, I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to understand what I did to fuck up with you, I’ve asked Barbara and Stephanie and – just, fuck, why did I listen to Dick?”

He mutters the last part, but you catch it anyway but still no response forms in your head at all, instead new questions pop-up as Jason runs another frantic hand through his ruined hair before quickly thundering down the stairs, leaving you…

You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling but cold is one of them as you pull the pathetic lace sleeves down your arm to try and warm yourself but nothing happens and maybe you feel your eyes too heavy to keep open as tears brim at the corners.

“Hey – are you okay?”

Babs’ voice causes your head to snap upwards as you watch her quickly scaling the stairs, eyebrows furrowed together, and you offer no response until she reaches the top and extends her arms to pull you into a hug.

“You were right. Halloween really isn’t your holiday.”

“Could you please stay behind for a moment?”

Gordon asks of you as you’re heading out of the hall, and the pit of anxiety resting in your stomach throughout the class, blooms further as you wait on the side until all the hall empties and its just you and Gordon.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, until he finally sighs and looks at you with a hard expression – one you’re all too familiar with from when you were little –

“Concerning Jason,”

You nod. Since your argument two days ago, you haven’t seen him, and the guilt seeped in farther when his spot well behind you remained empty the entire lesson.

“He’s pulled from your partnership.”

“W-what?”

“He came to talk to me, saying that he can’t continue to work with you anymore on any further projects, and the last one I paired you up on should definitively be the last.”

“Sir, I – “

“Look, I don’t like to meddle in the private lives of my students, but this situation is too tiring for me not to say that whatever problem you and Jason have; fix it. I always find both your work fascinating and that goes for the assignment you both submitted before and I simply cannot allow your own vanities to cloud judgment over the fact that you and Jason are paragons at literature and in my books, are too quick-witted to allow this talent to be lost amongst petty arguments.”

“I know, I – “

“So, I hope you’ll resolve this issue before next week’s lesson?”

“I – yes. Yes, I will.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

“Can I come in?”

The situation that you’re currently in rolls over you in waves of guilt and anxiety as you stand in front of Jason, in a beige coloured hallway as he idly stands with the apartment door halfway open, hesitant at your words or more so at how you’re standing in front of his apartment with worn boots and a heaving chest. You’d finally taken heed of the advice offered from Gordon, Steph and Babs and even consulted Dick and mulled it over with your own guilt before trekking all the way to his apartment.

“Sure,” His voice sounds removed – apathetic enough that you have to refrain from wincing, as he opens the door further to let you in. “Are you okay?”

You don’t hear him as your boots echo against the hardwood floor as you enter the apartment building and the sudden realization that this is the first time you’ve seen his apartment settles in as you eye the dimly lit space, with books scattered on the coffee – most of them are torn, something you’ve always found a little endearing, though you won’t admit it. The room is an oddly home-y mixture of warm beige's and deep browns that you would’ve kept staring at if he hadn’t called out your name again.

“What?”

“I asked, are you okay? You’re red in the face and panting.”

“Oh, oh, yeah, I walked all the way here and the elevator was out of service, so I used the stairs.”

“Why did you walk, nearly twenty blocks?” He furrows his brows and you let out of a puff of annoyance.

“I – listen, I don’t want to argue with you,” You take a step closer and calm yourself before starting. “You – you were right, I was being a complete and total bitch to you without reason at that party and before that. It’s just – “

You stop, and release a chuckle before awkwardly asking, “I’m gonna need a drink to get through this, do you have any?”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, not as drunk as you need to be, but enough that it gives you courage to finally stop beating around the bush and talk to him so you move to see him also standing facing the open windows to the evening sky, the sun setting against the horizon as dusk settles and you motion for him to sit on the floor as you are and he slowly complies.

“Look, I know I’ve been hostile towards you since – “

“Why?” He interrupts, not looking at you and you sputter a little. “Why have you been so hostile to me.”

“Well, you should know, none of it was your fault – well, not directly.” You sigh.

“College was my chance to start over. You don’t need to know all of the other shit, but I just thought that this whole experience would make everything okay and I wouldn’t need to fight for every single thing in my life just to end up being sub-par. And, it was going great.” You slightly chuckle to try not to choke on your words.

“That was, until you came along with your prodigal capabilities in literature and it felt like everything was falling apart again. Because somehow, suddenly, I wasn’t Gordon’s favourite anymore and I wasn’t at the top of the class – and somehow, I wasn’t enough.” Your voice is a little more choked now as you kept looking forward, even though Jason had started watching you now.

“It just was like my entire belief system just got turned upside down.” You release a breath and let the silence settle after your words.

“Fuck, I just unloaded a crap-ton of shit onto you, and you probably don’t understand any of it. I mean, I’m drunk so I don’t understand either.” You laugh and try not to cry, even though you’re pretty sure you will.

“No, I think I understand sort of, too,” He replies, voice softer than you expected and you’re more surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re not completely wrong about the whole belief system thing there, you know, Gordon’s classes meant the same thing to me too and I just wanted to enjoy something without having to fight my way for it but boy, did you make that hard.”

A breathy chuckle escapes you as he stops talking and you both sit in the silence until he pipes up again,

“If we’re trying to mend this whole thing then maybe you should want this back too,” His voice is cryptic as you furrow your brows in confusion and stare at him with a lost expression as he stands up to walk away and disappear into the hallway, out of your sight before quickly returning with something clasped in his hand while you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You dropped this in my car when we were heading back from the party with that whole thing with Anna. Dick found it the next morning and had a whole field day about it.”

In his palm, rests a single earring piece shaped like an olive branch which you thought you’d lost in the chaos of the party and you almost laugh.

“You know, I’m gonna pretend this isn’t too creepy and thank you for giving it back.”

“I was trying to give it back to you but you never wanted to have a single conversation with me so,” You roll your eyes before picking up the earring and hooking it back through your ear even though you didn’t have the other one on.

“Right, I get it, I suck.”

That causes him to laugh as he settles back down again next to you and he doesn’t look at you before saying,

“No, you’re not as annoying as I originally thought.”

You echo a ‘hey’ and lightly punch him and the silence envelopes you both – softly, and there’s a moment of peace you think you’ve both settled in and it feels nice.

le fin

(pt.2 will come)

#dc #dc fanfic #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batfam #batman imagines #jason todd imagines #red hood imagines #dc fic #dick grayson imagine #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #fanfic #my fanfic #bruce wayne #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n

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lunarastrobabe · 3 years

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Leon Kennedy x F!Reader: The Missing Piece (Pt 2)

“Leon, come on, let’s go out. We haven’t spent time together in so long.” You groaned, holding his hand and trying to pull him from the couch where he was sitting, working on some reports from the previous outbreak you both had survived. Yet again.

“I have to get this report finished [Y/N], you know that.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling tired and drained, he had been cooped up in the apartment all week and he needed to get some sun.

“Come on baby, you gotta get out sometime.” You slumped into the spot next to him on the couch, slinging an arm around him. You planted a kiss to his soft scratchy cheek, which made a smile appear on his face. He closed his laptop and slid it off his lap and onto the oak coffee table, moving into a comfortable position.

“Okay, okay, fine,” He let out a chuckle and looked at you through his bangs that covered his beautiful eyes. You moved his hair out of his sight and they sparkled at you, feeling a wave of love hit you every time he looked at you. “Where is it you want to go?” He asked, sinking into your touch and leaving a kiss on the palm of your hand.

“I was thinking we could go get some coffee and then go for a walk on the beach. Considering how sunny and warm it is today.” You said, smiling at him as he pulled you closer, breathing in his natural scent and his minty breath.

“Sounds like a great idea, love,” He planted a kiss to your lips before tapping your legs to get up. “Let’s get going.” He got out of the crease that he left in the couch and grabbed his wallet and his keys, sliding on his shoes. He always looked so handsome even if he did look exhausted from not getting much sleep. Nevertheless, he always made time for you.

The car ride to the coffee shop was full of laughs, smiles and sneaky kisses at the red lights. Pulling up to the cafe getting a huge whiff of coffee, sweet pastries and the flowers that surrounded the building. Pushing the door open, letting the little bell go off at the top of the door, you went to go figure out your order, Leon definitely needed some serious caffeine.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom,” He said, kissing your cheek and giving you his wallet. “Order whatever you want, I’m paying.” He left with a smile on his face, flicking the hair from his eyes.

Just as you were about to order yours and Leon’s drinks, you noticed someone or something tap your shoulder. It wasn’t Leon, you shook off the thought that it could’ve been a zombie or a licker, remembering your past with Leon in Raccoon City. ‘You’re being stupid [Y/N]. Zombie’s don’t tap your shoulder like humans do. They eat you instead.’ You thought to yourself, giggling at the little comment in your head. Turning around you see a guy, he had dark hair that was spiked up with a ridiculous amount of wax, he was tall, handsome, very tanned from the sunshine and had hazel coloured eyes.

“Can I help you?” You asked kindly, wondering why a random stranger wanted to talk to you, but you thought, ‘maybe he’s just being polite’.

“Sorry, you’re [Y/N], right?” He said pointing to you, a smile on his face. You nodded in response, “Yes, that’s me. But, who are you?” You giggled nervously, noticing the awkward tension between you two was unbearable.

“It’s me, Derek, from high school remember? We used to cause chaos together with the professors.” Your mind had that light bulb moment, because of the suppressed memories from Raccoon City and the events leading after that that you had went through, you completely forgot about your crazy teen years and your old friends. This guy. Oh man, this guy was the ultimate popular jock, all the girls fell for him, honestly, you can’t even imagine how many girls he has slept with. He always seemed to love the attention he got from women, because of his good looks, his tanned skin from being in California for so long, the swimmers body. He was never your type, too predictable. Instead you were just close friends. Ish.

“Oh my god, hi! How are you?” You asked surprised and giving him a hug, a hug that lingered for too long, then pulling back to look at you.

“I’m-I’m great! It’s been a long time! You want to go sit down and catch up?” He gestured to an empty booth near the window.

“Sure! I just gotta wait for Leon to come back.” You said pointing over to the bathroom not realising Leon was standing behind you, watching you and your friend talk. From a distance he raised an eyebrow wondering who was chatting up his girl. Shoving his hand in his jean pockets walking over and snaking an arm around your waist pulling you close, a little tighter than usual, but you thought nothing of it. His eyes narrowed at the tanned man, a couple years older than you. Jealousy was already filling his body, burning sensation in his chest.

“Oh hey you,” You smiled looking up at Leon. “This is Derek, an old friend from high school.” You said introducing them to each other. You could tell they didn’t like each other already, the tension could be cut with a knife through butter. Leon wasn’t known for competing for a woman, but when it came to you, he gets protective, he gets jealous and it’s sometimes infuriating because when you get jealous about him and Ada’s past, he just brushes it under the rug.

“Hi sweetheart,” Leon planted a kiss on your lips then turned to your friend who was watching, trying not to laugh. “Hello. Derek.” He said gritting through his teeth in a fake smile. Derek just smiled, giving you his new phone number. “Call me sometime, it’ll be fun.” He winked and said goodbye to you, ignoring Leon as if he wasn’t there. You took the piece of paper sliding it into your back pocket. Leon looked pissed off, his shoulders raised. The waitress calling you over for your coffee’s, you noticed Leon looked uncomfortable, something was bothering him and you didn’t have a clue what the problem was. You just assumed it was his exhaustion catching up with him. Sighing you passed him his drink and took a sip of your own, the toffee flavour hitting your tongue giving you a sweet sensational feeling.

“Is everything ok Leon?” You asked, taking his hand in yours, his hand was clenched into a fist but relaxed it when you touched his skin, his shoulders lowering. Pulling him to an empty booth you sat down, crossing your legs over you turned your body to face his. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, especially when it was something so petty.

“Mmhm.” He mumbled, his leg bouncing up and down, sipping his coffee but not looking at you.

“Leon, baby, what is it?” You leaned forward to see if he’d look at you. He exhaled slowly, letting out a deep breath.

“It’s him.” He said hoping you’d realise who he was talking about. Your brows furrowed in confusion. He rarely showed jealousy unless it was someone who he really had a huge problem with.

“Derek?” You leaned back in the booth, taking another sip of coffee with a surprise look on your face, peering at him over the coffee cup.

He shrugged, “Maybe ..” in a quiet tone, scratching the back of his neck, hoping you wouldn’t get mad. You cleared your throat, a little irritated, only because a year ago, you and Leon had split up for a while because Ada was still in the picture.

“Oh Leon, I-, seriously?” You groaned. “He’s just an old friend, nothing happened in the past with me and Derek, and even if it did, it’s old news.” Hoping to reassure him and calm him down. It didn’t work. Luckily no one could hear you two speaking due to the loud, but fun music from the speakers in the shop.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” He spoke quietly, swirling the coffee around with a little wooden stick. “I mean, that wink he gave you too?” He rolled his eyes. Now he knew how you felt with Ada and his history with her. You felt bad for him, you felt sympathy for him, he just wants to be loved, truly loved.

“Alright,” you sighed, you wanted to cut him some slack, he has been under a lot of stress and it’s not his fault he’s a little worried. “I can understand how it makes you feel, remember when I felt that way with you and Ada?” You reached your hand up to his face and softly stroked his stubbly cheek. Your touch always make him weak at the knees. His heart skipping a beat every time you touched him. “But I can promise you, I wasn’t even going to call him. Why would I want to regain a friendship with somebody who only wants to get into my panties?” You laughed a little.

“That’s how you met me isn’t it?” Letting out a small laugh with a smirk forming on his face.

“Mmkay, I see your point. But I fell in love with you, there’s a difference. And you’re always my number one.” Pushing his bangs out of his eyes. A pink, rosy, colour appeared on his cheeks.

“I love you too.” He put his large hand on your thigh and caressed the fabric of your jeans with his thumb, pulling you closer to his body and put his left arm around your shoulders.

“So, what kind of panties are you wearing today?” He whispered in your ear.

You were very lucky to have him.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #resident evil #re vendetta

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insufferableprotagonistpoll · 2 months

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Round 2

Propaganda why Dean Winchester is insufferable:

Really mean to Cas (called him a child, zero respect for him, calls him family and casts him out when the angels are looking for him), and an absolute dick to Jack (threatening to kill him CONSTANTLY)

>Was a misogynist (loved to call women skanks, bitches, hoes)

>Used gay as an insult multiple time during the show's run (idc if he's gay an homophobic, that's still insulting)

>Beat up his brother for being possessed

>Beat up his brother for losing his soul (not his brother's fault)

>Used dubious consent to get his brother possessed in a different unrelated possession incident after possession was being used (badly...this is supernatural after all) as a metaphor for SA

>Threatened to murder his brother when he was hallucinating (yay we aren't ableist)

>Locked a child up in a box

>Threatened to kill the child he locked up in a box

>Made a creepy, sexual comment about a barely-legal high school girl

>Got the woman and kid he was living with memory-wiped

misogynistic scumbag. theres also a few different times that dean finds teenagers sexy with the most recent and prominent example that i can recall being the scooby doo crossover episode in season 13 where hes super into daphne who in the version they chose for the episode is 15-16 and is interacting with her as if shes a real person cause they got magicked into the episode. he treats everyone around him like shit and the only time the narrative agrees that thats a bad thing is when he has the mark of cain put on him and hes acting no differently than he does usually its just now acknowledged that hes treating others like shit. ive been rewatching the show for shits and giggles with a friend and wow he really does not treat anyone well but i wanna focus on how he treats sam for a second cause dude's hobby seems to be ignoring what his brother wants and lying to sam about doing stuff that directly concerns him the demon blood and souless things are reasonable cause those were both Bad for sam but theyre still part of a wider pattern and the most prominent example of this being when dean tricks sam into letting gadreel possess him and actually gaslights sam about it with the whole ordeal ending when its revealed gadreel lied about who he was and while possessing sam murders a friend of theirs. his voice is just also stupid as fuck im sorry this is just petty but he just sounds like hes trying so hard to be gruff n intimidating but he just sounds like a kid pretending to be batman

Dean’s list of sins is crazy long because of how long the show ran, but the key thing for me is that post-locking Sam in the bunker (season 4 I think?), I just can’t enjoy their relationship anymore. I normally love their sibling dynamic, but Dean’s ultimate worst past-the-point-of-no-return moment for me was demonizing (pun intended) his little brother for being “addicted” to demon blood, which only happened because of a series of events that were either Dean’s or someone else’s fault, not Sam’s. I also really dislike how the fandom treats Dean like this angel (pun intended) who has done no wrong and even tries to justify the MULTIPLE times he’s beaten up and otherwise abused his little brother. Canon Dean is like the polar opposite of fanon Dean: he’s homophobic and racist (jokes about a Black man being sexually assaulted in prison), misogynistic (take a shot every time he calls a woman a slur and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning), and abusive.

Propaganda why Erika Shinohara is insufferable:

Doormat of a character

Impulsive liar, would rather take candid picture of a boy she didn't know than to admit friends that she's single, Naive to the point of being stupid, worst masochist rep since the 50 Shades of Grey protag

#dean winchester #supernatural #erika shinohara #ookami shoujo to kuro ouji #insufferable protagonist poll #insufferable protagonist tournament #tournament poll

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otaku4life16 · 2 years

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I’m In An Unhappy Marriage. But I’ll grin and Bare It For Them (Loki Prompt)

This story idea is up for adoption. I will not be writing this. this is the full extent of my writing prowess.

Thor and Loki go through and arranged marriage to unite their kingdoms in peace. Loki is desperate to make this marriage go well for jotunheim because without it his realm is doomed. Meanwhile Thor is unhappy that he was forced to get married to a Jotun and decides to take it all out on Loki(mostly just lots of verbal abuse, school yard bullying, and neglect).

Married life is hard for Loki: he is forced to wear clothing that has been feminized, unable to leave the realm, not allowed visits from his family, all the rules thor has placed on him (such as never showing his hideous face), he doesnt have any friends, has to always act like a perfect queen/wife,and since thor doesnt respect him and the royal couple barly ever talks to him no one really respects him or treats him like a prince. Its no wonder that are young prince gets more depressed as time goes on.

Until one day Thor decides he rather just hang out with his friends and runs away to join the Avengers. When the Avengers finally have to visit asgard they are shocked that Thor has a husband and a baby on the way(or one already here). After doing a little digging they find out just how horribly Thor treats Loki and decide to step in. Because this isn't right and nobody deserves such an unhappy marriage.

also loki is really depressed in a land that doesnt know a thing about mental health and he got married to thor young

please let me know if you want to write this story. also you dont have to use every idea

Thor is a giant jerk in the beginning of the story. the reason being is that he grew up knowing that he would have an arranged marriage but he always expected it to be with a beautiful women and not a male monster. So Thor decides to take all his frustrations and disappointment out on Loki. He insults him, shoves him around, trips him, pulls his hair, ignores and neglects him, has mistresses, hides his things, and makes comments about him to other people. So It's basically petty playground bullying. It's all because Thor didn't have his life changing banishment to Midguard where a few lessons got pummeled into his head. So yeah Thor has a lot of things he needs to learn before this marriage works out.

Loki decides to marry Thor to help out Jotunheim. Without the casket his realm is falling apart: Building crumbles, food is in short supply, and the weather is never right (it is either colder then it ever should be out they suddenly get a giant heat wave) and what magic they do have can only fix things for a short while. And while trading with other realms would help them (they have lots of jewels in their snowy mountains) Odin made it almost impossible to trade with other places after they lost the war to them. So because of all this Loki knows that all of his people are counting on him to make this marriage work. That is because Odin has promised to return the casket to jotunheim(but only after a specific amount of time has accrued or Loki has produced one/two/three heirs). And Odin needs to be shown that Loki would make a good future queen. that means that Loki has to do several things, like: being calm when Thor (or someone else) does something stupid, help with disputes within the land, studying everything under the sun, and all in all just acting like the perfect Queen.

With all of these rules and with so much on the line Loki is too afraid to act out against Thor or anyone else whenever they are being cruel to him. Instead he bites his tongue and decides to keep quiet until the casket is secured. After that happens he will finally stand up for himself and give everyone a piece of his mind(especially thor)

when Loki arrives on Asgard for the wedding he was wearing a veil (its a marriage tradition on jotunheim) (Got this idea from CypressTiger. Go read their story). After the marriage ceremony ended Loki was about to take of the veil when Thor stopped him. He told Loki that he needs to keep the veil on at all times so that nobody has to witness such an Ugly face (even though Loki is actually the most gorgeous being Thor will ever see underneath it)

To keep Thor happy Loki complies with his demands and continues to wear the veil and other veils since.

When Thor decides to leave Asguard to hang out with the Avengers Loki was either pregnant or had already had the kid (shows how great of a father Thor is). (Thor never even showed up to the castle much less Asguard during the birth of his own child.

The Avengers don't even know that Thor is married. And Thor doesn't care that he is. He goes parting with his friends and he has sex with woman.

Until one day something happens(maybe a villain, Thanos, Amora, or some dark magical force) makes the Avengers need to go to Asguard for help. When they get there the Avengers finally learn that Thor is a terrible husband(and maybe father). And decide to try and help fix it. Because this marriage is just an unhealthy mess at this point and the only one winning is Odin. Together the Avengers will force some knowledge and common decency into Thor's head. And just maybe Loki will finally get the happy and healthy marriage he deserves.

-maybe just have Loki and his kid/kids in his arms or them standing next to him by the throne when the royal family formally welcome the Avengers to Asguard.

-probably have the older kid hate thor for being a bad dad and for putting his Modi in this situation

-and maybe having Odin telling Loki how nice and patient he is when Thor acts like a fool and runs away. And Loki just smiles and says it okay and its all part of his duty to watch over him and stuff.(you can practically smell the BS)

-Thor probably ends up in a loving marriage with Loki in the end but he doesn't have to. Loki could end up getting married to one or two of the Avengers instead

Again this is a story idea and I will not be writing it. This is about all the writing I can do. But if you would like to adopt this story idea please let me know. Also please let me know what you think of this idea I wrote.

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

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Dating Levi - Attack on Titan

Kinda weird assortment (head-canony), but here ya go. I made this like last year when I was obsessed with this man, so I thought I’d post it. Turns into an imagine at the end.

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You love Levi’s smile. You don’t see it often, but it makes your whole life brighter every time he does.

Levi loves your hands. When you joined the Survey Corps, your hands were so soft and smooth. Somehow, they’ve still kept their smoothness and Levi takes every opportunity to hold them.

You love that Levi lets you vent to him. No matter how stupid and petty the thing you’re upset about, he always listens to you.

You love when Levi calls you “brat.” Even if he means it as an insult, you still find it endearing.

You annoy Levi so that he calls you “brat.”

Levi loves that you love cleanliness. You make sure your room/desk/house/etc. is always tidy. But he also loves you can get your hands dirty when you need to.

You and Levi are so similar in the way you always take your job seriously and really care for your team. You two make a deadly combination when it comes to killing Titans.

Levi is not an emotional person, so whenever he comes to you for emotional support and allows himself to be vulnerable with you, you fall in love with him even more.

Levi always worries about you whenever you two have to split up for missions. He knows fully well that you can handle yourself, but that worry is always in the back of his mind and he always thinks of when he lost Farlon and Isabel.

You two always train together. At first, Levi would always kick your ass. Slowly but surely, you learned all his moves and techniques, so it really shocked him when you used his own moves against him and knocked him on his ass one day.

Levi used to go easy on you during training. But since you grew stronger, you two never pull your punches and most of the time the fight ends in a tie.

You love waking up in Levi’s arms.

You always admire his face when he sleeps. He looks peaceful and not angry.

Levi rolls his eyes whenever he wakes up to see you staring at him, but he can never help the small smile and blush that forms on his face.

However, you’re the opposite. You look like you can kill a bitch when you sleep.

You’re the only person that can get Levi flustered. And you always love to do it at the most inappropriate times, mostly when you’re with company.

Levi always makes you pay for flustering him whenever you get back to the privacy of your bedroom.

You both get nightmares, a lot. Most of your nightmares are memories of seeing your family get eaten by Titans, and sometimes Levi. Levi is pretty much the same, but about you and his team and sometimes himself.

When you get a nightmare, you usually wake up in a cold sweat and panic for a few seconds before you realize it was just a dream. You never wake up Levi because you didn’t want him to worry about you. But one night, you had a nightmare so bad that you woke up crying and screaming. Levi immediately woke and comforted you. And from then on, whenever you wake up from a nightmare, screaming or not, Levi always wakes up to make sure you’re okay.

When Levi gets a nightmare, he usually mumbles and whimpers in his sleep and he can’t wake up from the nightmare. Most of the time, it wakes you up. You always make sure to wake him up and assure him it was just a dream. He would nod and pull you into his chest, not letting you go until he falls asleep. Whenever he dreams Farlon and Isabel, he usually cries when he wakes.

You both rarely get into arguments. On those rare occasions, it’s usually about who gets to kill a Titan or who goes on what mission. Those never last more than a few minutes.

At first, Levi hated you. He thought you were annoying and useless. You were only made part of his team because Erwin forced him to take you on. He quickly realized he underestimated you when you killed two Titans without a hitch on your first mission.

Then as time went on, Levi started to hate you again. He hated the way you made him feel. Whenever he’d see you smile or laugh, he’d get a warm fuzzy feeling. He hated it. He didn’t want to care about you so much, but he learned to embrace it.

Your first impression of Levi was that he was kind of a douchebag. You recognized that he was an amazing Titan killer and leader and you respected him, but he was so cold and unnerving to you. When you realized he despised you, you made it your mission to get him to like you. It worked somehow.

You and Levi aren’t very touchy feely, and you both aren’t a fan of PDA. To everyone who didn’t know you, you guys only looked like acquaintances.

Levi is extremely protective of you though. Whenever someone is dumb enough to flirt with you, they end up getting a punch in the nose.

You know Levi is adored by many people, just look at him. How could they not? Many people try to throw themselves at him. You’re not the jealous type, but it does get annoying when it gets in the way of your work.

Levi actually finds it really attractive that you trust him so much that you never get jealous when men and women try to flirt with him. Of course, Levi would never cheat. He finds it more annoying when people flirt with him than you do.

You’re not the type of couple that says “I love you” to each other a lot. But when you do, it’s rare. Actions speak louder than words to you guys.

Surprisingly, Levi was the one who said “I love you” first.

You were with Levi’s team when the female Titan showed up. You tried to save Petra, but the Titan pulled one of your wires on your mobility gear and you crashed hard into a tree.

Before you blacked out, you saw Petra get killed, Eren turn into his Titan form quickly after.

When Levi went back to his team, he saw you laying below the tree you crashed into. His heart almost stopped. You looked dead. He quickly went to your side, and sure enough, you were still breathing...barely.

You woke up after the whole mission was over. You woke up in a bed, and your whole body was aching so bad you wished you didn’t wake up. Levi was also by your bedside, he never left when the group got back. Bunch of broken ribs, concussion, laceration of your right arm, fractured wrist, and a broken leg.

You were extremely lucky.

Levi shakily exhaled a breath of relief when he saw your eyes open. You saw he looked exhausted. “You look like shit.” You said, failing to keep your voice lighthearted.

Levi rolled his eyes when he heard your comment. “You should look in a mirror.”

Levi was so worried about you. He thought he’d have to deal with losing another person he cared about. He couldn’t keep his feelings anymore, too worried you would die not knowing how he felt about you.

“I love you, Y/N. So, so much. I was so scared that you’d die, that you’d leave me. I was scared that you’d die not knowing how I feel. So, I love you brat. I love you.”

The sudden deceleration of his love was a bit overwhelming. You never heard him talk about love, especially not about a person. You knew he cared about you, a lot. But this was the first time he ever expressed it out loud.

With no hesitation or doubt in your voice, you said, “I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

🥱

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi imagine #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman imagine

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