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buckymorelikefuckme · 9 months ago

Text

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

❀ part two

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fic #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff

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adaelines · 2 years ago

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wrote this whilst i was playing re4 bc i couldnt stop looking at leon's arms and everytime he kicked an enemy i wanted him on his KNEES warning for smut! afab reader but gender neutral, public sex, he goes down on you whilst youre hiding from enemies, careful he spits, dom leon who lives for making you feel good

Leon always was prettiest on his knees.

Wide, gunmetal blue eyes staring up at you, so full of love and adoration it’s almost overwhelming. The position and expression alone tells you how much he loves you, how much he wants to be on his knees for you. Despite his strength, just how easy it would be for him to overpower you and switch your positions, he still wanted nothing more than to be knelt before you, worshipping his lover the way he felt they deserved to be worshipped. He'd spend hours between your thighs, hours making you feel good, no matter the situation.

It's how you found yourself here. In the upstairs of a rough, almost destroyed house. You could hear the cultists downstairs, hear them searching for you both, and if either of you so much as moved you were terrified that they'd be alerted to your position above them. And yet Leon just couldn't help himself, not when you'd spent the last hour fighting and relying on one another to stay alive. It always riled him up, always made his heart beat fast and drool form under his tongue. Nothing got to him the way you did when you fought, when you protected him and he was able to protect you.

The moment you were both alone, even when you technically weren't with the cultists downstairs still looking for you, he was immediately on you like you were his prey, like he'd been hunting you for hours and could finally go in for the kill. You should have known, with his smug little grin and the way he stood ever so slightly closer to you than usual, that something was going to happen. You just never thought you'd end up here, back against an almost broken wooden wall, the oh so powerful Leon Kennedy on his knees in front of you, looking up at you as if you had put the sun and moon in his sky.

"Leon," you hissed, teeth gritted tight and the hand in his hair gripping onto him, "Are you serious? Do you want to get us killed?"

"C'mon, sweet thing, as if this would be a bad place to die," Leon's voice was low, full of a rasp that could only come from his desire from you.

"Oh, in a random village in Spain full of cultists? Real romantic, Kennedy."

"From down here, I can't think of a better place," The grin on his face was wide, full of mischief, and you couldn't miss the way his eyelids fluttered when you gently tugged on his locks, nor could he miss the soft smile that briefly appeared on your face at his words.

With a quiet sigh, you leant your head back against the wall, biting your lip.

"Fine, but please… make it quick, Leon, I'll fuck you properly once we're out of here, I promise," His grin only widened at your words, his hands quickly coming up to shove your pants down just enough for his face to fit. He didn't have the patience to fully remove them, once he saw your underwear, he couldn't wait any longer to dig his face as far as it would go, as close as he could be to your weeping core.

With his nose pressed against the wet spot on your underwear, he couldn't help but let out a low moan. His eyes were shut, eyebrows furrowed like he was truly enjoying himself. Just by being this close, feeling your heat and smelling your wetness, his hips bucked up in his kneeling position, hands holding your thighs so tightly you thought they might bruise. He always did love leaving proof of his love on you, bruises of his hand and fingerprints left wherever he could.

When you could feel his nose against your clit, feel the way he mouthed at the wet spot in your underwear like he was a man starved, you had to quickly bring the hand that wasn't in his hair up to cover your mouth. You didn't want to let go of him, but you also couldn't let yourself make any noise. It wasn't fair that a simple touch felt so good, not when anything above a quiet whimper would get you both caught, get you both killed. Leon didn't seem to care though, the way his hands rushed to shove your underwear down to join your pants around your thighs, the devious grin on his face proving that he didn't plan on stopping or slowing down any time soon.

The way that Leon's tongue felt on your clit almost killed you, the hand in his hair tightening enough for him to let out a low groan against you, the hands on your hips tightening. Your other hand was still clamped tight over your mouth, keeping any noise you almost made at bay. This didn't make Leon happy though, even with cultists downstairs, he wanted to hear you as much as he could. One of his hands moved to the underside of your thigh, bringing it up over his shoulder as much as it could against the stretch of your pants. His grip was tight, holding you against him as close as he could, as if he wanted to become one with you, wanted to suffocate against you. Maybe he was serious about dying here, just by you instead of the people currently trying to kill you.

His tongue was quick against you, flattened so he could swipe from your hole to your clit. He took moments to focus on each, suckling on your clit and shoving his tongue into your hole as deep as he could. Eyes open now, he couldn't look away from your expression. He wanted to see everything, see you desperately try to keep your voice down, see you come apart simply from his mouth. It was always a beautiful sight, one that Leon held dear, making you cum was his favourite thing and nothing felt as good as knowing you felt good.

Pulling away slowly, Leon made sure to keep eye contact as he spat on your clit, grinning as he slowly watched it dribble down your cunt, onto your hole. He used his tongue before it could go any further, fucking it into you as deep as he could reach. If he couldn't cum inside you, he would have to do with at least knowing his spit was as deep as it could go, shoved inside you with his tongue and fingers, which he quickly brought to your hole when he started sucking on your clit once more. It was overwhelming, fingers in your hole and tongue on your clit, the hand in his hair was gripping so tight you'd have to apologise later, but trying to stay quiet when a man like Leon was giving you this much attention was hard, and you needed to focus on something. He always loved it when you pulled his hair anyway, so you knew he wouldn't complain at the sharp ache that it left on his scalp, not when you'd sooth it over with gentle touches later.

His touch and tongue were brutal against you, so harsh and so much that you could swear he was trying to kill you. When you let out a whimper that was slightly too loud, he pulled away, eyes stern as he stared up at you.

"Make a noise and I won't let you finish," His voice was just as stern as his gaze, but undeniably full of his need for you. Raspy and low, desperate. "Won't let you finish for a whole week. Won't you be good for me, pretty thing?"

You couldn't help but whine at his words, lower and quieter this time, and the grin he gave was downright devilish. He gently patted your thigh, as if praising a dog, and pressed a gentle kiss on your clit before going back to the rough abuse he was giving it earlier. It wasn't fair, it was so much, and you were so close. Your legs were shaking, back arched against the wood and you swore your face was starting to hurt with the way you clamped your hand over your mouth. It'd be hard to explain just how you got a hand shape bruise over your mouth, but you couldn't care ar all. Not when Leon's mouth was about to make you cum, obvious in the way you were almost spasming against his hold.

"Cum for me, sweetheart, come on… want you to cum for me now…" voice quiet, almost a whisper but so so loud in your mind, all you could focus on. It wasn't a request anymore, he was demanding, almost a threat that dared you to not listen. His tone was serious, the one he used when he wanted you to know he meant business, would punish you if you didn't obey.

It wasn't hard either, not when his assault on your cunt was so focused, not when he knew every way to make you feel good and easily took advantage of it, when the thigh resting on his shoulder was tight against his cheek, the hand in his hair tight. You came with a muffled moan, head threw back and willing yourself to not scream with just how overwhelming everything was, grinding against Leon's face, using it for your own pleasure as you finished. He helped you through the orgasm, fingers and tongue slowing but not stopping, and when you pushed his head away out of sensitivity, he pressed one last kiss to your clit and gave you another devious grin.

''That's it, pretty, you're doing so good for me...''

He would absolutely be doing this again, and you would absolutely be getting him back for it.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #god the things i would do to this man.

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crownpastelyellow · 14 days ago

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So I wrote something for the Solidaritek football AU @bidoofenergy has made because I have been severely unwell about them.

I recommend reading through the posts before reading this but it also works without prior knowledge of anything.

On my knees for you

Pairing: Solidaritek

Tags and Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Oral Sex, Mild Voyerism, Mutual Pining

Length: 6.5k words

Summary: Tango is a retired football (soccer) player who now works as a sports commentator/interviewer and Jimmy is a popular football player. After spending way too long pining after each other they finally get it on.

A/N: Also fair warning, I do not know much about football. I am not a sports person. Touch this with a good amount of suspension of disbelief please. I just got too unwell about them and it needed an outlet <3

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut

Jimmy’s crush on Tango has slowly been escalating and he is very sure that the tension has been building between the two of them.

It started with conversations before interviews and Jimmy smiling brightly at Tango, whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned into accidental touches, bumping into one another on occasion and, much to the dismay of Jimmy’s teammates, he had not shut up for weeks after Tango once grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way from someone.

At this point, Jimmy can’t deny that he craves more, so he started hanging around after interviews whenever he could, he learned all about Tango’s career, and tried his hardest to memorize anything that could make him stand out to Tango when their work made them cross paths.

But so far, luck was strictly against Jimmy. Whenever he decided to build up the courage to talk to Tango there was always some sort of interruption and he never got more than a few words in, in private.

Today though, might be Jimmy’s lucky day; they were the last ones in the interview room, Jimmy just awkwardly hanging around as Tango picks up some of his notes, not aware of the other one still in the room.

This is Jimmy’s chance. Grian was not here to make fun of him for being a mess around Tango, his coach had already left and nobody else could demand Tango’s attention. No, today he would be cool and charm the commentator with… Something. He can figure it out along the way. Maybe he could just ask Tango out for a drink, or he could- “Oh, hey, Jimmy, you’re also still here.” Tango says, smiling at Jimmy, instantly making him forget anything he had planned on saying.

And from there it only just gets worse. “You did well out there today”, Tango casually praises Jimmy, whose mouth opens and closes again till he eventually lets out a “Thanks”, that is just a bit too strangled, earning a chuckle from the other man who isn’t even looking at Jimmy anymore, more focused on his bag and papers.

As Tango finishes packing up, Jimmy shakes his head to get out of his stupor. If he doesn’t shoot his shot now, he might miss yet another chance. Jimmy makes his way towards the other man, a confident grin on his face. He just needs to be smooth now.

“Hey, Tango,I really enjoyed the interview today, your questions are always the best. I wanted to ask -” Jimmy says, the words coming out just a little bit too quickly, and he walks with just a little bit too much bounce in his step. His foot catches on a cable that wasn’t properly covered up, and he trips, his large frame falling right into Tango’s arms, who, to Jimmy’s absolute delight, manages to catch him with ease.

Jimmy is too awestruck at being so close to Tango, feeling his strong arms around his torso, to consider being embarrassed, or to move away. Instead he just looks up at Tango, unable to tear his gaze away from his lips.

“Careful there, buddy” Tango says with a laugh but Jimmy can see the other man gulp.

Maybe, just maybe, Jimmy hasn’t fucked this whole thing up just yet.

If this doesn’t work out how he imagines that he is going to be in deep shit but Jimmy cannot stop himself at this point.

As he closes his eyes, not wanting to see a potential expression of dread on Tango’s face, he finds his footing again and leans himself up again, just enough so that his lips meet Tango’s.

For a moment, Jimmy is convinced that he has just made a huge mistake, one that could, in the worst case, affect his whole career. A mistake he made because he was thinking with his dick again instead of -

Tango kisses him back.

At first the movement of his lips is barely noticeable to Jimmy who was so focused on how warm Tango is, how his beard tickles against Jimmy’s face and how strong his arms are.

Jimmy might be a little bit overeager at this point, but he leans further in. Standing up straight now, Tango’s arms still remain wrapped around him, Jimmy is a bit more than a head taller now but still leaning down into the kiss.

His heart is pounding in his chest and Jimmy doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain short-circuiting, but when they find Tango’s body, they instantly begin to wander.

——————————————————————————————————

They know they can’t stay in the small interview room, too many people might walk in, with all the equipment that is still in here.

“Locker room” Jimmy mumbles into a kiss, and a few seconds later they part, and Tango sees the way Jimmy’s eyes are lit up with excitement.

The locker room isn’t far and it should most definitely be empty by now. They part just long enough, just in case somebody else decided to stick around here, to hurry through the hallway, Jimmy eagerly pulling Tango along who is equally stunned and amused.

Jimmy looks back at Tango with his brown eyes, almost like a puppy begging for a treat and Tango feels his heart melt at the sight.

The second the door closes behind them, Jimmy presses his lips against Tango’s, pushing his back against the door. Tango kisses back instantly, parting his lips with a small smirk, as he lets Jimmy eagerly explore.

He has been driving Tango insane with his smile, his charisma and just his energy in the plenty of interviews they’ve had at this point. And Tango had wanted this, had kicked himself for craving this for longer than he wants to admit.

But he isn’t pushing Jimmy away now. No one in their right mind would push Jimmy Solidarity away if he kisses them like this.

Tango pushes back into the kiss, pushing himself off and away from the door, not wanting to jinx the most awkward accident imaginable, should somebody come in here after all. Not that any other alternative of someone walking in on them would be much better, but Tango decides not to think about those possibilities right now.

They part but only for a moment before Tango finds himself between the side of a locker and Jimmy, who is currently pressing one leg right between Tangos, his thigh just brushing against him just right and Tango already has to bite back a groan.

It doesn’t help when Jimmy trails open mouthed kisses alongside his jaw.

Tango leans further against the wall for support, letting Jimmy kiss his neck with a hunger that surprises him.

He still does not understand what someone like Jimmy wants from someone like him, but for once he decides not to question his luck.

With eager hands Jimmy starts pulling Tango’s polo shirt up slightly, and as one hand explores Tango’s stomach, traveling all the way up over his chest, his other hand starts to undo Tango’s belt.

For a moment Tango is so taken aback by how skilled and practiced Jimmy’s movements are, but after a second or two he gathers himself, placing a hand on Jim’s wrist, immediately stopping the younger one in his eagerness.

Of course, Jimmy immediately backpedals, stopping, trying to pull back but Tango’s hands remain on his wrists, not letting him remove them either. “Jim, I… Are you sure you want this?” He asks, clearly nervous. More nervous than Jimmy, who’s hands seem to just want to keep moving.

“What? Of course Tango.” Then after a moment he adds “I wanted this for so long. Gosh, Tango, I have been thinking about this for way too long” Jimmy admits and Tango can see his face flush, see the way it spreads past the collar of his shirt and Tango needs to close his eyes. But that only ends up making it worse, his imagination now running wild. Jimmy has been thinking about him? About this?

He almost wants to ask, wants to know what exactly Jimmy has been fantasizing about.

Instead, Tango decides not to push his luck further today. He just needs to make sure that this is really what Jim wants and not something he’ll end up regretting.

“Are you-” Jimmy immediately interrupts him.

“Yes, Tango. Please, I just, I just want this. I want you.” Jimmy looks down at Tango with pleading eyes, his tone just edging on being whiny. Tango goes weak in the knees at the sight.

Here is this handsome, fit, young man, practically begging for him. Slowly he lets go of Jimmy’s wrists, letting his hands trail slightly up his arms, giving Jimmy a confirming nod.

Tango is still conflicted, of course. He can never really turn his brain off and now is no different. What does Jimmy want with someone like him? Of course, he shouldn’t complain, should just give in but… Tango isn’t exactly in his 20s anymore. His body, while still fit for his age, shows that. And he is not exactly one for random flings anymore, he doesn’t even really remember how long it has been since the last time he did something this spontaneous.

Of course he’d want more from this, in the best case, but now is not exactly the time to ask for that. He closes his eyes again, unable to stifle the sigh that escapes his lips as Jimmy finally undoes the zipper of his pants.

Tango leans back, the metal of the locker cold against the back of his shirt that Jimmy is still pulling up.

With his head leaning back, Tango lets out a shaky breath. He can already feel his dick harden inside his pants even if, despite Jimmy’s eagerness, he hasn’t even touched Tango yet.

Jimmy slowly, very slowly, sinks down to his knees, hands on Tango's waist to steady himself. Even on his knees, brown eyes looking up at him, he seems tall. Tango can’t help but stare at him like this, broad shoulders, strong arms, tousled hair and he knows that he needs to see more.

With slightly shaky hands, he grabs Jimmy’s shirt at his shoulders and gently tugs on it, begging silently to remove it, but he waits, patiently, for Jimmy to react.

Jimmy does not have the same patience apparently, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it into some corner of the room with little regard.

Tango’s eyes travel over his broad, slightly tanned shoulders, the definition of his muscles, and Tango can see them work as Jimmy’s hands trail over his lower body, slowly pulling his pants down till they pool at his ankles.

Despite Jimmy’s clear impatience, he looks up at Tango, while hooking his fingers under the waistband, slightly tugging it down, thumb brushing over the dark blond hairs that trail down below.

Tango wants this, wants this more than anything, so he pushes his concerns away, his hand finding Jimmy’s hair, tugging on it just a little. The moan Jimmy lets out at this is making Tango throb, and he pulls just a little bit harder, pulls his face a little bit closer to his crotch, which only earns him more of those beautiful noises. It feels addicting, like he needs more, more of Jimmy.

“Please” Tango manages, his raspy voice cracking slightly as his breathing already grows heavier in anticipation.

And Jimmy doesn’t need to hear that twice, quickly pulling down the boxers. He can see Jimmy eye him, his brown eyes large, lips parted just slightly as his face is so close to Tango’s member.

Tango is slightly nervous, having someone like Jimmy so close to himself. He knows he’s not anything impressive, that he isn’t Jimmy’s age anymore, and that it shows. Despite being fit, his body has gone soft. But with Jimmy looking up at him like that, he might almost feel as beautiful as Jim is.

Jimmy’s warm breath ghosts over him, causing Tango to shudder, knees buckling slightly. Immediately, Jimmy’s hands grab his waist just a little bit firmer. He lets the touch ground him, but it is only a momentary respite before he feels the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth on him. Tango feels like he might pass out from how warm and wet it is and the tightness of his lips wrapped around his tip.

Already Tango has to keep himself from bucking his hips forward, not wanting to overwhelm Jimmy, but the younger man takes notice and greedily takes more of him, sinking down onto him until Tango can feel himself press against the back of Jimmy’s throat, while letting out a strangled gasp.

Jimmy stays still for a moment and looks up at Tango and he can’t help but throb in his mouth, precum leaking from his tip.

“Jimmy” Tango groans, his voice high pitched and raspy, pulling slightly tighter on the blonde hair, as if it were a lifeline.

The way Jimmy hums around him has Tango already on edge and he knows he won’t last long, not with how Jimmy looks up at him, moves his tongue around his member, and takes him just a little bit deeper, occasionally closing his eyes, as if Tango were the most delicious thing he ever tasted.

When Jimmy pulls back, not fully but just enough to sink himself down on Tango again, his lips still firmly wrapped around his member, Tango can’t hold his noises, panting back anymore.

Tango can’t help himself, as he feels his orgasm build and build, until he feels like he’s about to spill. “Jimmy, I’m gonna -” He tries to pull Jimmy off, not wanting to make him swallow like this, but Jimmy has other plans, his tongue licking along the underside of Tango's shaft as much as he can while trying to take him even deeper, nose brushing against Tango’s abdomen.

Tango didn’t plan on cumming down Jim’s throat. He didn’t plan on any of this in the first place.

It was an idea he entertained before, on some lonely nights, when he couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy’s bright smile, his stupidly beautiful brown eyes, thinking about a sight much like the one right in front of him. But this was better than he could have imagined it.

Tango can’t help but let out a few indecent grunts, mixed with a sigh, as he feels his orgasm wash over him. He can’t handle the sight in front of him, the way Jimmy smiles with his eyes, still looking up at him. Tango wants to look away, he really does, but he can’t tear his gaze from him, not wanting to miss a single second of this.

Tango is quite certain he hadn’t cum this hard in years, mostly just taking care of his needs as they arose, but this is something he didn’t even consider again, for the longest time.

He sinks against the wall, leans his head against the cool metal of the locker and shuts his eyes, his breath coming out heavy and his hand still buried in Jimmy’s hair, not holding him down. No, Jimmy is staying in place of his own volition as Tango softens in his mouth, still surrounded by the warmth.

Gently, he strokes Jimmy’s hair, still reeling from the intense pleasure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before daring to look at him again.

It takes everything in Tango to remain standing up, especially when Jimmy starts trailing one of his hands along his thigh, grabbing gently at it. Of course Tango is still fit, still muscular, just because he is retired from playing football professionally, doesn’t mean he isn’t still playing and especially his legs show that.

“Jim” Tango groans, his voice cracking again slightly and in other circumstances he might be embarrassed about it but right now he can’t find it in him to care.

Not when Jimmy’s hand travels lower, gently brushing up and down his calf as if he were admiring the muscle in it. That thought, mixed with the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth and his hand trailing up and down his leg, cause Tango to let out another high pitched noise.

Again, Tango repeats “Jim”, as it is getting too much for him. He needs to breathe, he needs to just… Sit down for a second.

With a gentle push he moves Jimmy's head back, guiding him off his cock, which is now glistening with Jimmy’s saliva and the bits of his release that Jimmy hadn’t managed to swallow down immediately and this time Tango needs to avert his gaze.

“This was…” Tango tries but starts again “Jimmy this is… You are…” His thoughts are still all over the place, unable to focus on anything coherent. Or better said, he can’t focus on anything but Jimmy and the way he is looking at him.

“I think I need to sit down” he eventually manages to get out alongside a desperate and shaky laugh.

Before Tango can even try to pull his pants back up, Jimmy is already at it, and their hands brush against each other as Tango grabs onto the fabric of the jeans to pull it up the rest of the way and fasten the belt again. It feels weirdly intimate, despite what they just did and Tango finds himself just wanting to hold onto Jimmy’s hands, to just not let go.

Instead though, he just extends his hand to Jimmy.

Tango can't help but think of the first time they met, the way Jimmy was still so awkward and new to the entire interview scene, the way he slumped onto the floor once they were finished.

Tango doesn’t remember much about that interview, how long ago that even was or why Jimmy even fell off the couch in the first place.

What he does remember though, is the way Jimmy had looked up at him with his large brown eyes as he pulled him to his feet again.

Tango is afraid he is in this position for far too long, so he helps Jimmy up with ease and proceeds to sit down on one of the benches right next to them, leaning back against the locker behind him.

“This was amazing, Jimmy. You are amazing” Tango rasps as he tries to calm his pounding heart, giving Jimmy an encouraging smile.

With his eyes closed once more, Tango doesn’t see Jimmy’s face flush as a bright, goofy smile finds its way onto his lips, or the way Jimmy stares at him absolutely starstruck.

When Tango opens his eyes again he sees Jimmy bend down to pick up his discarded shirt, and he can’t look away from the way his back looks as he moves.

Tango wants nothing more than to return the favor immediately.

“Jimmy” his voice still sounds breathless, “Come here”, he requests gently.

And of course Jimmy is right there, not even bothering to put the shirt on again. Instead he lets Tango pull him onto the bench so he straddles his lap. Tango has to crane his neck up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, his lips, as they meet his.

This time it is Tango’s hands that wander over Jimmy’s ribs, his abs, his arms, his back, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss until Jimmy lets a soft moan slip out and it only encourages Tango more, now needing to know what other noises Jim can make for him.

As he plays with the waistband of Jimmy’s shorts, just about to pull them down when it is now Jimmy’s turn to stop him. “Tango, Tango, I haven’t showered yet. I don’t wanna do that to you” He laughs and Tango can only stare up at him and nod with a weak “Oh, yeah okay”, earning another laugh. Of course he heard Jimmy laugh before, a million times it feels, with how charismatic he gives himself in the interviews nowadays, but never like this.

They both look at each other for a moment before Jimmy leans in with a smirk “Care to join me?” and Tango forgets how to breathe for a second before he manages to get out a quiet, barely there “yes”

Tango knows he’s behaving like a lovestruck teenager right now but when Jimmy looks at him like this, he can’t help himself.

Now both of them move eagerly towards the shower, just out of view from the empty locker room, as neither of them can take their hands off each other.

Jimmy is immediately eager to help Tango out of his red polo shirt, tugging the red fabric over his head, as Tango kicks his shoes off. Quickly his pants follow suit, Jimmy fiddling with his belt again as their lips meet. Tango blindly tries to pull Jimmy’s pants down but brushes accidentally over his already very prominent length. This causes Jimmy to gasp right into Tango’s mouth, all while pressing further against his lips, clearly wanting more.

Tango tries, just for a moment, to tease him more, to get more of these delicious noises out of Jimmy, but both of them are getting too impatient as to draw this out any longer.

Soon enough, they’re both undressed and Jimmy turns around to turn the water on, only for Tango to immediately step up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his torso, as he hugs Jimmy from behind, pressing open mouthed kisses against his shoulder, causing Jimmy to freeze, before he even manages to turn the water on.

Tango smiles against his skin, trying to reach out and around Jimmy, hand placed on his, on the faucet and without much thinking, he turns the water on.

Immediately hot water splashes both of them, right onto Jimmy’s shoulder and square into Tango’s face, causing him to yelp in panic for a moment.

Jimmy quickly moves so the water isn’t pelting Tango right in the face, but Tango just wants to bury his head into Jimmy’s shoulder in embarrassment. Of course, for once he tried to be cool and collected around Jimmy, which was already hard enough considering everything about him, only for something to go wrong.

Tango lets out a laugh, the heat in his face rising but then he sees Jimmy turn towards him and his bright, slightly crooked grin turns into laughter too. But not at Tango, not making fun of him, but with him.

And when Jimmy tries to tilt his head upwards, of course Tango looks at him and gets lost in his eyes.

Jimmy wants to say something but Tango can only focus on his lips and how they were wrapped around him just a few minutes ago, so before any word can come out, Tango kisses Jimmy again, eager to repay the favor as the hot water runs over them.

While Jimmy’s hands roam Tango’s body with a vigorous hunger, Tango carefully brushes his over Jimmy’s body, calloused hands cleaning his skin, while slowly trailing lower and lower.

Their bodies are pressed against one another, and Tango can’t help but press kisses all over Jimmy’s skin. He can see him shiver when his beard scratches against Jimmy’s throat as he trails down from his jaw, causing Tango to smile into each kiss.

Jimmy bucks his hips against Tango, his member already hard and Tango cautiously reaches out, studying Jimmy’s every expression to make sure he doesn’t overstep. But Jimmy has his eyes pressed shut, head tilted backwards just the slightest bit as he bites down on his lips as he is struggling to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you, please” Tango whispers, some of the guilt still gnawing at him. What is he doing here? What is he doing here with Jimmy?

But seeing his expressions it is clear that Jimmy enjoys this as much as Tango does, if not more. And who is Tango to leave Jimmy unsatisfied after he already got on his knees for him;

Tango is not planning on leaving Jimmy unsatisfied.

“It’s okay. We’re alone here.” He reassures, as if that’s what Jimmy would be worried about.

He picks up his pace and asks again, this time just with another raspy “Please” murmured into Jimmy’s built chest. Tango can’t look at him for too long like this, his mind and body still reeling from his own release just minutes ago.

Jimmy’s lips part and the moans flow freely now, drawing Tango's gaze up. He presses another kiss on the corner of Jimmy’s mouth as his hand keeps moving in a steady rhythm, making sure that he's wrapped around Jimmy just tight enough.

He can feel Jimmy eagerly fuck forwards into his fist with desperation, the need for more apparent in his movements and the few moans that the sound of running water didn't fully drown out.

Tango can’t take his eyes off Jimmy, studying his expression and with the tousled wet hair he looks even more beautiful, his cheeks flushed, panting out Tango's name.

No one should have to be subjected to such a sight. Ever.

Tango can feel his own member slowly starting to harden again but he ignores it, wanting to focus solely on Jimmy now.

He presses more kisses onto his jaw, and down his throat, burying his face in Jimmy's shoulder for a moment as he stops his hand from moving, just to feel Jimmy desperately bucking his hips to find more friction, his moans getting needier and needier. “Tango. Please. Tango, please I need-”he pants.

Normal Tango might have tried to make him spell it out but the slight whine in Jimmy's voice has him give in instantly. He cannot say no to him, to the way that Jimmy's moans beg him to keep going, like a puppy asking for treats.

But instead of moving his hand again, Tango holds the base of Jimmy's shaft in his fist while getting on his knees.

Jimmy has half a mind to turn the water off, so Tango doesn't get hit in the face again when Jimmy leans back against the cool tiles of the communal showers, groaning at the cold sensation on his back.

Tango kneels before Jimmy who is towering over him entirely now. How can he be so ridiculously tall? How can he still look so ridiculously handsome from down here? Maybe even more handsome, with the slight flush spreading over his torso, his member now standing right in front of Tango's face.

Almost immediately, a hand finds itself on the back of Tango's head, pushing him forward towards where Jimmy's tip is already eager, leaking slightly.

Trying not to get lost in the sight, Tango focuses on gently licking along its underside, all the way to the tip, pressing an open mouthed kiss on it, that practically invites Jimmy to buck his hips forwards, the younger one clearly not patient enough for this.

“Oh God - sorry, Tango, I'm sorry, I - “ Any apology is instantly getting swallowed by a moan, as Tango starts moving the hand on Jimmy's shaft, jerking him off into his mouth.

Tango knows that there is no way he can do what Jimmy did for him earlier, and he's still thinking about it, and he knows he won’t be able to ever stop thinking about it either for a long while.

There is an eager stutter to Jimmy's hips and Tango can tell just how much he is trying to hold back, can feel it in the way Jimmy's hands keep wandering away from the back of his neck, to being on Tango's shoulder, to one hanging in tense fists next to Jimmy, the other splayed on the cool tiles behind him.

Right as Jimmy was about to ask Tango to take him just the slightest bit deeper, hand on his neck again, the door to the locker room opened and both men froze up instantly. Jimmy had half a mind to turn the shower next to them on, hoping the sounds would muffle any other noises.

“Jimmy, can you hurry up? How long are you still gonna take here? We've been waiting forever“, Joel's voice sounds through the locker room, clearly annoyed.

Tango wants to pull himself off Jimmy's cock, but the hand at the back of his head applies gentle pressure, keeping him in place. When Tango looks up and their eyes meet he can see Jimmy whisper a silent “Please”, face still flushed and traces of pleasure apparent.

“Ye-Yeah I'll be out in a bit. Just gotta finish showering. Why, why are you and Grian still waiting?” Jimmy asks, hoping he comes across normal enough.

He can hear the frustration in Joel's voice “Jim, we've had plans to grab drinks tonight. Can you stop drooling over that guy for one second and actually pay attention.” A locker opens and ruffling noises sound. Tango remains unmoving but prays that Joel won’t come in here, won’t notice what is happening.

If Jimmy's face was flushed before, he was now closer in shade to a tomato.

“Shit” Jimmy stammers as Tango shifts slightly, but Joel doesn't seem to notice the cause. “Oh gosh that was today? I'm sorry, I can't, something came up and-”

“I swear Jimmy, if you're ditching us again just to learn, what was it? Football stats,” Joel says in a high-pitched voice mocking Jimmy's, “just to get your dick wet, I'm gonna actually punch you.” Joel threatens, still audibly rummaging in his locker.

It doesn't escape Tango how Jimmy's grasp has become just a little bit firmer on him and how he is twitching in Tango's mouth.

Jimmy is actively avoiding Tango's gaze, looking anywhere but at the man on his knees for him and Tango isn't quite sure if it is out of embarrassment or something else but he gets his answer when precum coats his tongue, Jimmy's breath hitching as he tries to remain steady enough to reply.

“No, no, Joel, I just… I just forgot about an appointment I had. Norman… I have to bring him to the vet, for a checkup.” Jimmy stammers his weak lie, the best he could come up with given his situation. It doesn't help that Tango slowly starts moving his hand again, a careful eye on Jimmy's expression, nervously trying not to misinterpret the situation but it seems like he was spot on. Jimmy's hips start moving again.

“A checkup at the vets? At 8pm on a Friday? Jim, you absolute idiot. But yeah, go home and jerk off to your Tango or something. But you're paying for the first round next week.” Joel gives him a dry laugh, locker door slamming shut and after a few moments his steps leave the room entirely, the heavy door falling shut.

Jimmy is now painfully hard and leaking, not able to hide from Tango, just how much this interaction had worked him up. Finally he lets Tango pull himself off his leaking tip, catching his breath, but his hand still keeps moving as he looks up at Jimmy.

“So… Football stats to get your dick wet, huh?” Tango asks with a smirk.

Tango already had a hunch, that Jimmy didn’t actually know much about the statistical side of his job, despite being an excellent player, at least at the beginning of his career. It comes naturally to some and less to others and there's no shame in it. But there is shame in how endearing it had been to Tango, to see the effort Jimmy put into learning about these things.

And to know now, that he did it to impress Tango was a heady feeling he dared not to think about too much, at least not right now.

What had he done to have this puppy of a man be infatuated with him? It is both pure bliss and absolute torture simultaneously.

Tango tries to just turn his head off for once and it comes easier when Jimmy whines out his name again in a desperate plea.

Of course Tango's hand picks up speed and of course Tango's lips wrap around the leaking member again.

He wants nothing more than to make Jimmy the happiest he can be in this moment and it doesn't take long for Tango to succeed.

In a frantic, desperate motion, Jimmy pulls Tango off of himself, not having even a second to warn him, before spurts of release get shot across Tango's face, some landing in his beard and a lot of it on his glasses.

Jimmy looks like he's about to apologize as he's but Tango just looks up at him and laughs “Hey, at least we're already in the shower” studying Jimmy from this view one last time before taking his glasses off and standing up, feeling Jimmy's gaze on him the entire time.

This seems to ease Jimmy’s own worries slightly, his face more flushed than tomato colored now and his parted lips slowly turning into a goofy smile. And before Tango can wipe any of the cum off his face Jimmy energetically pulls him in for a kiss, even more enthusiastic than before.

Tango can’t help but be endeared by him, Jimmy’s energy being infectious enough to make him forget how his knees ache from being on the tiled floor for too long.

“Lets get cleaned up, alright?” Tango laughs as they both bask in each other's presence under the hot water.

——————————————————————————————————

Jimmy throws Tango one of his spare towels once they are done and asks, as casually as he can, “Can we go out? For drinks? Tonight?” It comes off as a little bit desperate so he adds, “If you don’t have anything planned.” That is not making it any better.

Tango finishes drying off, tossing the towel back to Jimmy who catches it with ease, shooting Jimmy a smile as he puts his pants back on. “Thought you had a vet appointment? Norman was your cat right?” And Jimmy wants to sink to his knees again almost instantly. He remembers the name of his cat? But before Jimmy can point that out or even just nervously laugh at Tango’s joke, the man continues. “Or are you just ditching your teammates to go spend time with some old guy, trying to impress him by talking about football stats, huh?”

Jimmy wants to sink into the floor and never emerge again. He might need to strangle Joel tomorrow, couldn’t his timing have been any worse?

No, what actually is worse is how much Jimmy enjoyed it. The mixture between the panic of getting caught, the embarrassment of getting called out like this right in front of Tango and just the feeling of Tango himself.

Jimmy shakes his head, focusing on drying off again. He hasn’t even put his pants back on again, he can’t already beg Tango for more.

He realizes he hasn’t replied and has now just been staring at Tango in silence for a few moments, watching him fasten his belt again and reaching for his shirt.

Jimmy only manages an awkward stammer in reply.

He is sure that he’s messed this up again, his one chance, when Tango chuckles, looking at Jimmy, walking closer to him, while only being shirtless.

“We can go out, sure.” Tango grins, placing a hand on Jimmy’s arm. “Come on then, get dressed” He teases at Jimmy’s state of undress, but Jimmy interrupts Tango before he can put his own shirt on, with another kiss.

——————————————————————————————————

Grian and Joel are sitting around a table with a few other teammates they would consider friends, each slowly sipping at their drinks, eyes fixed on the bar nearby where they see Jimmy, who is clearly not taking his cat for a routine checkup on a Friday night, and Tango who has his back to them.

Both seem engrossed in their conversation but the two can only overhear occasional tidbits from Jimmy, his volume control even more questionable than usual when he is around Tango.

“I genuinely can’t believe this. How did Timmy manage that?” Grian asks, pinching the skin between his eyebrows as he sighs.

“No idea. Maybe he finally stopped bringing up -” Joel wants to reply but Jimmy’s laughter echoes way too loud through the bar, but neither of the men seem to be aware of it.

Joel groans instead of finishing his sentence, emptying his drink.

——————————————————————————————————

The next day before practice, Jimmy can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday, right here where he is sitting in the locker room, the way he was on his knees in front of Tango, how he sat on his lap, how his lips felt on his. Oh, he would go on his knees again and again for Tango in a heartbeat.

Jimmy was so lost in his daydreams that he did not notice Joel entering, immediately kicking at Jimmy’s shin, ripping him out of his thoughts about the wonderful sounds Tango made for him yesterday.

“How was Norman?” Joel asks in a mocking tone.

“Norman?” Jimmy asks back, confused. His mind is filled with many things but none of them help him figure out why Joel is talking about his cat.

Grian joins the team in the locker room, immediately heading past Jimmy to his own locker, not sparing him a single glance. “Tim, next time you’re getting your dick wet, please just come up with a better excuse”

Jimmy stammers, right. “I didn’t mean to ditch you guys, sorry” Jimmy says and he means it.

“Whatever, next one’s on you” Joel shrugs before sitting down in front of his own locker, kicking his shoes off.

“How do you guys even know about this?” Jimmy asks, fearing for the worst. They couldn’t have actually heard them in here yesterday, right? Joel would have said something right then and there and Jimmy would never live that down.

Grian has the most exasperated look on his face, tired of dealing with this “Jimmy. You guys quite literally went to the bar that we were supposed to go to yesterday, after ditching us.”

A weak ”Oh.” is all Jimmy can manage.

“Oh Tango, please tell me more. Oh Tango, can you tell me about the Olympics again” Joel mocks Jimmy in a high pitched voice, causing Grian to groan.

“Joel, please don’t encourage him. Seeing him drool like that yesterday was already bad enough” which is met with laughter.

Jimmy leans his head back in embarrassment “You guys… saw all of that?”

“Jimmy, it was really hard to miss.” Grian sighs, unpacking his bag. “The whole place heard your conversation”

“It was actually quite disgusting to watch.”, Joel chimes in with another laugh.

“Guys please, I…” Jimmy can’t really defend himself there, his face heating in embarrassment but he can’t help but laugh. Because he must have looked absolutely ridiculous yesterday, but how could he not?

He checks his phone quickly before putting it into his locker, needing to escape his friends teasing. But he stops, seeing he’s got a message from Tango.

It is simple, it just says “alright. see you later then!”, but Jimmy must have the biggest grin on his face, judging by Grian groaning in exasperation.

#please don't let this show up in the maintags #I don't know how anything here works i've only been here for 10+ years #Solidaritek #trafficnsfw #trafficshipping #yellowwritings #this should be okay I think? I hope???

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twyftwyt · 1 year ago

Text

part 2 to this little imagine that I posted earlier today (since you guys seemed to like it very much)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (a little at the end), angst

Authors note: so this started as a little imagine I wrote in my drafts a few days ago and I got so many positive comments to expand it, so you know, i gotta give it you, it’s only fair; let me know if you’d like me to continue this story as I have quite a few ideas for it

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand

and i have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand…

By the time we reached my house my tears had dried and I’d calmed myself down as much as I could. Noah stayed silent the whole drive home and it crushed me a little that he didn’t fight back on what I said earlier. Silence was agreement, in my eyes. And he seemed to be on the same page with what I said.

He parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine. The low hum coming from the speakers fell silent and the air felt even thicker now. Neither one of us knew what to say or do next and I didn’t want to leave like that. But I wasn’t going to be the first to speak either. I was too scared to look at him, as well. I knew that the moment I looked at him, I’d cave and try to hug him. Or say something to make this whole situation better. But the truth was that it was better left this way. We needed time. I needed time.

“Can I walk you to the front door?”

I wanted to say “yes”, believe me, I did. But it was not gonna be like the usual times, where he’d walk me to the door, kiss and hug me, sometimes even try to come in, and I’d let him. I knew this time was gonna be tough and heavy. And so I decided to politely decline.

“I can walk myself to my house, Noah. It’s fine.”

I knew that came out a bit harsher than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t have the capacity to be nicer. I was hurting and I had all the right reasons for my emotional state right now. My eyes were red and puffy, my lips - swollen, my heart felt heavy in my chest.

“Don’t be this way, please. It is shit enough as it is. Just let me walk you.”

“Why? You can wait in the car until I close the door”

“Get out of my car then.”

I didn’t expect that kind of an answer and so I finally looked up at him. Same blank expression, right hand firm on the steering wheel. Did he really just tell me to get out of his car?!

“You know, I wanted to be nice to you. End this night on a more positive note. But since I see you’ve managed to bring your attitude with your goodnight’s, have it your way. Asshole.”

My tears were bubbling up again and I didn’t wait long enough for him to see them streaming down my face. I took my keys in my hand and got off the passenger seat, slamming the door. By the time I reached the patio my vision was blurry and my hands were shaking. I managed to put the key in the hole and didn’t look twice before slamming the door to my house as well. He could go to hell for all I care about.

I can’t properly remember how I managed to take a shower and tidy up my room before I got into bed, all I knew was almost six months of building something with someone just went to shit. And I should’ve known from the start. I should’ve seen the signs, I should’ve taken my friends’ advices when they told me numerous times to not deal with a man like him. I should’ve listened. I should’ve left when he said he doesn’t know what a healthy relationship feels and looks like. I should’ve left when he stayed silent for all of our arguments. I should’ve left when he said he wasn’t ready. But of course, I’ve always been known to go against my instincts. Like I did the first time I met him.

I got invited to a friend of a friend’s party at the Hollywood Hills, a place I wasn’t very fond of and up until the last moment, I decided not to attend. And if you ask me now, why I changed my mind all of a sudden, I won’t be able to come up with and adequate answer. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain everything that happened that night.

It was a nice pool house, looking over the hills, all white and minimalistic and the music was booming all around. There were people everywhere and liquor, lots and lots of liquor. I wasn’t used to going to parties. At least not anymore. I preferred having my peace of mind at home, with a movie or working on something. And so when I arrived at said party, I wished I could teleport anywhere but here. That’s up until I met him. Noah.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

The first time I laid my eyes on him he was leaning against a wall, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a phone in the other. I found it amusing that he was wearing sunglasses inside but I kinda understood why. I’d wear a pair too if it made me look less approachable. He was looking at the screen of his phone, scrolling away his life. He was wearing all black. Black “The Witch” shirt that immediately caught my attention. Black sweats and what looked like skull slides with white socks. In all honesty, he looked ridiculous for a party. I must have stared at him for too long, cause he picked his head up from his phone and looked my way. I quickly moved my glance from him and focused on a girl trying to get into the pool, but soon enough I felt the air move around me and the smell of a strong perfume enveloped me.

“That’s a cute pajama.”

I tuned to face the man who called my boho pants “pajama”, ready to call him out, but quickly froze when I was met with the piercing eyes of the man I had just spent 10 minutes staring at.

“And that’s a bold first thing to say to anyone.”

“Not as bold as your fashion statement.”

Cheeky.

“Says the man wearing skull slides and sunglasses indoors.”

He laughed at me and raised his beer up to my face.

“Cheers to that.”

We locked eyes and I felt my knees getting weak.

I checked my phone one last time before I put it on DND and placed on my nightstand. I don’t know why I was expecting a text from him, some sort of explanation, reassurance that everything’s gonna be fine and this was just a stupid spat. I don’t know why I wanted to believe this is not over. I don’t know how I managed to trust him so fast and to get hurt just as fast. I grabbed my phone one last time to check for messages again and my heart sunk once the screen lit up.

“I’ve been sitting in front of your house for almost 2 hours now, trying to figure out what the hell just happened between us. All I know is, I don’t wanna go home tonight. Not like this. I need you.”

The speed at which I went for the stairs almost got me killed. The moment I opened my front door and saw him leaning on the hood of his car made my knees go weak the same way it did when I first saw him. Our eyes locked and I could swear that by the time he reached my patio, he was basically running. His body slammed so hard into mine that it made me trip over my legs and almost knocked me over. His hands were around my waist, his wet lips all over my face and I could feel his dick pressed against my belly.

“Noah..”

Was all I managed to moan in his mouth, while digging my fingers in his hair.

“Let me..” he looked me up and down hungrily and gripped my ass “..inside.”

I was done for.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #fic

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fandomwritingbit · 10 months ago

Text

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up.

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course.

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile.

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do.

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs.

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair.

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away.

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and-

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him.

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it.

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop.

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it.

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force.

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.”

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back.

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means.

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath.

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter.

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person.

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?”

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-”

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten.

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?”

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that.

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks.

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?”

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still.

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet.

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen.

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you.

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much.

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings.

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do.

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?”

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked.

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost.

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue.

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows.

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.”

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you.

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like.

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips.

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum.

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do.

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.”

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all.

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen. You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere.

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching?

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.”

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

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wayfayrr · 1 year ago

Note

I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them

Source: the Owl House :)

I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)

[masterlist]

“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!”

“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”

Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either.

“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”

“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”

That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”

“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”

“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”

I hope he doesn’t.

He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.

It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.

Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.

It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it.

Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!

IT’S STILL ALIVE!?

Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it -

Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side.

“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”

Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.

“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”

“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”

Is that really what I sound like right now… I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.

I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?

“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”

A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so.

“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”

The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.

“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”

“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”

“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”

“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”

Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected.

“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”

A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?

“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”

Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…

��We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”

He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while.

“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”

“I will Wars, I swear.”

“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #humans are space orcs #kinda #feels appropriate still <3 #this is the heaviest angst I've written so far lol #moss✦writes #lu warriors x reader #lu warriors #yandere link

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neil-neil-orange-peel · 13 days ago

Text

A Bastard's Carol: a work of fanfiction by scumbaganarchy 💣

Season's greetings, scumbags! I hope you're all having a pleasant day. I come bearing a gift (of a sort):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1we8qEVul2PTWFCtaVqyyXccVg8-xZBte/view?usp=sharing

A huge thank you to @viviangreeneart for the awesome art! ❤️ It turns out we should all definitely be making fake novel docs out of our fanfic. It's good for the soul.

Some pretentiousness about ABC below the cut.

Just over five years ago, a naiver version of me had the idea of writing a Young Ones/Rivyan parody of A Christmas Carol. She started actually writing for this idea in December 2019... and promptly discovered it was going to be a whole lot bigger than she'd anticipated. With one chapter posted before the big day, she decided to kick the rest into the new year.

That new year was 2020.

Yes, that 2020. Although, to be fair, what other one could I be talking about?

We'll skip all of that. None of us need to relive it.

One year, two or three lockdowns, and four indefensibly long chapters later, ABC was finally done and dusted in December 2020. It stood at around 60K words, making it by far the longest thing I'd ever written. I guess we all had to spend that empty time doing something, right?

Followers of this blog will have noticed, I'm sure, that I've never shut up about ABC since. Maybe you even rolled your eyes when you saw the title of this notification? Uh oh, she's going on about that old thing again...

Yep.

Look, I'm incredibly bad at hyping up my own work - self-deprecation is a bad habit, but a common one - and the more time that passes between who you were when you wrote something and who you are today, the harder being positive about it can get.

I was 18 when I wrote ABC. I had only gotten back into writing properly at 17. The whole work went through one major copy edit a year or so ago, when I knew a little more about writing - but I still didn't know as much then as I do now, and I suspect (and hope) the same will be true for a future version of myself when she looks back on my writing from this time.

All of this is to say, sometimes ABC reads to me as something written by somebody else. 18 year old me didn't write exactly the way I do now; she hadn't gotten the Bachelor of Arts cheat code boost that I have. But she was extremely passionate. She did love the bastards Rik and the gang created with all her heart. She'd also studied A Christmas Carol for her GCSEs only a couple of years previously, so she did at least understand the text she was taking a chainsaw to. I think all of this mattered. I think this gave ABC heart.

But what's my point in saying all of this (again)?

For a very long time, I've wanted but held back on commissioning an artist to draw me a cover. Well, no more. Truly, thank you ever so much to @viviangreeneart for indulging me and creating something fabulous for this old fic of mine. Thank you too to everyone who has ever commented on or kudos'ed ABC on ao3 over the years. It really does mean more to me than I can say.

Having dropped a new and flashy PDF decked out like an actual novel, here's the link to ABC on ao3, which will always be its home:

Merry Christmas, scumbags. Cliff bless us, Everyone!

#the young ones #tyo #rik mayall #ade edmondson #rivyan #rick pratt #vyvyan basterd #neil pye #mike the cool person #fanfic #a bastard's carol #me rambling

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kinkandkreep · 1 year ago

Note

Heyy can you do J,I,Y,X,V,S,N,E,F,B nsfw alphabet for ratonhnhaké:ton please 😊

Thanks for sending this in hun! Y'all feel free to take a gander at my NSFW Alphabet and send in some more requests! Happy reading!

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

B= Body Part (favorite body part of their own or their lover's)

Connor’s favorite body part(s) of his own are his arms

His favorite body part of yours is your lips (he's also quite partial to your cheeks and hands)

Connor admires the strength of his arms, how easily they allow him to carry you, and caress you and comfort you when the occasion calls for it

He likes your lips because they’re soft and oh so kissable

He could spend an eternity just gently kissing you, savoring the way you taste and holding you close *swoon*

E= Experience (do they know what they're doing )

Connor…sort of knows what he’s doing

Initially

He really doesn't really have all that much experience, mostly on account of the fact that, y'know, he's a busy Assassin/Captain/Business Owner🙃

I personally headcanon that Connor lost his virginity to the person he married; in this case, let's say that's you

In the beginning, Connor is hesitant but very teachable

He really just needed a gentle, encouraging hand to help him along and before long, he’s practically an expert at making you feel good

F= Favorite Position

Con-con man’s a bit of a vanilla guy so I’d say something intimate like missionary or spooning

He’s also partial to just your basic cowgirl

I= Intimacy (do they prefer to "fuck" or "make love”)

Connor prefers to “make love” 9 ½ times out of ten

The rest of the time he’s probably hopped up on adrenaline or something and needs to properly “fuck” the energy out

J= Jack Off (do they masturbate & how often)

I wrote about this once before but I imagine that Connor actually masturbates fairly often

Which probably sounds counterintuitive given that I just said he’s a busy man but just hear me out 😂

In that drabble, I noted that he has a high libido, and, looking at it from the perspective of an average, sexually healthy person, the reader couldn’t always keep up/doesn’t feel like takin’ it to the bed all the time

So, as a remedy to the issue of essentially always being ready to go, outside of like quickies, Connor just masturbates and it helps

Not necessarily a whole lot, but it helps nonetheless 🙃

N= No (turnoffs or flat-out no no's)

Connor will not hurt you in bed, no matter how you plead and beg and whine and moan

If that’s one of your kinks

Connor’s already lived his life around so much violence and he’s gotten his fair share of scars and injuries, and he would never want to inflict something like that onto you

Yeah yeah, he knows how to be gentle and maintain self control and he could feasibly play rough but he just prefers not to

Connor’s a big ole’ teddy bear ok, just let ‘im be soft 😭

S= Stamina (how many rounds per night, how many nights/times per week)

Rounds per night: As many as you’re able to go and then some, so if I just absolutely had to give a figure it’d probably be 3-4

Nights/times per week: Again, as many as you’re up for, but on his own, he could go the aforementioned 3-4 rounds every night of the week

V= Volume (are they loud, do they talk & if so, what kinds of sounds do they make)

Connor doesn’t talk loudly, but he may whisper sweet words in his native language and even swear in it and English when things get really heated

Other than that, he makes the usual grunts, sharp intakes of air through his clenched teeth and, if you’re fortunate, you may even pull a throaty moan from him on occasion *waggles eyebrows*

X= X-ray (length, girth, any special attributes like piercings, veins, tats, etc.)

So…here’s the thing

I think we as a community have collectively decided that Connor is, for lack of better term, packin’

He’s big, and I would even imagine he knows it 😏

Let’s say about 8 ½ inches in length, a little greater than half an inch thick, with prominent veins running along both sides

And that’s not even me being generous

Honestly I could imagine him to be a bit bigger but I don’t want this to become too unrealistic

Even though he’s a fictional character but I digress 🙃

Y= Yearning (a look into their libido)

As previously mentioned, Connor has quite the libido

Contrary to what one might assume from observing his personality and mannerisms, Connor has a naturally high sex drive and he practically runs on adrenaline, so while he’s not perpetually hard exactly, he’s pretty damn close 😂

Plus him being so adoring of you doesn’t help, simply observing you do the most simplistic things sends his drive through the roof

He’s just in love ok, leave my baby alone 😤

I believe that’s everything this time ‘round. I hope you enjoyed! 👋🏾

#ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #ac3 #assassin's creed 3 #connor kenway smut #ratonhnhaké:ton smut #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #connor kenway x reader

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month ago

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I’d like to know what your thoughts are on the ramp to the entrance to Collège Françoise Dupont that was built between Seasons 2 and 3.

Remember, from “Heroes’ Day - Part 1”

ALYA: Last year, I wrote an article about equipping public buildings with disabled access. But after seeing Ladybug and Cat Noir going that extra mile every single day, I decided that I, too, can do better. So I got the mayor’s approval to improve facilties so that handicapped kids can actually attend our school.

The stairs from “Origins” to “Heroes’ Day - Part 2”

The stairs in “Chameleon” and onwards

On paper, this is nice. A piece of worldbuilding on par with the akuma alerts like the one in “Riposte”.

However, there are three problems with this:

No one I’ve seen react to the show has noticed or remembered this, since the handicap accessibility is just a throwaway line from Alya that we don’t actually get to see being built.

We know how badly representation is presented in this show, so it’s not like this is getting any brownie points from me.

How the heck is a handicapped student supposed to get up a ramp that steep?

Collège Françoise Dupont's design is based off of Lycée Carnot, a real Parisian school, so I looked to see how the real school handled this issue. After looking at pictures of the school on Google, those steps seem to be a show-only addition. Which is interesting because the show tends to just copy the locations that inspired it. Now I'm wondering if those steps were inspired by something else?

Either way, it's hard to be too critical of the ramp's appearance without knowing the full story. While I fully agree that this is not a functional ramp, we do have to remember that there is a real-world cost associated with adding the ramp to the show. Someone has to design it and add it to the model, so I understand why they did it cheaply. Redesigning the steps into something more elegant and truly functional would have been ideal, but probably impossible to justify budget-wise since it's just a minor visual element. Same goes for animating someone putting in the ramp, which would be even more expensive. I'm honestly surprised that they added the ramp at all!

Now, does that mean that they should be praised for taking the time to put in a slap-dash ramp while never actually acknowledging or using it? No. To me, this feels like a lesser version of their choice to make Marinette a fashion designer while working in a medium that rarely allows her to design anything or even just change her outfit because, once again, budget! Before adding something to your script, you really should think through whether or not you can execute it properly. If you can't, then maybe pick a different path?

To be fair, it's possible that they didn't realize how bad the ramp would look until it was time to animate it. At that point, there's not really a great way to fix the problem. Do you leave the steps as-is even though you've explicitly drawn attention to the accessibility issue or do you be technically faithful to what you promised and put in a non-functional ramp? I don't know. I'm leaning toward "just don't add it," but neither choice is great.

It's even possible they may have only seen the ramp after it was too far in the animation process to revert back to the steps. With most or all of the animation being done out of house (I'm not actually clear on what if anything was done in house prior to season six), they almost certainly weren't seeing every step of the process or having daily reviews of what things were looking like, allowing for detailed input. How much input did they have? No idea! They absolutely got to review story boards or possibly even make them, but between the story board and the final 3D product? No idea.

I looked online for a general guide of the steps involved in working with an outside animation studio and this one generally matches what I know of the process if you want a high-level idea of how this can go and why redoing things may be no small request even if the models already exist. Once a scene is rendered, you have to completely rerender it to make any changes and that's pricey! Sometimes you just have to take a lesser quality product and go with it.

In summary, without knowing more details about what happened here, I don't feel fair being super critical of this, but it's certainly not getting any praise from me.

#marcmarcmomarc

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torpedopickle · 5 months ago

Text

I finally watched Transformers Earthspark Season 2 today. I have a lot of thoughts and I wrote some paragraphs for every episode. As you can see I wrote a LOT, enjoy my way too long cartoon analysis:

Episode 1: the cracks are showing but it hasn't crumbled yet

The animation feels less alive than in season 1 even if strong storyboarding still carries some scenes, as I know several of the season 1 storyboarders did work on this episode. It has a couple good sequences, a couple incredibly stilted ones. The overreliance on slowmo feels weird, and the animation struggles to properly convey things, like how we're supposed to take Hashtag's injury very seriously, but it just looked like she got bumped lightly.

the Decepticons are butchered and watered down into "evil because they're Decepticons". Chaos Terrans is an interesting concept and the way they're executing Aftermath would provide a foundation for exploring topics such as delinquent youth, but knowing how the series will go on to treat them in later episodes, I'm not hopeful.

the Maltos feel like they're sleepwalking. They have a lot of screentime but for some reason they don't feel present at all, it's like I'm watching their shadows move around on screen without the things that made them feel alive shining through.

If I didn't know beforehand what this season would eventually stagnate into, I could see myself being fooled into thinking the gripes I have with this episode are just growing pains, however i'm not so hopeful.

Episode 2: Improved in some ways but not in others. The episode premise is decent, and the narrower focus compared to episode 1 does help make the focus characters feel a bit more like themselves again. Unfortunately i just don't think the premise was utilized well at all. Introducing quintessons to the conflict is kind of a big development, but it doesn't flesh them out well IMO. They treat them like wild animals with no characterization for a majority of it, and then hint at some deeper conflicts at the very 3nd before promptly disposingof them. So ultimately it feels unsatisfying (although we do get some expositon in episode 9, but it doesn't add up to much).

And once again i must comment on the character acting on the humans especially being severely lacking.

Robbie and Mo having helmets for like half their screentime definitely feels like a cut corner not to animate their faces

Episode 3 review: some well animated sequences this time around, i'd seen the storyboards for them on twitter and they're really well done, but then there's some others that really werent as decent, so big ups and down in animation quality. Most of the episode did feel like a slight return to formula for Earthspark tho, with how it felt like it was actually making a point about something for once, which so far has been rare in season 2, although the conclusion wasn't the most satisfying with the whole "you can't have everything" message but then hashtag kinda gets most of what she wanted anyway.

Episode 4 is like.... baffling.

Like the fact that they swapped to a wholly different and much cheaper animation studio was so far just somewhat shining through, but now it's impossible to unsee. The animation here feels BEYOND stilted, in every way. Like not even the 2D FX animation looked convincing this time. That clip of Robbie dropping a cake is the weirdest animated thing i've ever seen. It's like it gets sucked out of his hands by a magnet.

The Faire Maestro is a type of character I feel like would have been handled really well in Transformers Animated but was just kinda nothing here, super ugly design too and very odd voice direction. Lots of just bizarre and mindboggling things in this episode, like them seeing faire maestro having an emberstone shard, and then deciding to steal it right in front of his face for absolutely no reason even though they think he's a normal guy and not a villain. And tiny inconsistencies like Mo knowing his name even though he never said it. Bizarre episode all around, Weird Al cameo is cute but then he's gone.

Episode 5 review: Finally Jawbreaker gets to be in it. Except now he feels like a baby. Just a big stomping juvenile baby.

And speaking of big stomping babies, Aftermath is one too. He feels like he's supposed to be a representation of troubled/delinquent youth who don't get along with their peers and who don't have positive role models or a support network, but he really comes off as being just... chaotic, no real sense of interiority to him other than "I'm mean and I enjoy being mean and I can't help it". He's entertaining on a surface level vibes basis, but it doesn't feel like any attempts are being made at making a point. He's barely been in the show so pretty much anything that could make his character interesting is completely missing. Like there's no development of how the decepticons are raising him other than the basic assumption of "bad role models", and the decepticons barely get to be characters this season either. Aftermath feels like an Afterthought, as Chaos Terrans have basically been less than a footnote, and the series has attempted to do no form of storytelling with them beyond surface level observations that honestly feel insulting to the other characters like how the decepticons are just evil now, and the autobots/terrans have lost all nuanced expressions of empathy and solidarity in favor of just "they're generally friendly"

oh and also the evil mushrooms are boring.

Episode 6 review: Man this episode just *feels* wrong, like viscerally.

The show's handling of the chaos terrans just keeps getting worse. There's absolutely NOTHING about spitfire that compels any form of empathy. Like there's not even a mote of her being a troubled and misguided youth, she's just straight up ontologically cruel, like nothing about the conflict in this episode regards a failure to understand, communicate, or empathise with each other, it's just a straight up rejection of those things on both sides. For this chaos terran delinquent analogy thing to work you NEED there to be a sense of humanity or waywardness to them. You NEED to be able to conceive of them as being capable of more than just anger. This just feels meanspirited, especially the way the Maltos have no desire for Spitfire to be better. They just wholeheartedly accept that she's ontologically evil, and honestly, the way she's presented in this episode you'd think they were right, but they're not SUPPOSED to be right.

It sucks too cuz chaos terrans are a great idea

season 1's terrans were all representations of good natured minority kids, particularly third culture kids, who despite their best intentions and kindness end up having to fight for acceptance.

The chaos terrans are a natural progression of that, with depicting kids who end up on the fringe of society because they're inherently different from others and have a harder time being understood, and who don't have a support network to set them straight.

So it starts out in a place where they'd easily be able to build on it, but it's squandered imo. And for several reasons:

1. the Decepticons are 1 dimensional bad guys this season so they fail to capitalize on any potential storytelling they could have done with how their generational resentment might be passed down to the younger generation. They also fail to build any sort of relationship between the Chaos Terrans and the decepticons, so any obligation to stay or debt of gratitude that they might feel is just not there. You get no sense of why they'd want to be decepticons other than wanting to be enabled and encouraged for cruel behavior. They could have given breakdown an actual father son dynamic with aftermath but instead undercut it and play it for laughs.

2. Because the malto's solidarity have been completely watered down into just being "good guys", and never really get to articulate any sort of deeper point in their attempt to appeal to the chaos terrans, so you don't get a sense of how they might help them if they were allowed.

and 3. because the chaos terrans themselves don't really feel like they have much of an inner struggle, interiority, or conflict, it doesn't really feel like there's much of a foothold for

Anyone to latch onto to get through to them. Which makes them feel unredeemable.

so to reiterate and summarize these 3 points; 1. there's no sense of how the chaos terrans are being given negative reinforcement, 2. there's no sense of how the Maltos might help undo this, and 3. there's no sense of how the chaos terrans might want to be helped or not helped.

I understand that like part of the point is that they don't understand the chaos terrans, which supposedly makes them feel more alienated and further pushed towards anger, but there's no nuance or attempt at solidarity to the way these misunderstandings occur. Like there's no hint of Twitch and the Maltos trying their best to reach out to spitfire in meaningful ways. There's no sense of there being some fundamental difference in perspective or circumstance that make them able to understand eachother's point of view, it's just straight up "i tried to be nice but you were mean so now i won't be nice anymore" and it never goes beyond that. It's insulting how easily the Maltos give up on them.

Episode 7: serving as a direct followup to the last, it continues a lot of the same flaws. It squanders any chance of giving Spitfire some depth, like they could have spun her obsessive competitiveness into a deep-seated need for approval or validation or something, but no, she's as one dimensional as her behavior would suggest. Her behavior just becomes more and more destructive to a cartoonish degree where it no longer becomes possible to feel empathy for her.

the whole freaky friday misunderstanding thing too also feels super forced, which isn't helped by the animation failing to convey a lot of ideas.

Comparing this season to season 1 so far, man it just really sucks at juggling the characters. We've had practically 0 focus or development for any of the autobots and decepticons, and the maltos for that matter, despite their overwhelming screentime.

This is likely a casting budget thing. Which is why bumblebee has been demoted from main cast member to a guy who maybe says 2 lines every 3 episodes.

The quality of season 1's writing would go up and down quite drastically between episodes, but so far season 2 has consistently been on par with some of season 1's worse entries. It's juvenile and it has next to nothing to say about anything. Barely even any basic surface level messages, just mostly meaningless antics with next to no focus on exploring characters.

Episode 8 review: it's fine. No notes. It's a competent comedy episode. Fun premise with the whole "thing getting continuously stolen by different people" trope. Basing an episode around optimus's trailer is funny. Animation isn't stellar. Overall it's just an ok episode. I have nothing to say about it other than it's well executed even if it's not very ambitious.

Episode 9/10: okay! End of the season. The finale's mixed for me. In a different universe, this would have been an OK finale for the most part, but the fact that the season has tarnished every single character and plotline from season 1 and made no successful attempt at building anything new of value makes it lack any impact it could have had.

Interesting angle to flip the quintesson creator race narrative that transformers fans are used to. Although they too were an afterthought for this season. Aftermath and Spitfire getting killed really was the rotten cherry on top of their miserable cake. First they're treated like dirt by the story and handled as poorly as they could possibly be, squandering the excellent potential they had, but then they just kill them. Just so starscream's heelturn is even more evil. It honestly feels sad to me that they even bothered to acknowledge the fact that starscream was redeemble in season 1. Just makes it feel even more annoying that they conciously gave up trying to make him nuanced. Some of the animation was good. The shots of terratronus rising were very well composited and communicated the scale extremely well. As for the actual climax, it felt pretty lacking.

Overall a dissapointing season. A shadow of what earthspark was. Most of the characters are completely sidelined (likely for lack of a casting budget), and the few who aren't don't get a single story that feels reminiscent of that immensely strong sense of confident identity that season 1 had.

Hasbro cannot help themselves can they

#transformers #earthspark #tf earthspark #media analysis #talking about cartoons for too long #cartoon #mecha #robot #review #tf #fuck hasbro #essay

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