#feels very shakespearean to me
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aroaessidhe · 4 months ago
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2024 reads / storygraph
The Queens of Innis Lear
slow-moving political fantasy, retelling of the shakespeare tragedy king lear
set in a dying island kingdom, where the prophesy-obsessed king (having neglected the wild magic of the land) must pass on the crown to his three daughters
the elder two hate their father and have been planning their rule for years, and the youngest loves her father and does not want the crown- but does care for the magic of the land
but when the king makes an unforeseen decision, and other kingdoms and spies circle, vying for land and power of their own
earth magic, fate and duty, complicated sister relationships
#The Queens of Innis Lear#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#I thought this was pretty decent. It’s very long though. by the end i was starting to feel the length of it lmao#I don’t really have any familiarity with the original play so I was more approaching it just as any other fantasy book.#It definitely did feel very shakespearean in the plot and how the characters acted though!#I thought the love-and-hate relationship between the sisters was really interesting!#I liked ban in the beginning but by the end he was so annoying. Elia too a bit. didn’t really care about whatever was going on between them#I liked Aefa (the fool’s daughter….also just the inclusion of fools in medieval-esque fantasy)#I did pick this up because I’d heard there was an aroace character. She is one of the 7 or so POV characters#Definitely one of the most interesting characters to me; definitely also plays into some stereotypes.#(cold; brutal; a ‘heart of iron’ - there are other reasons for this; and she’s certainly not a one-dimensional character#(also. i want this kind of aroace character sometimes) but still something to note.#Like I did really like her but also wouldn't necessarily rec people read this for the aroace character (partly just bc of the large cast)#That plus with the fact that she’s described as the darkest skinned (often in tandem with those other descriptors; being brutal; masculine)#is.....hm. a bit uneasy#I’m not sure how well the story handled the Black characters in general tbh but i can’t really make a judgement on that i guess#(I’m hesitant to read books by white authors with Black/biracial MCs regardless; wasn’t aware of this before I started it)#there are couple other bi characters but it’s not SUPER queer otherwise.
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tenthdoctxr · 1 year ago
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gosh that was a beautifully written tragedy? and i loved it.
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julietsf1 · 2 months ago
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Irritating, But Irresistible – Franco Colapinto X Reader
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Summary: Alex Albon’s sister is not happy with Logan’s new replacement who seems to be very sure of himself.
Words: 8k
Warnings: cursing, smut after ***
A/N: this is my first time writing anything, just wanted to do something w franco since there is not much out there yet :) English isn't my first language so I hope it reads okay! smut is just the last part so you can read without and it will still be a complete story *muah*
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It was press conference day at Monza, one of the busiest times during a Formula 1 weekend. I walked through the paddock, juggling my internship deadlines on my phone. Even with my hectic schedule, nothing beat being around the buzz of the F1 world, where I could support my brother Alex and enjoy the company of his friends. Today, however, my thoughts were consumed by Logan’s sudden exit and his replacement.
Franco Colapinto.
I had yet to meet him, but from what Alex had shared, I already had my preconceptions: talented, confident, but most likely arrogant—a rookie straight from Formula 2 who had taken Logan’s seat.
I had been devastated by the news. Of course, Logan hadn’t been performing as well as he did in F2, but he and I had formed a special bond over the course of the past seasons. After every crash, when Logan would be back in the team garage to sit out the race, I had been there to talk with him, and we developed a deep and valuable friendship. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated by the team not sticking with him until Newey would join next season and provide a better car.
As I approached Alex and George Russell, they were already deep in conversation, Alex’s usual easygoing grin on his face as George prattled on with his distinctly old-fashioned vocabulary.
“And I dare say, Alex, it’s an absolute travesty that the press still insists on asking the same infernal questions,” George was saying, sipping from his water bottle. “There’s only so many times one can answer, ‘What’s your strategy for qualifying?’ without going mad.”
Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, George, don’t act like you don’t secretly love the attention.”
George sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “Attention, yes, but repetitive inquiries? It’s rather pedestrian. Honestly, one would expect a touch more intellectual curiosity.”
I grinned, stepping into the conversation. “You should start answering in riddles, George. Give them something to think about.”
George’s eyes lit up, considering the idea seriously. “You know, that’s not half bad. I could begin each answer with a Shakespearean quote. ‘To pit or not to pit, that is the question.’”
Alex burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Please do. It’ll be the highlight of the weekend.”
Before I could join in with my own jab, a smooth voice with a slight spanish accent interrupted our banter. “You must be Alex’s sister.”
I turned, and my breath caught for a second. Standing before me was Franco Colapinto, and he was—well, to be honest, he was a lot more attractive than I had expected. His dark hair was fluffy and slightly tousled as if he had just run a hand through it, giving him a charmingly casual look. His eyes—bright, shining with a mix of mischief and curiosity—immediately met mine, and there was something about the way they sparkled that unsettled me.
Franco stood with a relaxed confidence, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he waited for my response.
“And you must be Logan’s replacement,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended, trying to ignore the little flip in my stomach.
Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but his grin only grew wider, a playful glint in his bright eyes. “Franco Colapinto,” he introduced himself, extending his hand toward me.
I glanced at his hand but didn’t take it, crossing my arms instead. “Y/N.”
Franco didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled softly, undeterred by my cold reception. “Guess I’m not winning you over just yet.”
“You could say that,” I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself from taking in his appearance again—his fluffy hair, the way the sunlight seemed to make his dark eyes even more intense.
“Give it time,” Franco said lightly, his tone soft but still laced with confidence. He shifted his gaze to Alex, giving a friendly nod. “See you up there, mate.”
As Franco walked away to the press room, I couldn’t help but stare after him, irritated by the way my heart skipped a beat. “He’s got some nerve,” I muttered.
Alex, always the peacemaker, sighed beside me. “Don’t be too hard on him, Y/N. He’s just trying to find his place.”
“Yeah, well, Logan had his place, and it was taken from him,” I shot back, folding my arms tighter across my chest.
George, ever the diplomat, chimed in with his usual formal tone. “Alas, it is the nature of this sport, Miss Albon. Drivers come and go as swiftly as the wind changes its course. It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”
I sighed, knowing George was right but still unable to shake my irritation. I cast one last look at Franco, who was now chatting with some team members, his bright eyes still sparkling, that teasing grin still lingering on his lips.
The atmosphere that evening was electric. After a long day of press conferences and media obligations, the some of thedrivers, teams, and close friends gathered for a small party in the paddock’s private area. Music thumped through the speakers, and the energy was light despite the high-pressure weekend ahead.
I found myself by the bar, sipping a drink, trying to focus on my conversation with Lando and Oscar.
“You seriously didn’t even know how to do a basic rumba?” Lando was saying, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Come on, Oscar. I thought Aussies were supposed to know how to dance.”
Oscar smirked, unbothered. “I’m a racing driver, not a dancer. I don’t need rhythm on the track, mate.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Rumba, Lando? That’s what you’re testing him on?”
Lando grinned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know it’s important. It’s all about balance! Quick on your feet, suave with the moves—it’s practically the same thing as cornering at high speed.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure it’s not the same thing.”
“Well,” Lando shrugged, “when the media isn’t on your back, you’ve got to perfect something other than driving. For me, it’s dance moves. For George—” Lando leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “it’s his ancient vocabulary. I heard him use the word ‘beseech’ in an interview once. I thought we’d time-traveled.”
I burst out laughing, picturing George in full seriousness. “Oh my God, that’s so him.”
Lando wasn’t finished, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s not even the best part. He used it to answer a question about tire degradation. I swear!”
Oscar finally cracked a smile, shaking his head. “George could give my grandma a run for her money.”
I was about to add another quip when I caught sight of Franco across the room, his familiar silhouette standing out as he laughed with Max and Daniel. I quickly looked back at my drink, but Lando, ever observant, wasn’t going to let it slide.
“You keep staring at him,” Lando teased, nudging me with a smirk.
“What?” I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not staring.”
Oscar, who had been quietly sipping his drink, glanced at me. “You kind of are.”
I frowned, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m not. I just… don’t like him, that’s all.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re not usually this flustered. It's kind of cute.”
“Shut up, Lando,” I shot back, though my voice lacked the sharpness I intended.
Oscar chuckled softly, glancing toward Franco. “You talk about him more than I’ve heard anyone talk about him since he joined.”
I rolled my eyes, clearly frustrated. “He’s arrogant, alright? Thinks he can just come in and—”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You don’t like him,” Lando interrupted with a grin, clearly not buying it. “But let’s be real—he’s not exactly lacking in the looks department, is he?”
I felt my face flush even more, and before I could respond, a familiar voice broke into the conversation. “What’s with the staring, cariño?”
My heart raced involuntarily, and my cheeks flushed red, but I forced a sarcastic smile. “I—I just don’t like that shirt, that’s all.”
Franco’s playful grin widened as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ll gladly take it off for you if you want me to.”
Lando burst into laughter and took a step back, clearly enjoying the tension. “Oh, I’ll leave you two to sort that out.”
Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a smirk and a knowing nod before following Lando, leaving me and Franco alone.
“You’re way too smug for someone who just got their seat,” I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.
Franco chuckled softly, his dark eyes still sparkling with amusement. “They brought me here for a reason, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with being self-assured.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat as I found myself staring at his eyes again—the way they seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His presence unnerved me in a way that no one else ever had.
“I’ll prove it to you,” Franco said quietly, stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly, filled with both promise and challenge. He softly brushed his hand against my arm, the touch sending a shiver through me. “Just watch.”
Before I could respond, Max’s voice boomed from across the room. “Oi, Franco! Stop flirting! I got us another round of gin tonics!”
Franco glanced over his shoulder and smirked before turning back to me. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft and teasing, before walking off, leaving me standing there, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to admit.
Friday morning’s free practice was the perfect chance for the teams to fine-tune their setups before qualifying, but for me, it was another opportunity to watch Franco. I stood in the Williams garage, my arms crossed as I kept one eye on the lap times flashing on the screen, the other on Franco’s progress on track.
“How’s he looking?” I asked Alex, trying to keep my tone neutral, but the curiosity in my voice betrayed me.
Alex, who had already come back into the garage mid-session, didn’t look away from the data in front of him. “Decent. He’s still getting used to the car, but he’s quick. He’s got potential, Y/N.”
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Potential doesn’t win races, though.”
Alex glanced at me with a grin. “You’re tough. Give him a break. He’s still new.”
Before I could argue back, James Vowles, the Williams team principal, stepped into the conversation, his voice measured and commanding, but always reassuring. “Patience, Y/N. Drivers need time to grow, especially in this environment. Franco’s performance has been promising so far, and that’s all we can ask for at this stage.”
I smirked, shaking my head. “I’m not sure Franco’s the ‘take time to grow’ type. He’s way too sure of himself.”
James folded his arms, smiling slightly while shaking his head. “Confidence is a tool, Y/N. If used correctly, it can be an asset. And from what I’ve seen, Franco understands that balance. Let’s not underestimate him too soon.”
Alex chuckled, nudging me. “Even James is on his side. Come on, give the guy a chance.”
As if summoned by the conversation, Franco’s Williams car came flying past the garage on track, a blur of blue and white as it whipped around the corner. I watched his lap times closely—each split was faster than the last.
“Looks like he’s getting the hang of it,” Alex said, raising an eyebrow toward me.
I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “Fine. He’s… better than I thought. But that doesn’t mean anything yet.”
After the second practice session ended and the drivers returned to the garage, I found myself lingering near the pit wall, watching as the cars were rolled back into the garage. Franco emerged from his car, pulling off his helmet, his fluffy hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was wiping his brow with the sleeve of his race suit when his eyes caught mine.
Franco approached me with that familiar, irritating grin. “Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice light but teasing as always.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound unimpressed. “It’s fine. Could be better.”
Franco chuckled softly, stopping just close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the track’s lingering heat. “You’ve got high standards, I see.”
“I am just realistic,” I shot back, finally meeting his gaze. “Not sure you’ll live up to your own expectations, Colapinto.”
For a second, Franco’s playful smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I can meet—and exceed—any expectations you’ve got for me.”
I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big words for someone who hasn’t proved anything yet.”
Franco took a step closer, the teasing edge in his voice never fading. “Oh, I’ll prove it. Just keep watching.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a murmur. “You’ll be impressed soon enough.”
My pulse quickened as his words hung in the air. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Franco winked and stepped back.
“You can tell me what you think tomorrow,” he added over his shoulder, walking away with that infuriating confidence, leaving me standing there, frustrated and flustered all at once.
Just as I tried to collect myself, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, wandered over. Her soft, sweet demeanor was the perfect counter to the high-pressure environment.
“Everything okay, Y/N?” she asked gently, noticing the slight tension still lingering on my face.
I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. “He’s impossible.”
Lily smiled knowingly, tilting her head. “I’ve seen you two talking more and more recently. Doesn’t seem like you think he’s that impossible.”
“He is trust me,” I muttered, though my tone was less convincing now.
Lily gave me a soft, encouraging smile, her voice gentle and kind. “You know, sometimes it’s okay to let your guard down. Not everyone’s as bad as they seem at first.”
I looked at Lily, rolling my eyes but feeling the truth in her words sink in. “You really think he’s a good guy?”
Lily shrugged with a sweet grin. “Maybe. I think you’re more interested in finding that out than you want to admit.”
I shook my head, but the feeling that maybe—just maybe—Lily was right gnawed at me as I watched Franco walk away, his figure disappearing into the garage.
Saturday was always charged with anticipation—qualifying day. The pressure in the paddock was thick, and I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air as I wandered through the bustling paddock. Every team member was focused, every driver mentally preparing for the intense session ahead. I, on the other hand, was lost in my thoughts, trying to distract myself from the growing irritation I felt whenever Franco popped into my mind.
Why does he always have to be so smug? I thought, frowning to myself as I made my way toward the drivers’ rooms. Always with the teasing, always with that stupid grin.
I was looking for Alex, but my mind was still tangled in thoughts of Franco—how his words had lingered from yesterday’s exchange, how his presence had become harder and harder to ignore. Whether it was the playful sparkle in his bright eyes or the way his fluffy, tousled hair fell effortlessly, something about him unsettled me.
Absentmindedly, I pushed open a door, not thinking twice about it—until I froze.
There stood Franco, half-dressed.
He was in the middle of pulling on his race suit, shirtless, his toned torso on full display. His skin gleamed under the soft lights of the room, and his dark hair was slightly damp, falling in messy waves over his forehead. He hadn’t noticed me at first, but when he looked up, his dark eyes locked on mine, surprise flickering across his face. It didn’t last long, though—his expression quickly shifted into that familiar, teasing grin I had come to expect.
“Well, well,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect you to walk in on me like this, but I’m not complaining.”
I froze, my cheeks flushing as I struggled to recover my composure. “I wasn’t—this isn’t—I was looking for Alex!” I stammered, my voice sharper than I intended.
Franco raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing wider. “Uh-huh. Sure you were.”
My irritation flared, and I crossed my arms, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Don’t flatter yourself, Colapinto. This was clearly a mistake.”
Franco took a step closer, his tone still light, but the teasing in his eyes unmistakable. “A mistake, huh? Yet, here you are. Still standing here.”
My pulse quickened, and I cursed my body for reacting to his presence. He was too close now, and the space between us felt charged, heavy with something I didn’t want to name.
“You’re full of yourself, you know that?” I shot back, lifting my chin, refusing to be intimidated.
Franco chuckled softly, his eyes locked on mine. “Maybe. But you seem pretty caught up in me for someone who claims not to care.”
I scoffed, stepping back but finding myself backed against the door. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible?” Franco echoed, the amusement never leaving his voice. “Or just irresistible?”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “In your dreams, maybe.”
Franco’s gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, the teasing edge faded. “You keep acting like this, but I see through it.”
I frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Acting like what?”
He shrugged, taking another small step closer, his voice lower now. “Like you hate me. But every time we talk, it feels like something else is going on.”
My breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. I hated that he could read me so easily, hated the way he made me feel like I was constantly on the back foot.
“Don’t get it twisted, Franco,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “You annoy me. That’s it.”
Franco smirked again, but there was something different in his eyes now—a challenge. “If you say so. But if I annoy you so much, why do you keep ending up here? In my space?”
I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, not one I was willing to admit out loud. The truth was, every time we clashed, it felt like the air between us was crackling with more than just annoyance. But I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
“I’m here because I thought this was Alex’s room,” I said finally, the sharpness returning to my voice. “Don’t read too much into it.”
Franco laughed softly, his expression softening as he stepped back, giving me some space but still keeping that annoying smirk. “Alright. But next time you want to drop by, just knock.”
I shot him a glare, my frustration flaring again. “You wish.”
With that, I turned on my heel and reached for the door, determined to leave the awkwardness behind. But before I could open it, Franco leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’ll be back.”
I whipped my head around, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t count on it.”
Franco chuckled as he watched me go, shaking his head in amusement. “See you around, Y/N.”
The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My mind was spinning, my heart racing, and the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn smirk.
Inside the room, Franco finished pulling on his suit, a small smile still tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help it—there was something about me that made every interaction feel like a game, one he was very much enjoying.
By the time qualifying ended, Franco had placed 18th—not spectacular, but solid enough for a rookie still adjusting to the car. The Williams team seemed satisfied with the result, and after the session, I found myself lingering in the pitlane, chatting with Oscar and Lando, both of whom were waiting for their post-quali interviews.
Lando, ever the jokester, leaned against the wall with a grin. “You know,” he said, “I like that guy. He’s got that cheeky energy. A bit like me.”
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Great, that’s exactly what we need—two Lando Norrises.”
Lando laughed, nudging me playfully. “Hey, the world would be lucky.”
Oscar, always the calm and collected one, stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got to admit,” he said casually, “Franco’s improving. He’s faster than last time.”
I shrugged, unimpressed. “Yeah, well, let’s see if that holds up. Confidence doesn’t always mean results.”
Lando grinned, nudging me with a playful elbow. “You’re only saying that because you don’t want to admit he’s growing on you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He’s not growing on me. If anything, he’s just growing more annoying.”
Oscar smirked, glancing between me and Lando. “Annoying, huh? Funny how you keep talking about him, though.”
Before I could respond, Franco appeared, fresh from his post-session debrief. He looked as smug as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders, his hair slightly damp. He caught my eye immediately, his usual grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Franco approached, clearly enjoying the way I tensed up at his arrival. His grin grew wider, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks even before he said a word.
“What’s this? Talking about me again, Y/N?” he teased, his voice smooth as always.
I crossed my arms, determined not to let him get under my skin. “I’m pretty sure not everything’s about you, Franco.”
Lando, grinning like a Cheshire cat, leaned over to Franco, speaking just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, mate, trust me. She’s been talking about you all day.”
Franco’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Really?”
My face flushed as I shot Lando a warning look. “Lando!”
Lando threw his hands up in mock surrender, enjoying every second of my discomfort. “I’m just saying what I see. You’ve been all eyes on Colapinto here. Don’t blame me for stating facts.”
Oscar chuckled softly, his quiet amusement adding to the playful atmosphere. “It’s true. You’ve mentioned him at least three times already.”
I glared at both of them, my irritation growing by the second. “You two are impossible.”
Franco chuckled, stepping closer to me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. I saw the way you looked at me this morning. You can admit it—you’ve been thinking about me.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange with quiet curiosity, while Lando stood by, grinning like he was watching his favorite sitcom unfold.
“Thinking about how you’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met? Maybe,” I shot back, refusing to back down as Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes sparkling with mischief.
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Franco said smoothly, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart race.
I was about to retort when Alex joined us, clapping Franco on the back. “Good session, man. You’re getting faster.”
Franco nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Thanks, but it seems like Y/N here has higher standards than the rest of you.”
Lando smirked, clearly loving the drama. “Oh, she does. Don’t take it personally, Franco. She’s got high standards for all of us.”
I glared at Lando, but before I could say anything, Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes still locked on mine. “Good thing I love a challenge.”
I scoffed, tightening my arms across my chest. “Trust me, Colapinto, you’ve got a long way to go before you meet my standards.”
Franco’s grin only widened. “Good thing I’m persistent.”
Before I could respond, Alex laughed, clearly oblivious to the tension bubbling between us. “Alright, let’s cool it before the next round of banter turns into an all-out war. Y/N, we’re having dinner with the guys tonight—join us?”
I hesitated, my gaze flicking between Alex and Franco, who was still watching me with that infuriating smirk.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” I muttered, “just need to freshen up a bit,” shooting Franco one last look before heading toward the paddock exit.
“Fun! We’ll meet you in the lobby at 8!” Alex called after me as I walked away, while the guys gathered for their post-qualifying interviews.
Dinner that evening was supposed to be a chance to unwind after the high-pressure qualifying session, but the moment I realized Franco was joining us, my mood soured. I hadn’t expected him to be part of the group, assuming it would just be me, Alex, George, Oscar, and Lando. But as soon as I saw him enter the restaurant, his easy confidence on full display, I knew the night wasn’t going to go as planned.
Of course he’s here, I thought, rolling my eyes as he slipped into the seat across from me, wearing that same infuriating smirk.
Franco greeted everyone with casual charm, clearly enjoying himself, but every glance he threw my way felt designed to provoke me. It didn’t help that Lando, seated beside me, was in a particularly mischievous mood.
Soon enough, the waiter came over to take our orders, and things started to get even more interesting.
“Alright, what’ll it be?” the waiter asked.
“I’ll take the risotto,” Alex said, glancing at the menu one last time before handing it over.
"Might I be so bold as to request the same for myself?" George added.
Oscar ordered quickly, as calm and collected as ever. “Just a steak, medium-rare, thanks.”
I scanned the menu, trying not to think about Franco sitting directly across from me. I settled on my favorite pasta dish, handing my menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the truffle ravioli.”
When the waiter turned to Franco, I braced myself for whatever cheeky comment he was about to make.
“I’ll go for the truffle ravioli,” he said, then paused, glancing at me with a smirk. “But only if it’s as good as they say it is.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s ravioli, Franco. Not a fine wine. Relax.”
Lando, who had clearly been enjoying the tension building between us, grinned as he scanned the menu. “I’ll have the spaghetti. Extra sauce.”
“Surprising,” I deadpanned, “I thought you’d go for something a bit less… messy.”
Lando leaned back, tossing his menu aside with dramatic flair. “Messy? You must not follow the gossip pages, Y/N. I love messy. Besides, I have big plans for this spaghetti.”
Alex groaned. “Please behave.”
Lando wiggled his eyebrows, already looking pleased with himself. “Oh, just wait.”
As the waiter left, the group settled into casual conversation, the mood light despite the simmering tension between Franco and me. Alex, always the big brother, couldn’t resist dragging me into an embarrassing memory.
“You should’ve seen Y/N when she decided she was going to be an inventor,” Alex began, grinning as I sighed dramatically. “She built this elaborate ‘trap’ to catch the family cat. We’re talking string, boxes, and a broomstick involved—it looked like something out of Home Alone.”
I groaned. “Oh God, here we go.”
Alex was enjoying himself too much to stop. “She spent hours perfecting it. She swore it would work. And guess what? It didn’t catch the cat—it caught Mum instead.”
Lando burst into laughter, his eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N, an engineer in the making! I would’ve paid to see that.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay, it wasn’t my best idea, but it wasn’t that bad!”
Alex snorted. “Mum had to wriggle out of it while holding the groceries. To this day, she doesn’t trust any ‘surprise’ Y/N sets up.”
Franco, who had been quietly following the story, leaned forward with his signature smirk. “Sounds like I need to watch my back around you, Y/N.”
I shot him a look, my voice dry but teasing. “Trust me, I’ve improved since then. You wouldn’t see it coming.”
Franco smirked. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”
Before I could reply, the waiter returned with our food. Plates were placed in front of us, and Lando’s spaghetti arrived with an extra helping of sauce just as he’d requested.
“Oh, yes,” Lando said, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous child. “Now, let the fun begin.”
It looked like he was up to his usual antics, twirling his spaghetti with great concentration, his grin widening as he arranged the strings very carefully on his plate.
“Lando,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you doing?”
Lando leaned back, arms crossed proudly as he surveyed his masterpiece. “Creating art, Y/N. Pure, unadulterated art.”
"Goodness gracious, Lando we are at a bloody restaurant!" George put on his sunglasses, trying his best to distance himself from the childlike behaviour of his friend.
I glanced down at his plate and burst out laughing. “Bunda? Seriously?”
Lando’s grin only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man of culture.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yeah, spelling ‘BUNDA’ with spaghetti really says a lot about you. Deep.”
Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch, mate. I’m expressing myself here.”
I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity. But despite the humor, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, watching every move I made.
As the evening wore on, the banter at the table continued, but the undercurrent of tension between Franco and me was impossible to ignore. Every time I looked up, I caught him watching me—his eyes glinting with amusement, like he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin. It was maddening, yet I couldn’t deny the strange pull that kept drawing my attention back to him.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, I decided to address the elephant in the room.
“So,” I began, cutting through the chatter at the table, “Franco, how does it feel stepping into a seat that wasn’t exactly yours?”
The table went quiet almost instantly. Alex shot me a look—half warning, half pleading—but I ignored it, my eyes locked on Franco. I couldn’t hold back the resentment that had been simmering for weeks. Logan had been my friend, and I wasn’t about to let Franco think he could just waltz in and take his place without any consequences.
Franco’s smile faltered for just a second, but he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m here because I earned it,” he replied evenly, his voice calm but with an edge. “Not my fault if others couldn’t keep up.”
I didn’t back down. “I don’t think you earned it. I think you’re just here because of the sponsors. Anyone can see there are plenty of drivers with more potential than you.”
Franco’s jaw tightened slightly, and the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. The atmosphere around the table shifted, and even Lando, who had been proudly admiring his spaghetti art, stopped mid-bite to watch the exchange.
“Y/N,” Alex said softly, trying to ease the tension, but I barely registered his voice.
Franco’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t need to justify my place to you.”
I leaned in, my voice cold. “You don’t have to. It’s already obvious why you’re here.”
Franco’s eyes flashed with something darker, but instead of responding with the sharp retort I expected, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”
Without another word, Franco walked away, leaving me sitting there, my own words hanging in the air. The weight of what I had said settled in, a knot of guilt forming in my chest. Maybe I had gone too far.
Lando let out a low whistle. “Well… that escalated quickly.”
Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/N, that was harsh. You didn’t have to push him like that.”
Oscar, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “You’re allowed to be upset, Y/N, but that wasn’t the way to handle it.”
I didn’t respond immediately. I knew they were right—deep down, I knew—but something about Franco just set me off in ways I couldn’t control.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” Alex said, his tone softening as he looked at me, “but you need to talk it out before this gets worse.”
I glanced toward the door where Franco had disappeared, the guilt gnawing at me. Franco had a way of bringing out the worst in me, and now, I wasn’t sure how to fix it.
Later that night, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out of the hotel window at the glowing city lights below. The confrontation with Franco during dinner replayed in my mind, each pass making me feel worse. I hated how easily he got to me, how every exchange with him seemed to spiral into something bigger than it needed to be. But what bothered me most was that deep down, it wasn’t just anger. There was something else beneath the frustration—something I didn’t want to admit.
A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment before standing up to answer it. When I opened the door, Alex stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his expression a mix of concern and that familiar big-brother teasing.
“Mind if I come in?” he asked.
I stepped aside, letting him in without saying a word. Alex walked over to the small seating area near the window and sat down, waiting for me to join him. The silence stretched between us for a moment before he finally spoke.
“You want to talk about it?”
I sighed, closing the door and sitting across from him. “Not really.”
Alex chuckled softly. “You sure? Because I’ve been watching you two for a while now, and it’s pretty clear something’s going on.”
I ran a hand through my hair, avoiding his gaze. “He just—he gets under my skin.”
“That much is obvious,” Alex said, his tone light but not unkind. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling up again. “I thought I couldn’t stand him. He’s arrogant, cocky, always trying to show off… but today, I pushed too far. And I know it.”
Alex nodded, watching me closely. “Franco’s sure of himself, yeah, but did you ever think that maybe he has to be so overly confident? The media and Netflix are always after us already, let alone if you replace someone halfway through the season. He’s not a bad guy, Y/N. You’ve been pretty hard on him since he joined.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. “You’re right. I just didn’t expect him to… I don’t know, get to me like this.”
Alex leaned back, giving me a thoughtful look. “Y/N, you’re used to having things figured out—people, situations. But Franco doesn’t fit into that box you tried to put him in, and it’s throwing you off.”
I frowned, feeling the truth of Alex’s words sink in. I had been so sure of what kind of person Franco was, but the more time I spent around him, the harder it became to keep him in that neat little box I had created.
“He’s different than I thought,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s still confident, but there’s more to him than just the cocky guy I thought he was.”
Alex smiled softly. “Exactly. So maybe instead of pushing him away, you should try to figure out what’s really going on between the two of you.”
I bit my lip, my heart heavy with guilt. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”
Alex chuckled, his voice gentle. “You won’t know until you try. Talk to him. You’ll feel better once you do.”
Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind spinning with guilt and frustration. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Franco’s face when I pushed him too far at dinner. I knew I had crossed a line, but admitting it was harder than I thought.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself slipping out of bed, grabbing my jacket to cover my nightgown, and quietly leaving my hotel room. The hallway was dimly lit, and the quiet hum of the city outside felt distant as I made my way toward Franco’s room.
My heart pounded as I reached his door. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was a good idea. But before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked softly.
The door swung open, and Franco stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still slightly damp, as if he had just showered.
“Y/N?” he asked, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”
I swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of my nerves. “I—I came to apologize.”
Franco crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes watching me carefully. “For what, exactly?”
I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. “For what I said at dinner. I… I was out of line. I let my frustration get the better of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
For a moment, Franco didn’t say anything. He simply studied me, his expression unreadable, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t quite place.
Finally, he sighed, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in. “You might as well come in. We shouldn’t do this in the hallway.”
I hesitated, but eventually stepped into Franco’s room, the door clicking shut behind me. The air between us was thick, the unspoken tension hanging like a storm ready to break. Franco leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched me carefully, his dark eyes searching my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.
“I didn’t expect you to apologize,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, softer but still holding that familiar edge. “You’ve been pretty set on hating me.”
I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t hate you. I was just… frustrated. I thought you were just this arrogant guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself, but you’re not like that. You surprised me, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Franco’s expression softened, but there was still a teasing spark in his eyes. “Surprised you, huh? So I’m not as terrible as you thought?”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the tension in the room. “Not completely terrible I guess.”
We stood there in the quiet for a moment, the weight of the apology settling between us. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in his gaze that made my heart race, something that had been there all along but that I’d refused to acknowledge.
“You didn’t have to come here,” Franco said, his voice low, a slight vulnerability in his tone that caught me off guard. “But I’m glad you did.”
My breath caught in my throat as the distance between us suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. The tension that had simmered for so long now felt like it was about to snap, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. But I couldn’t move away, couldn’t bring myself to break the moment.
Instead, I took a step closer, my heart racing as our eyes locked. The silence between us felt heavy, full of things neither of us was willing to say, but we didn’t need words. I could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze softened, in the way my pulse quickened.
Franco reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine. His touch was hesitant at first, almost as if he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I took another step closer, closing the gap between us, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
When he leaned in, it wasn’t sudden—it was slow, deliberate. His lips brushed against mine softly at first, a hesitant kiss that quickly deepened as the tension between us finally broke. My hands found their way to his chest, and I felt the warmth of his skin beneath his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.
The kiss was everything we had held back, all the frustration and unspoken attraction we had been pretending didn’t exist. It was slow at first, then more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for all the time we had wasted fighting it.
Franco’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek as he kissed me, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want to admit how badly I had wanted this, how much I had been waiting for this moment, even though I had denied it to myself for so long.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. My hands were still pressed against his chest, and his arms stayed firmly around my waist, neither of us willing to break the connection completely.
Franco was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with a soft amusement. “So, I guess that’s one way to make up.”
I laughed lightly, my heart still racing. “Maybe.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me properly, his gaze more serious now but still holding that familiar teasing edge. “You know, I didn’t think this would happen.”
“Me either,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not mad about it.”
Franco’s lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned in again, this time pressing a softer, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away entirely. He didn’t let go of me completely, though, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked at me, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could name.
“We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with something deeper. “But I think we both know there’s more going on here than just… whatever this is.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. He was right, of course. This was more than just the heat of the moment—it had been building for a while, even if neither of us had been willing to admit it. But now that the tension had finally broken, it felt like there was no going back.
“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice soft. “There’s definitely more.”
***
He looked me deeply into my eyes before closing the space between us again. When our lips met again, it wasn’t the tentative kiss from before—this time, it was full of fire, all the pent-up tension and frustration we had been holding onto. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and my hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair.
Everything felt heightened—the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the way my body responded to every move he made. There was a sense of inevitability between us, like this moment had always been coming, but now that it was here, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
As we stumbled backward toward the bed, the kisses deepened, more urgent now. Franco’s hands found the hem of my dress, his touch both careful and eager, as though he wanted to savor every moment spent undressing me. My heart raced in anticipation, my skin humming under his fingertips.
Franco softly pushed me onto the bed, taking a few seconds to admire the sight before him before taking off his shirt and lowering himself onto me. My breath hitched as Franco’s lips trailed down my neck, each kiss sending sparks through my body. 
“Fuck you are so beautiful.” He softly mumbled, making heartbeat race even faster. What was this man doing to you?
His kisses softened around your inner thighs. 
“Do you want me to keep going?”
Awakened from my trance, I opened my eyes and looked down to meet his. “Please, don’t stop.”
That same cocky grin reappeared on his face. “Are you expectations as high as they are for my driving?”
I rolled your eyes. “Stop with the jokes Franco, I need you, please!”
“I’ve been waiting to hear that all weekend”
Without hesitation he roughly pulled down my lacy black panties, inserting one finger into my core while his tongue worked my already swollen clit. 
Sweet moans filled the room like music as he added another finger inside me. I could feel him smile down there.
“Can’t believe how wet you are for me. It’s so sexy.”
Soon my back started arching involuntarily. My hands, that were softly stroking through his hair as he worked me, now began gripping his dark brown locks tightly.
“Fuck Franco I’m so close.” I moaned, heart racing in my chest. 
To my disappointment he pulled away. Before I had the chance to start whining, he pulled down his sweats to reveal his huge dick. With lustful eyes I looked the beautiful man standing in front of me up and down. He looked incredible, the messy hair making him even sexier. 
He climbed back on top of me, softly kissing me, leaving me to taste my own excitement on his lips. 
Leaning over, he gently kissed my ears. “I want to feel you finish around me.” he whispered in his low husky voice.
Before the excitement had even reached my core, he slid his dick in, leaving no time for me to adjust to his size. He started ramming into me at dangerous pace, leaving me to cry out from the mixture the pain and pleasure. 
Franco’s hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming, as though he had been craving this moment for too long. Every touch, every sound was laced with the weight of everything we had been holding back.
My breath hitched as he pulled out and flipped me over. His hands gliding over my ass while he repositioned himself in front of my entrance. 
“Where do you want me to cum later?” he asked, while grabbing my hair, giving it a little tug.
“In my mouth please.” My voice was hitchy from the thrill. 
I felt Franco’s dick twitch against me. He pulled me up to him by my hair and began kissing my neck more, his free hand playing with my boob.
“Is that so? And are you going to swallow it for me?”
I moaned. “Happily.”
He let go of my hair which led me to fall back on all fours on the mattress. I felt the palm of his hand smack hard against my ass, breath caught in my throat, my body trembling in response to his. He slid in and sweet sensations filled my body yet again. 
As the intensity built, Franco’s voice dropped to a whisper, his breath hot against my skin. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”
My only response was a soft gasp, my body arching toward his. I could feel the raw need in every movement, in the way his hands gripped mine tighter, his lips tracing fire along my skin. The tension that had been crackling between the two of you for weeks finally exploded in a wave of release, leaving us both breathless.
“Franco I-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence as a wave of pleasure went through my body.
He kept going as I completely soaked him, the wet pounding and both of your moans being the only sound in the room. 
When he was close, he flipped you over again to face him, stroking his long dick a couple times while I opened my mouth for him.  While I looked deeply into his glistering eyes, he released into my mouth. The warm salty taste made me ecstatic, sucking him off to make sure I had every last drop to swallow. 
Exhausted, we both let ourselves fall down on the bed. Heavy breathing filling the room.
“Such a good girl for me.” Franco smiled as he brushed through my hair. He pulled me closer in his muscular arms, our bodies still pressed close, the remainder of the storm we had just weathered lingering in the quiet of the room. Franco’s fingers traced light patterns along my arm, his breath still uneven as he looked at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just satisfaction.
I smiled, heart still racing but in a calmer, more settled way now. “Neither was I.”
We both didn’t need to say anything more. The silence was comfortable now, the tension replaced by a quiet understanding that whatever had just happened had changed things. As the two of us lay together, the connection that had once been full of conflict now felt like something new, something Franco and I both wanted to explore.
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sadnymi · 8 months ago
Text
「 ✦ Silent treatment. ✦ 」 Mattheo riddle x reader
Summary: Giving Mattheo the silent treatment after an argument wasn't the best idea after all
Words: 5k
Warning: [smut , heavy smut , strong language NSFW]
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On days like these, I feel an overwhelming urge to rearrange Mattheo's face. Despite our discussions and my heartfelt pleas, he seems to have a remarkable talent for ignoring everything I say.
The memory of our conversation echoed in my mind: my desperate pleas for him to leave that wretched boy alone, the hollow promises he'd made to appease me.
And now, that very same boy was lying in the hospital. Quite a coincidence, isn't it?
The cold shoulder was the only response I could muster, a potent cocktail of disappointment and anger simmering just beneath.
"Look," he started, a cocky edge to his voice, "that jerk had it coming. You can't just let people walk all over you."
My blood ran cold. He wasn't remorseful, he was proud. My icy glare intensified.
"So you think injuring someone and getting them suspended is the answer?" I countered, my voice laced with controlled fury.
He shrugged, a nonchalant act that did little to hide the flicker of unease in his eyes. "He'll learn his lesson," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
“ so , are you “ my voice tinged with disappointment as I turned away, leaving him behind. Maybe I wasn't that hungry after all
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
"Ah, I see you're in the mood for a silent treatment today," he remarked dryly as he leaned against the nearby wall, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Must be a new strategy in the art of communication, or perhaps it's just your way of keeping things exciting."
"Either way," he continued, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "I'm impressed by your dedication to the cause. Who needs words when we can communicate through meaningful silence, right?" His eyes sparkled with amusement as he waited for my response, clearly enjoying the playful banter.
"Meaningful silence?" I scoffed. "That's a new one, Mattheo. Very poetic."
He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Hey, I'm just trying to keep up with your level of dramatics."
I crossed my arms, feigning offense. "My dramatics? You're the one who turns every situation into a Shakespearean tragedy."
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Is that so? Well, I suppose every play needs a leading lady."
I couldn't help but smile despite myself. "And what role do you think you play in this drama?"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The charming rogue, of course. The one who keeps the plot interesting."
I shook my head. "You certainly do that, Mattheo. Whether I like it or not."
His grin was infectious. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now, are you ready to break the silence and actually talk to me?"
“actually I have something to do “ i said
As I turned to leave, Mattheo's taunting words followed me. "Ignite me, Lady Macbeth."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself," I retorted.
He grabbed my arm lightly as I tried to walk away. "Don't roll your eyes unless you want this conversation to continue somewhere else y/n "
"I have something important to do," I replied coolly, trying to free my arm from his grasp.
He persisted, asking, "Like what?"
"Visiting a patient in the hospital," I said, finally pulling away and smiling.
Mattheo chuckled. "You'll regret this little act, baby."
"I thought we were in a play," I quipped before turning and walking away.
Truth be told, I had no intention of visiting that snobby Gryffindor in the hospital. Mattheo's broken promise irked me, but I couldn't muster any sympathy for the boy who got what he deserved.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
As the days went by, Mattheo's attempts to regain my attention became more evident. He started showing up unexpectedly in places I frequented, always with a casual excuse or a playful remark.
But today , today was something else , he deliberately sat closer to a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls, laughing a little too loudly at their jokes and engaging in animated conversation.
I couldn't help but notice, my eyes flickering over to his table every now and then. It was frustrating how effortlessly he could draw attention, even when he wasn't trying. I busied myself with my own friends, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that crept into my chest.
However, Mattheo wasn't done with his antics. As the meal progressed, he caught my eye from across the room and winked mischievously. It was a subtle gesture, but it made my heart race in a way I didn't want to admit.
Feeling a surge of annoyance mixed with curiosity, I excused myself from my friends and made my way over to his table. "What's with the show?" I asked, trying to sound unaffected.
Mattheo grinned, leaning back in his chair casually. "Just trying to keep things interesting," he replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's not every day I get to make you jealous."
I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "You wish."
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Admit it, you were totally watching ."
“ well played riddle well played “ I walked away
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The days crawled by, each one painted in shades of frosty silence between Matteo and me. Rumors swirled around the school like rogue Bludgers. Had we finally called it quits? The question hung heavy in the air, fueled by Mattheo's brooding demeanor and my own steely resolve.
One particularly dreary afternoon, I found myself drowning my sorrows (or at least trying to ) in a big cup of apple juice in the library. Lost in a dusty tome about ancient magical creatures, I barely registered the approaching figure until a shadow fell across the page.
Looking up, I encountered a smug face I vaguely recognized – Zacharias Clifton, a Quidditch player from Ravenclaw notorious for his greasy hair and even greasier personality. "Mind if I join you, lovely?" he drawled, his voice dripping with a forced charm that made me cringe.
Before I could muster a response, he slid into the seat opposite me, invading my personal space with a confidence that reeked of entitlement. "So, I hear you're single these days," he continued, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.
I gritted my teeth, the urge to hex him into a toad growing stronger by the second. Just as I was about to unleash a verbal scathing of epic proportions, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Actually, Clifton, she's very much taken."
Mattheo stood in the doorway, his usual swagger amplified tenfold. His gaze, however, wasn't directed at Zacharias, but at me. A flicker of something that looked suspiciously like possessiveness crossed his features before he turned his attention back to the unwelcome visitor.
"See your broomstick awaits," Mattheo said, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't let me keep you from your precious practice."
Zacharias, his face a comical shade of purple, sputtered something incoherent before gathering his dignity (or what little he possessed) and retreating with a disgruntled scowl.
The library door swung shut with a satisfying thud, leaving Mattheo and me alone in the hushed silence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm that seemed to echo in the stillness.
Mattheo took a tentative step forward, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently settling on the back of my chair. "Can we talk?" he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.
"Yeah, just not here," I managed to get the words out, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Lead the way," he said, his arm tightening around me possessively as we walked out of the library
The anger that had simmered within me for days threatened to fade once I saw him, and it just hit me how much I missed him.
As we made our way to our secret chamber (the hidden chamber we found last year and claimed as ours),tucked away from the curious eyes and whispers of Hogwarts, Mattheo's touch took on a possessive edge. His hands found every excuse to claim me, a silent proclamation to the entire school that I was still his .
With each step down the narrow passage, Mattheo drew me closer, his fingertips tracing tantalizing patterns on my skin. The sensation sent delightful shivers through me, igniting a quiet thrill of belonging in his arms amidst the bustling halls of our magical world.
The soft glow of the hidden chamber beckoned us, casting an enchanting ambiance that mirrored the intimacy between us.
As soon as we were finally in , I turned to him,my voice tinged with anger."What was that all about ? A show for the audience ? "
He met my gaze, a playful glint simmering beneath the surface of his seriousness. "Just reminding everyone that you're happily taken."
"Happily?" I scoffed, pushing against his arm, "We haven't spoken a word to each other in days!"
He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And whose fault is that, love? " His warm breath tickled my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine.
My cheeks burned, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely swirling within me. "Yeah, going to blame that all on me now?"
"No," he paused, his eyes searching mine. "I just don’t understand why you're so mad about what I did to that perk."
I sighed, "it’s not about him , Mattheo… You know that," I conceded, my voice softer than I intended. "It’s about the promise you made and broke. You know how much I hate that."
It stirred up emotions I'd rather forget. Let's just say, coming from a family where promises were often broken had its drawbacks.
"So you've chosen to give me the silent treatment instead of talking it out? Is that your solution y/n?"
I scoffed, crossing my arms defensively. "I didn’t expect it to drag on this long. I was upset,but Maybe then I get tired of being treated like an afterthought."
"An afterthought?" he scoffed back, incredulous. "You haven't spoken to me in days!"
"And whose fault is that?" I shot back, my voice rising. "You waltzed over to those Ravenclaw girls like they were the only ones who existed!"
"That was a stupid attempt to get your attention, alright!" he snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I never meant to make you feel like an afterthought."
"But you did!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the damp chamber.
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "I messed up, okay? I know that! But instead of talking to me about it, you shut me out."
"And what was I supposed to do?" I countered, my voice softening slightly. "Sit back and watch you flirt with every girl who walks by?"
"It wasn't flirting!" he defended, his voice strained.
"Then what was it?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked an awful lot like flirting."
"That's not fair," he said, his voice low. "And what about what you said? Visiting that perk in the hospital? Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face
"Maybe I overreacted about Michael," I mumbled, finally breaking the silence.
"Maybe you did," he agreed cautiously anger in his eyes and lips so close to mine
“it’s really fucking rich of you to push the blame into me “ I screamed in his face frustration boiling over
“yet i was the only one putting in the effort to fix things!” He said back with lips so close to mine
“you didn’t even —” pulling me close. In a rush his lips were on mine I didn’t get to finish the words . It took a few moments for me to come to my senses; letting my eyes flutter closed as i kissed him back. The kiss wasn't gentle or sweet. It was needy and heated as mattheo’s tongue moved against mine.
In an instant, I found myself pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring me hungrily. His hand on the back of my neck drew me closer, while the other rested on my waist, kneading the flesh there. He pulled away slightly, speaking against my lips “ jump”He ordered, and I complied wrapping my legs around him
"Mattheo—" He silenced me once more with a kiss.
His black hair was hanging down into his face, so i pushed it back. 
As he ended the kiss, his hands reached for my robe, tossing it aside. Next, his fingers trailed to the hem of my shirt, pulling it upward. Throughout, his gaze remained locked with mine as he removed the shirt, adding it to the pile on the ground. . “If you just wanted a dirty fuck , you should have just asked” 
Gently placing me on the bed, he observed as I sank into the soft sheets. He removed his shirt and joined me, straddling my hips without a word. His eyes held mine as he pushed up my skirt. "This stays," he stated firmly, maintaining direct eye contact.
He then moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Slowly, he pulled down the lace material, causing me to close my eyes in response to the sensation.
"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked breathlessly, feeling his warm breath against my thighs.
His hands glided up and down my thighs, eliciting a soft moan from me as I savored the sensation of his skin against mine. It had only been a week, but I missed this closeness immensely.
My eyes flew open as his hands gently spread my legs, his face drawing closer between my thighs.“ You’re so wet for me.” he chuckled cockily “ i this a new kink we just discovered “
“you’re so full of Yourself .” I didn’t help the smile that comes
“and you’re about to be full of me, so what does that make us?” He Murmuring as His hands wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer to his mouth.
“ Merlin's Beard! “I moaned so loudly
never breaking eye contact as his tongue lapped at my wetness. I moaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming me as Matt's tongue explored my wetness. Each flick of his tongue and gentle suck sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me tremble beneath him. My heart raced, the sound echoing in my ears as I expressed how much I had missed him.
"God, Matt, I missed you so much," I moaned, my mouth agape and my toes curling into the sheets. My hands instinctively tangled in his hair, urging him on with each movement. I cried out his name as the intensity built, feeling like I was on the brink of ecstasy.
But then, it stopped.
Confused and desperate, I lifted my head from the pillow, tears in my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. "Why... why did you stop?" I cried out, my voice a mixture of frustration and need.
Matt flashed me an amused smile, teasing me further with a kiss to my aching clit. My breathing quickened again as he kissed along my inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where I wanted him most.
"Matt," I whimpered, regretting the frustration I must have caused him. His kisses trailed back up my body until he was face to face with me, watching me quiver beneath him.
"Please," I begged softly, feeling the desperation creeping into my voice.
“ what is it my sweet girl? “ He brushed my hair aside and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. "You've been teasing me all week," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. "Wearing those short skirts, laughing with my friends, giving me the silent treatment."
He kissed me again, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "I've wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there , to fuck you senseless that my name will be the only thing you remember " he confessed, his voice husky with desire.
His lips trailed down to my earlobe, where he bit it softly, eliciting another moan from me. His mouth continued its journey, claiming every inch of my body with his tongue and teeth, until he reached my chest.
I arched back, silently pleading for his attention on my breasts. With a teasing hook of his finger, he slid down the neckline of my top, removing the lace of my bra in the process. His mouth captured one nipple, sucking slowly while his free hand caressed the other.
His actions sent shivers down my spine as he licked, sucked, and bit, creating a delicious rhythm that had me gasping for more.
"I'm sorry," I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes. "I missed you so much, and seeing you laughing with those girls hurt."
"I know, my sweet girl, I know," he whispered, his head buried between my legs once more. "Let me make it up to you."
With renewed fervor, he sucked harshly on my clit, his fingers pumping in and out of me rhythmically. The combination of sensations overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help but moan in pleasure.
As my body reached its peak, I gripped his hands tightly, feeling the fluttering release of my orgasm. I moaned his name loudly, I moaned his name probably too loudly for ghosts in the castle liking, pulled him up for a passionate kiss, savoring the taste of myself on his lips.
“Turn around,” he says,
I obeyed his command to turn around, and he slowly unpinned my hair, letting it cascade down my back in loose waves. He pushed it over one shoulder with deliberate care, his fingers trailing down my spine, igniting goosebumps along my skin , his fingers trailing down my spine, brushing the skin on my back.
His lips found their way to my neck, planting soft kisses that trailed down to my shoulder. Then, I felt his fingertips running along my skin again, sending a shiver of anticipation through me. His touch entered my hot, dripping core, and I couldn't help but let out a loud moan, begging for more.
"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice filled with desire.
"Yeah," I managed to say between moans.
“Is this why you were shouting nonsense at me? Because all you really wanted was me to fuck you senseless? Huh?” His words were like fire, and as he added another finger, I couldn't help but scream in pleasure.
continued to pump his fingers into me, increasing the intensity with each stroke. his finger got faster and faster His thumb pressed onto my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body, gripping the bedding hard as the third finger carefully joins the others hitting my g-spot continuously , trying to close my legs, his free hand keep them parted I felt my orgasm building stronger than ever before, my body unable to contain the pleasure.
He turned me around, kissing my cheek softly before returning to my open mouth, sucking my bottom lip between his own. "That was so hot," he grunted, concern lacing his tone. "Are you alright baby ?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, my chest heaving with each breath. Despite the intensity of the moment, my predominant feeling was one of satisfaction and desire.I hummed
“ need words my love “
"Yes Matt I’m alright " I managed to say, pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss.
His hips pressed against mine as we kissed, his covered arousal rubbing against my heat, sending a surge of desire through me. I trailed my hands down his muscular back until I reached the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Baby, stop," he murmured, concern lacing his tone. "Are you sure you want to keep going? I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed."
"I've never been more sure about anything," I whispered, kissing his cheek. "I missed you, I want you."
He moaned as I touched his erect member through the fabric, his breath hitching slightly. "You need to stop, love," he managed to say, his voice strained with desire.
"Sorry," I replied, pulling my hands away quickly. He leaned down to kiss my neck softly, causing me to close my eyes and wrap my arms around him.
"You never have to apologize," he whispered against my earlobe before whispering, "I’m going to make love to you," and pressing his lips to mine in tender kisses. then onc again pressing his lips to mine in sweet, sweet kisses.
one of my favourite thing about mattheo is how gentle he can be. He can be so passionate when he wants to and right now i can feel the love behind his kisses. 
Feeling his cock tapping against my clit a few times, I couldn't help but let out a moan as he guided himself into me. Taking hold of my leg again, he used them both as leverage to push himself fully inside me. I moaned into his ear, my breath hitching in anticipation.
"Fuck," I whispered, watching him mutter under his breath as he slid in and out of me slowly. The sensation was incredible; I could feel every inch of him dragging over my most sensitive parts.
"Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby," he whispered, and I opened my teary eyes slowly, doing as he said. He smiled, his gaze filled with desire. "That's it, good girl ."
Still buried deep inside me, his movements began to pick up speed. My breath caught in my throat as pleasure surged through me.
"Oh," I gasped, my head dropping back as my mouth fell open in pleasure.
"You feel so fucking good," he grunted with each thrust. "So fucking mine."
I hummed in response, words escaping me as Mattheo continued to drive me wild. With each thrust, my moans grew louder, reaching a crescendo of pleasure.
"Mattheo," I moaned, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.
"That's it, baby," he replied, his lips devouring mine softly. "So beautiful, moaning my name like that."
With a gentle touch, he pushed my hair out of my face before placing his hands on my cheeks. His eyes roamed my face while he continued to thrust into me at a slow, deliberate pace. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
As he started to thrust harder, I grabbed a fistful of the sheets, feeling the intensity building within me. His hips bucked against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. The faster pace and increased pressure caused my eyes to roll back in my head. I was on the edge of my high, having come so close moments earlier.
"Mattheo, I can't wait any longer," I screamed out, wrapping my legs around his torso tightly and intertwining our hands.
"Not yet," he grunted, turning his head to meet my gaze. He continued to move in and out of me, keeping eye contact as he held himself up by his forearms. I was so sensitive that the delay in my orgasm began to ache, and I felt the need to let go.
"Please, let me cum, baby," I pleaded, sounded desperate, begging him not to pull away at the last minute again. "I can't..."
And just as I was about to reach my breaking point, he freed one of his hands and snuck it between us, his fingers expertly rubbing at my clit and pushing me over the edge.
"I need you to do something for me, pretty girl. Want to try something?" he asked, and I nodded, willing to do anything he asked in that moment.
He kept everything slow, almost torturous, building up the tightening pressure inside of me with each pass before thrusting so hard the next time that I felt like I was going to pass out.
"Don't be nervous," he murmured, kissing my forehead. "Just relax and let go. I'll keep going until you tell me to stop." His soft tone sent flutters through my heart, and I nodded in response.
My breath hitched as his hand returned to my clit, igniting a fire in my belly. His hard thrusts hit my g-spot, and I screamed out, clinging onto his hand as if my life depended on it.
"Shit," I hissed, feeling him deep inside me, the pleasure building into a heavy weight in my gut. A tingling sensation hummed through my limbs.
"Let go, baby," he ordered, and I did just that as waves of pleasure crashed over me. It was an intense release unlike anything I'd ever felt before, leaving me shakily tilting my head up, tears in my eyes as I watched clear fluid gushing out of me each time Mattheo pulled back.
When he noticed me watching, he withdrew entirely, bringing his soaked fingers to my clit and rubbing fast circles that made me cry out loudly as my muscles spasmed again. Without his presence inside me, an unbroken stream of fluid rushed out, spraying over the bed sheets.
"Oh my god," I whimpered, needing a moment to focus on the overwhelming sensations. Mattheo made a noise of appreciation, reentering me, the wet sounds now more intense as he pushed in again.
"That's my good girl, you just squirted for me, baby. See how good you are," he praised, his words adding to the intensity of the moment.rl you just squirt for me baby see how good you are ”
Pounding into my g-spot hard enough to make my legs shake, he elicited another wave of pleasure that rolled through me. Instinctively, my body responded to Mattheo's instructions, bursts of arousal shooting out of me as I moaned softly with each pump of his hand.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I gasped in sync with his movements.
"Holy shit," Mattheo rasped as he drew his fingers out again, groaning when he returned to my clit and easily worked even more wetness out of me. "You just keep fucking cuming, baby."
I could barely process what he was saying. "Please, cum inside me, Matt," I wanted to mention that I finally got on pills this week but couldn't find the energy to.
"Yeah?" He breathed, "Want me to cum inside this pretty pussy?" Thrusting hard, his fingers still circling my clit, I moaned out his name as I squirted again and again. My pussy started to quiver as he continued to fuck me through it, crying out loudly when I felt him coming inside me as well.
Wetness splashed out of me in endless spurts, soaking my cunt, his hand, and the bed. It felt like I was coming for hours, amazed at what my body was capable of.
"You okay, my love?" He asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at me. My eyes were closed, and I gave no indication that I was listening to him, feeling like I had passed out for a second.
"Hey angel, open your eyes to me, please," Mattheo implored, kissing my cheeks and rubbing his thumb soothingly.
"Yeah, I just need a moment," I managed to whisper, feeling drained. "I think you ruined me, Matt," I added with a weak smile.
He chuckled softly, giving me kisses all over my face. "Yeah?" he teased.
"In a good way though," I reassured him.
With a small grunt, Mattheo pushed himself off of me and sat up from the bed. I reached out for him, not wanting him to leave my side yet. He chuckled at my antics, lightly grasping my hand and stroking my fingers before letting it go and stepping away.
"Just going to grab a few things to clean you up, love. I promise I’ll be right back," he assured me.
Nodding, I closed my eyes again, too exhausted to do anything else.
"I brought you some water, darling. You should drink a little," he said as he sat back down on the bed next to me, helping me sit up a bit. I complied lazily, sipping from the glass he held against my lips.
"Now, spread your legs a little, sweetheart. I need to clean you up. Not too sore?" He asked as he gently cleaned me up with a washcloth, my body still sensitive .
As he cleaned me up and tidied the sheets, I felt sleep starting to take over me, comforted by his warmth and embrace. He kissed my face a few times and chuckled softly before I finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and loved.
"I don’t think I would ever be able to walk again," I joked softly .
"I would carry you then," he replied affectionately.
"Since it’s all your fault, so yes," I teased, feeling a mix of emotions.
"I’m so sorry," he apologized sincerely
"Matt—"
"No, listen. I’m really sorry for everything. It was all my fault from the start. I shouldn’t have promised you that and then go and break it the next day," he admitted regretfully.
“ I’m so sorry too “ I hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling the blanket over us.
"Can we sleep here tonight?" I asked, wanting to be close to him.
"We can do anything you want, baby. I will do whatever you want," he promised, kissing my forehead.
"I love you so, so much," I whispered, feeling sleepiness creeping in.
"I love you so much too, my love," he replied, kissing my forehead back.
"Baby?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah?" I replied, feeling sleepy.
"Did you ever think about kids?" he asked, surprising me.
I laughed softly. "What?"he said
"I’m on pills, baby. I finally managed to get them," I explained, resting my head on his chest as I got ready to sleep.
"Baby?" he said again, and I hummed in response.
"Just for your information, I’m going to hit that Zacharias boy so hard tomorrow he can join Michael in the hospital, and Michael doesn’t have to feel lonely anymore. I’m telling you now,"
"I was thinking about hexing him into a toad, but we can decide tomorrow," laughing while giving him one last kiss I said .
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doomdoomofdoom · 7 months ago
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Hi yes I have a lot of thoughts on this take and I would like to share them. It's gonna be a lengthy post and none of it is meant as a personal attack or critique. People have different tastes. The OP was asking for the impact Nimona had on different queer people. This is one of those impacts. It's not my (or anyone elses) place to police that.
That being said, I have unfortunately spent the better part of a year absorbing every tidbit of this movie and I am now making this everyone elses problem
Starting with the petty stuff I will not talk about, because it's subjective: Both the voice acting by Chloë Grace Moretz and the Writing may have won an Annie Award respectively, but if what they do is not your jam, it's not your jam. Same with the art style. No point in fighting over taste. I could make some petty extrapolation that refusing to remember or look up the name of a central character or voice actor shows a refusal to engage with the material, but even if I personally find it off-putting, it's not a fair point of critique. For all I know, this could be a bit.
Cool? Cool. Let's talk substance:
The Background:
This is the only category where I can straight up refute points, because this is factual stuff. I don't think this is obligatory for anyone to know - I certainly didn't when I watched the movie - but I do think it puts some things into perspective.
'Nimona' the movie is based on a comic by ND Stevenson from a good while ago. Stevenson has since come out as transmasculine and remarked that the comic contained many of his unaddressed feelings about his gender. The story and artstyle strongly deviate from the original comic. Adaptation-wise, from what I know, it's basically an entirely new story within the original framework with substantial changes to the characters as well. I believe I read somewhere that the goal was to create a story that would still reinforce the core messages and themes of the original, but adapted to today and influenced by ND Stevenson's own identity developing. The movie did go through production hell. Big time. Originally developed by Blue Sky Studios (subsidiary of Fox), the movie ran into issues when Disney bought and dissolved the studio. Previous to its cancellation, the movie already faced scrutiny for including a gay couple, and had to fight with Disney in particular for any inclusion of intimacy between Ballister and Ambrosius. By the time it was cancelled, the movie was mostly finished.
Quick Tangent on that: A lot of people claim Disney did not want this movie to get made. This isn't true. Disney held the rights to the Nimona movie. They could have simply kept them forever, preventing the movie from ever seeing the light of day. Instead, they agreed to sell the rights to Annapurna Pictures, who finished and released the movie.
Annapurna as a production company (supposedly) focuses on giving directors the opportunity and freedom to create the movie they want, without conforming to Hollywood Standards. As such, they encouraged the production to double down on the parts that were previously stifled or discouraged under Disney and Fox. This is why the movie gets to be this queer.
Given the amount of fight that the producers, writers, directors, and crew altogether had to put in to get to this point of explicit depiction of a gay couple and queer themes overall, I find the accusation of Rainbow Capitalism incredibly misplaced.
The Content:
Obviously interpretation can differ between people, but there's a few things in this post that, in my opinion, missed the mark.
First and foremost, reading this movie as copaganda is baffling to me. This movie is dedicated to calling out the propaganda behind law enforcement, both internally and externally. In 'Nimona's world, being a cop (called "knight") is a divine birthright. Before the events of the movie, all cops are descendants of a few select bloodlines. They are the chosen ones, tasked with protecting the kingdom and its people. This gets reinforced over and over into both citizens and the cops themselves. They are the only ones capable of protecting everyone from the very black and white threat of "monsters". (Interestingly, the movie leaves it open whether there have been any monsters in recent years.) They're also frequently used in ad campaigns. And then Ballister, the first and only cop chosen by merit rather than heritage, whose darker skin tone is not a coincidence, gets framed for treason. He meets a monster. He discovers that the person in charge of law enforcement (the "Director") is behind the Queen's Assassination. Ballister's worldview should shatter. But he still believes in the law enforcement institution (it's literally called The Institute, it's not subtle) and thinks that he can set this right by removing the Director from power. He doesn't even want to make his discovery public. And he gets called out on this. "You think this ends with the director? You should be questioning everything right now!" is what Nimona tells him, I believe. During the movie, Ballister is also repeatedly subjected to classism (which is a stand-in for racism) from his cop colleagues, and literal police brutality once he is a wanted criminal. The Institute is shown to be fundamentally prejudiced, violent, and incompetent. It's the literal antagonistic force of the movie. I'm aware that there is a copaganda subgenre, in which our hero cop must evade arrest by the police department because he's being framed. But those work on entirely different levels. These are not the same thing.
I could write another paragraph about whether Goldenloin counts as "estranged" but I think that's more of a semantics argument than anything. He is a supermodel tho
It's also not directly confirmed whether Ballister is reinstated as a cop in the epilogue, but I personally lean towards 'yes' based on his shirt. The institute still exists. The Status Quo hasn't been miraculously flipped overnight. The wall is now open, and the cannons have been removed, but the wall itself still stands. Cops still patrol the streets, and even if they play ball with the kids, they're still cops. And personally, I think that's a good thing to put in your movie. Change, even if brought by a giant trans phoenix exploding a fascist, is never instantaneous. We don't really have enough information on how the kingdom develops from here to endorse or condemn its path. It's something I would love to see explored if there's ever a continuation of the story. But we can tell that society has taken a step in the right direction. And I think that's more realistic than a sudden utopia.
I really don't know how the movie could've been any more clear on its core message, on the pain and anger caused by ostracization, the importance of recognizing and accepting others as they are, and the indictment of an oppressive system built on hatred and exclusion. Without sacrificing its immersion or turning preachy, at least.
I am currently writing a paper about the way that the Nimona Movie affected queer people. I was hoping that you could comment or reblog with your experience watching Nimona. Thanks so much!
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lactoseintolerentswag · 1 year ago
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Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!
Now that Leo and Raph are done, it's Donnie's turn for character analysis as a writing reference. So without further ado,
Donnie Character Notes
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Language Habits:
Straight up talks like a redditor who hasn't touched enough grass (affectionate)
Oscillates between very scientific paper polished, sometimes adding a dazzle of shakespearean for dramatics, or abbreviations/a shorter version of a word with a more fun connotation (i.e. "brekkie" instead of breakfast)
Uses food as surprised exclamations or curses, "oh my peaches and cream", "banana pancakes!"
Emphasizes each syllable of a long word when he's excited or trying to make a point. Conquered becomes con-qu-ered
Either exaggerates his speech or speaks in deadpan
The science terms he uses as battle cries aren't chosen at random, but rather are related to the action/subject at hand, i.e. yelling "fibonacci" when throwing his spinning tech-bo
Will overly describe an item or a situation, and often gets caught up in these observations before processing what just happened
Will repeatedly yell "help!" when he's distressed and/or outnumbered
Refers to Mikey as "Michael"
Refers to his brothers as "brethren" or "gentlemen"
Refers to splinter as either "father", "papa", or "dad" depending on the weight of the situation
Refers to his tech as his "babies"
Answers the phone with, "You're conversing with Donatello"
Uses "gesundheit" instead of bless you
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Personality:
The fixer, he supplies the family with tech and resources. He always has a trinket made for the situation at hand and/or offers his knowledge/data collected. He's always prepared to help. Even with outside resources, he likes to feel useful in solving their problems (i.e., building Todd that dog park)
The theater kid, in a similar vein to leo, Donnie has his own style of dramatics. He often uses shakespeare-like language, is mentioned to regularly recite the jupiter jim musical soundtrack, and has a music mode for his battle shell. He belongs on a stage, or at least thinks he does
Not good at lying, despite the glamour he can put on in the spotlight. This may be due to the side of himself that over explains his thoughts
An over-thinker, who really tends to over-complicate things. His first theory or idea will always be the most extreme buck-wild concept. After some filtering, he still word vomits
A dreamer/big idea guy. He does have big ideas and goals. A lot of these he's able to put into place, although some go a little haywire (see Albearto). He doesn't do things in halves, and puts everything into a project
Meticulous, someone who's very detail oriented. As mentioned before he tends to over-complicates things. This may be impacted by his love for data and collecting information (he does record Everything for a reason)
Always on the edge of violence, which is surprising. Donnie's not known as being the angry archetype of tmnt, but he can get a little violent in his fighting style and does often cite his desire to use lethal force
Low empathy, which is mainly due to his issues processing and recognizing emotions. He's been pegged as unemotional, but in canon he's rather emotional and expressionate, just lacking the skills to process such emotion (he's just like me fr)
Praise motivated, as seen with his interactions with Splinter. Also desires the praise of his brothers, who he doesn't feel understand him with all the teasing that's sent towards his direction. This also pushes him to seek validation and acceptance in other groups (i.e. the purple dragons), to feel a sense of security or belonging
Ignores his own mistakes, and will often pretend like they didn't exist or ever happen. This most likely has to do with his desire for praise, so he feels bad when he fails. If he never made a mistake, he never has to feel bad
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Miscellaneous:
Fourth to unlock mystic powers
Uses "Bootyyyshaker9000" as most of his usernames and passwords, with his alt. username being "Alpha-Bootyyyshaker9000"
Has a fear of bees, spiders, and of course beach balls
Breaks the fourth wall the most
Loves the smell of pineapple, hates the texture
Has a hobby of rooting around in the junkyard and dumpster diving
Uses cheat codes in video games
Mikey's next of course :)
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florihye · 7 months ago
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( ♡ )⠀𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒏 as . . . 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 .ᐟ ❝ boy you're such a dream to me ❞ ꒷꒦ ot7 𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝜗𝜚 ⟢ headcanons & established relationship fluff ৲ 𝖒𝖞 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
𐙚 . . via's entry ❫ ilysm plz enjoy my first thingy, 2239wc | fem reader .
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✦ . . 이희승 !
bf!heeseung who does aegyo for you and only you! he’d make sure no one else was in close proximity and then go “heedeungie!!” before cringing, and shutting his eyes closed, only reopening them to see your pretty smile.
bf!heeseung who always knows what you want, even if u’ve just glanced at a cute plushie at the store for one second best bet he’ll buy you every plushie from that brand, becoz ur his prince(ss) ofc
bf!heeseung who’d write little romantic ballads for you and call you randomly throughout the day (even during sleep hours!) so that you can hear his melodic voice sing the most shakespearean lyrics about his love for u 🥰
bf!heeseung who is like a bf and a therapist all in one! literally send as many voice messages ranting abt ur life as u can to him becoz he will listen to all of them and then respond with a voice message 10x longer
bf!heeseung who gets a bit impatient… likes listening to u talk but did u know that if u go longer than 42.32 seconds without kissing him he will eventually just stare at your lips and mumble random words while u rant every now and then; it gets you all hot and flustered when you realize where his attention actually is. soon enough, you just go “just kiss me if you want to.” and that’s enough for him to look back up at you, grin and softly press his lips against yours (contrary to popular opinion his kisses would be very soft! 🤓☝️) while grabbing both your shoulders with his hands
bf!heeseung who loves ur shoulders for some reason?? i just have this gut feeling that his favorite part about you is your shoulders?? like idk why, my heeseung senses r just tingling. anyways yes, he’d rest his head on your shoulders, kiss ur shoulders, put his arms over your shoulders and around your neck and whatnot!
✦ . . 박종성 !
bf!jay who’d spent astronomical amounts of money (willingly :)) in just a week!! he refuses to buy you cheap counterparts, expensive is what his pretty lover deserves !
bf!jay WHO WOULD COOK THE MOST GOURMET MEALS FOR YOU! if it is a cultural dish, he will take time out of his day to cook in the kitchen with you until he learns how to make said cultural dish, then he will make it for u 4ever and ever!!! jay is certainly a caring partner
bf!jay who gives u sm partner privilege it’s insane. like he’d do anything for you without a second doubt. ask him to help you look for ur phone? no need, he’s already bought you 10 different new ones!
bf!jay who is such a romantic partner?? like if ur at work late, he will set up a whole candlelit dinner (hand made cuisine) with “moonlight” by kali uchis playing in the background. (jay looks like that song :3)
bf!jay likes tracing his fingers over your delicately placed features like you were sculpted by Greek Gods, and he’s nothing but a mere commoner admiring your beauty.
bf!jay gets matching things for you two ☹️ matching pandora rings, matching shoes/heels, what is there that he wouldn’t wear to twin with you! hell, he’d even do that cute thing where he matched the color of his tie to your dress!
bf!jay who does likes to go out with you, but he also likes to stay in! no matter what, he wants to be with you.
bf!jay who thinks that reading a romcom cuddled up with you under rain is a perfect way to spend saturday afternoon! (hint: he doesn’t usually like to read romcoms, he just loves spending time with you too much to say no 💖)
to conclude, jay just loves to do things for you. he always tries to impress you/make himself the perfect boyfriend for you by planning dates, getting u gifts, and doing whatever you need at all times (i feel like he believes he’ll never be good enough for u 😕)
✦ . . 심재윤 !
bf!jake who gets so shy around u?? like stop u could stare at him and when he finally notices he’ll giggle like a little girl about it. he has the biggest crush on you ever it’s unbelievable
“okay fine, i love you more than my dog. i love you more than anyone, actually. is that weird?”
bf!jake who is a playful and lighthearted person, he truly does not have the capability to get mad at you 💞
but ofc he’s human, so when you two (somehow) get into arguments, he’ll always be the one to show up at your door at like 3am with a cute pout on his face because he misses you (it’s been 6 hours since you guys have last talked??) anyways how could you say no to his puppy face! obviously, u let him in and you two cuddle the night away
bf!jake who calls you layla’s mom and gets like cuteness aggression when he sees you and layla together
bf!jake who would say “this is for you” before shooting a hoop (and missing) for shits n giggles
bf!jake who clings onto you like his life depends on it……. this guy is so clingy???? like stop u won’t be able to use your non dominant hand at all because jake is just grabbing onto it for dear life
bf!jake who would LOVEE if his girlfriend had soft and plush cheeks. he’d squish ur face and giggle continuously at how cute you looked, pouty-faced and all.
bf!jake who likes simple yet planned out dates. picnics, arcade dates, carnival dates, and more are all apart of his comfort zone! but if you wanted to try anything new, he’d totally be up for it
bf!jake who loves u sososo unconditionally and always sticks by your side!! he’s like the type to agree with you in public and softly correct you in private.
bf!jake who smothers you with affection hourly reminds you everyday that he loves ur hair, ur face, ur body, ur legs, ur hands, and most importantly, YOU!!!
✦ . . 박성훈 !
bf!sunghoon who would take you on ice skating dates and then take photos of you slipping on the ice (which don’t even come out that good because he’s busy laughing 🙄 )
bf!sunghoon who teases you then smirks when you get flustered like you teasing him doesn’t result in him having a mental breakdown of some sorts??? like boy plz
bf!sunghoon WHO IS SO SASSY OVER TEXT?? he’s literally your princess. “🙄🫸” is his go to emoji combo
bf!sunghoon who posts mirror selfies of the two of you and tries to be mysterious in the captions: “me n my girl 🖤”
bf!sunghoon who learns random english phrases (or ur main language) to impress you with
bf!sunghoon who wants to match styles with his s/o. would love to be the classy, romantic, sort of private couple.
bf!sunghoon who isn’t that into pda but if someone else starts flirting with you or even looks at you he’ll start being all touchy until the other person goes away. he’s super protective of u but doesn’t really show it that often
bf!sunghoon who pretends to be annoyed when you steal his hoodies knowing damn well he likes when you take his hoodies because they always smell like you after you give them back!!!!!
bf!sunghoon who loves to go on late night walks with you. everytime he sees a wildflower, he’ll pluck it for you and tuck it in your hair
bf!sunghoon who definitely can not fall asleep unless he gets a goodnight kiss from you 💖
✦ . . 김선우 !
as your boyfriend, sunoo would love your hair sm.
especially if you had long hair he’d buy you shampoos, conditioners, everything! he’d also love to blow dry your hair for you and style it and everything
bf!sunoo would 100% let you sit on his lap and practice your makeup on him!!
bf!sunoo who would love to bake with you!!!! like he would make cakes and then use icing to spell out you two’s intials on the top
bf!sunoo who’s favorite form of affection is holding hands 💞 he’d do the thumb thing and adores when you grabs his hand randomly throughout the day, it gives him butterflies!
bf!sunoo who gets you small bouquets of tulips everytime he sees you!
bf!sunoo who loves to lay on your chest while cuddling and listen to your heartbeat (not in a creepy way, it’s just super comforting for him)
bf!sunoo who places gentle kisses all over your face before you fall asleep. he always makes sure to fall asleep after you so you’re comfortable
bf!sunoo who goes over your drama with you and hates whoever you hate. he’s your best friend and your boyfriend all at once!
bf!sunoo who is insanely creative when it comes to date ideas. he will make sure that he is the one planning dates most/all of the time!! his favorites are picnics, art dates, café dates and museum dates!!
bf!sunoo who loves to have a runway show in your bedroom after every one of your shopping trips!! he would coordinate the outfits and then cheer you on as you strut down the hallway
sunoo would tease you (not that much tho) about your height (would love a short gf!!) and then giggle about it and you just have to accept it cuz it makes him happy and his smile is literally the prettiest thing ever
bf!sunoo who genuinely does not know how to hate you, he’d give the softest love ever ☹️
✦ . . 양정원 !
bf!jungwon who loves to tickle you. ik it sounds weird but just hear me out 🥰 he’d definitely just tickle the side of your waist randomly while you guys are cuddling just to hear your laugh and annoy you
bf!jungwon who prefers to be called “won” or other nicknames/petnames by you rather than his real name. would pout if you ever called him “jungwon” and go “hey!”
bf!jungwon who keeps a collection of cute photos of you on his phone to go through when he misses u ☹️ it’s genuinely so wholesome.
bf!jungwon also would keep a folder of just a bunch of 0.5 photos of you doing random things and make them your pfp on all messaging apps.
bf!jungwon who does silly little tiktok couple trends with you whenever you ask him to
bf!jungwon would ask you to do a spin everyday to see your outfit and then gush about how good you look!!
bf!jungwon, who often stays up late at night with you while the two of you talk about the future family you will have. | a conversation between the two of you would go, “we’ll have two kids! or three? or four?” “no, we’ll have cats instead. two cats, and one of them is you!”
bf!jungwon who ruffles your hair teasingly only to fix it again, pulling at each strand and placing it in its place gently
bf!jungwon who texts you random romantic song lyrics throughout the day, which never fail to fluster you and make you giggle
bf!jungwon who is a sucker for cheek kisses. before you leave him, he’d be like “oh, you’re forgetting something :(“ and you’d always play along, “what?” you’d say with a giggle as he’d point to his cheek, the place where you’d leave a small but loving peck!
✦ . . 西村力 !
bf!riki who gets butterflies whenever you call him his real name, riki, over his stage name. it makes him feel closer to you 💞
bf!riki who would make playlists for the two of you, naming them with you guys’ initials.
bf!riki who’d always had this fantasy of teaching his future girlfriend to dance, and that’s exactly what he does with you. he’d slowly wrap his arms around your own and guide them to the music.
bf!riki just would not let you get out of bed?? like every morning it’s a struggle for you 💔 “ni-ki let me go i’ll be late!” “no, 5 more minutes 😠” and how could u say no
bf!riki who always giggles in between kisses, causing you to pull away and lean your forehead on his while the two of you smile at one another fondly
bf!riki who LOVES to see u in his hoodies!! in fact, he’d even leave his hoodies at ur house just to see you wear it, and then tease you for it. “ew, give me back my hoodie, stinky.” he’d say, but in his head he’s kicking his feet at how ur body is engulfed by the cloth which is 10x too long for you.
bf!riki who pulls you out of bed late at night for impromptu 3AM walks to the convenience store.
bf!riki would teach you japanese and absolutely die everytime you try to say something in japanese for him
bf!riki who would tease you so much, especially if you were shorter than him, he’d misplace your things, putting them on high shelves and whatnot so you have no choice but to ask him to grab it for you
bf!riki who is super shy in front of other people, but when it’s just you two he gets super physical and touchy and affectionate!
bf!riki who mumbles sweet nothings into the crook of your neck while you two are cuddling after he’s sure you’ve fell asleep 💤 💖
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tysm for reading!
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thatfandomslut · 8 months ago
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Take Me, I'm Yours
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Regina George x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+. Fingering (Reader receiving), oral (Regina receiving), use of strap (Reader receiving), nipple play (Regina receiving) power bottom Regina George, passive top Reader, car sex, rough sex.
Request:
Pleasssseemore of Regina George/rene smut
Synopsis:
College!AU where the Reader is in Theatre and she plays Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Also, Reader is an English major who very playfully and casually quotes dirty things in Shakespeare play and sonnets. Which Regina secretly loves.
Mean Girls requests are open.
Even though Regina was (Y/n)'s girlfriend, Cady and Janis found it surprising when she found herself a seat beside them to watch the school production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' (Y/n) was going to play the lead, Juliet, while her friend, Marco, was to be Romeo. If this was high school, Regina would have refused to show her face at a function such as this, but this was college. Plus, Regina was excited to see (Y/n) perform. She knew just how much (Y/n) loved the work of Shakespeare. She loved it to the point that she would bring it into any conversation they were having if possible.
As the theatre grew dark the curtains lifted revealing a narrator, speaking about fair Verona. Regina leaned close to Cady, who was sitting beside her. "When does Juliet come in?" She questioned softly, trying to keep her voice a whisper. She really wished she could fast-forward all of the parts that (Y/n) wasn't in. She began to wonder if that was rude of her, but she stayed in place, waiting for an answer. After all, she came for one reason, and one reason only, to see the star of this show: her girlfriend.
Cady glanced over at Janis before leaning towards Regina in order to respond. "She's going to enter with her nurse. It'll be a little while. Just sit back and enjoy." Cady told her, gaining a slight side-eye. Still, Regina listened, leaning back in her seat as she tried to understand what they were saying on stage. They were using the old English version. There were a few words and phrases she was catching onto due to (Y/n), and her infinity of saying little Shakespearean phrases whenever she was excited or whenever she wanted to have sex (which was a bit off-putting at first, but Regina found it cute).
"Nurse, where is my daughter? Call her forth to me." Regina sat up slightly, hoping that this would be the scene that was finally revealed (Y/n). She was able to identify the fact that the woman speaking was a Capulet due to her red dress. (Y/n) had explained one night that Capulets wore red while Montagues wore blue. This was so the audience could tell who was who on stage. Right now, Regina just felt incredibly intelligent for knowing this fact and it made her smirk to herself slightly as she awaited (Y/n) to eventually show up.
Just as Cady said, it was the nurse who appeared first, looking frantic. "Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come.—What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid. Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!" She called out, and Regina felt herself grow in excitement. Anytime she attended any of (Y/n)'s performances, she felt like she could barely sit in her seat when she had the feeling (Y/n) was about to appear on stage. She just loved seeing (Y/n) shine, and it was clear that the stage was where (Y/n) belonged. Regina would move to New York so (Y/n) could star on Broadway if (Y/n) asked.
Regina burst into a proud grin as (Y/n) entered the stage, her hair curled as she looked at her nurse. "How now, who calls?" It was her opening line, and now that play that was boring Regina had her hooked. One could argue that it was because (Y/n) was Regina's girlfriend that Regina had a newfound interest in the play, and Regina could not argue against that. She wouldn't dare to. Not when (Y/n) looked so beautiful on the stage. Cady and Janis looked over at Regina, who was now leaning forward, clearly interested. The action made Janis shake her head with a grin as she found Cady's hand and took hold of it.
After the play, Regina left briefly to retrieve the bouquet of roses she had bought from her car. As (Y/n) departed from the back, now wearing leggings and a sweatshirt with their college's name embroidered on the front, she ran into Regina's arms. "Hey, baby," Regina greeted as her arms wrapped around (Y/n). She was careful to not crush the flowers as she pulled away to kiss (Y/n). This action was quickly reciprocated. "You did so good up there. I got these roses for you." Regina said, passing the bouquet over to (Y/n) who lit up over the fact Regina brought her flowers.
"I'm glad you thought so. I was so nervous you wouldn't enjoy the performance. Normally, the school does more of the modern plays, but I suggested a classic. I wanted Hamlet, but this one is just as exciting. And! Thank you for the flowers." (Y/n) felt her cheeks turn red as she rambled on, Regina leading her to the car to drive them back to their apartment. "I'm sorry for rambling, I'm just really excited you enjoyed it."
Regina opened the door for her, kissing her cheek softly. "Don't apologize for rambling, my love. It's cute. And, how could I not enjoy it when you did so fucking fantastic tonight. You're born for the stage." Regina complimented as (Y/n) settled in her seat. She closed the door before heading to the driver's seat. Despite being the obvious bottom, little spoon between the two, she is not the passenger princess. She just enjoyed driving and having a sense of control over what she was doing. Even as a bottom, she commanded (Y/n) what she wanted and how she wanted everything done.
"Can I share something about another Shakespeare play, or are you all Shakespeared out?" She questioned curiously, looking over at Regina, who shook her head in a way to allow (Y/n) to continue. In response, (Y/n) straightened herself up as she cleared her throat. The action caused Regina to eye her suspiciously knowing some kind of dirty quote might come out of her sweet and almost innocent (if it wasn't for the Shakespeare filth quotes) girlfriend. "In Hamlet, when Ophelia says to him, 'You are keen, my lord, you are keen.' She meant that he was, well, horny. In response, he says, 'It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.' Regina, I am keen."
A giant smirk twisted the edge of Regina's lips on her usual 'serious driving' face. Looking over for a brief moment, she had to bite down on the ever-growing upturning of her lips. "After seeing you on stage, I am 'keen,' too." She responded, causing (Y/n) to look over with a grin. "Isn't this the part where you say your Hamlet quote to me?" Regina teased as parked in her parking spot, her teeth still tugging at her bottom lip, wishing that it was (Y/n)'s bottom lip they were tugging on instead.
(Y/n) leaned back into her spot, unbuckling so she could turn to Regina more comfortably. "You're right, how rude of me not to respond properly. Regina, 'it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.'" She said softly before moving the roses to the backseat carefully. Once she faced Regina, and the blonde had unbuckled, Regina's hands were slipped into (Y/n)'s leggings while (Y/n)'s hands were pushed up into Regina's shirt. They've both been here before, ravaging each other in their car as if they couldn't get caught.
Regina was quick in her actions to rub (Y/n)'s clit, wishing the girl was riding her face so she couldn't only feel how wet she was for her, but there was a chance she could taste it, too. However, the moan that had escaped (Y/n)'s lips made her forget her wish as she began to allow two fingers to slip in between the lips of (Y/n)'s pussy, teasing her momentarily. "Please, princess," (Y/n) whined pitifully, and Regina slipped her fingers in at the request. Anything for her future favorite Broadway star, right? The glass slowly began to fog as (Y/n) moaned in pleasure as she successfully unclasped Regina's bra from under her shirt, making Regina's nipples more accessible to her fingers. As (Y/n) cried out in pleasure because of Regina's fingers, Regina herself began to moan as (Y/n)'s fingers pinched and played with her hardened nipples.
It wasn't long before (Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her orgasm. "Regina, please, I'm so close." (Y/n) whimpered as her lips found Regina's the car windows around them were officially fogged. Normally, Regina would make her beg for her orgasm. But tonight was (Y/n)'s night, so anything she wanted, she was going to get. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina allowed her to cum on her fingers, the girl arching her back, her legs shaking slightly. A string of curses fell from her lips, but Regina could only focus on how pretty the girl's lips were.
Regina helped (Y/n) ride out her high before removing her fingers and sucking them clean. "Let's go inside, baby. I'll get you all cleaned up and we can watch a movie." Regina said softly as (Y/n)'s breathing became more leveled. She fixed her bra by just removing it from under her shirt, not caring if anyone saw her carry it into her house. Leaning over, she pressed a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead, grabbing the roses from the backseat.
"Or, when we get inside, I can undress you, and eat you out." (Y/n) said, her words unusually bold, her voice still scratchy from her moans. Her chest was still heaving despite her catching her breath, but presumably because she was nervous and starting to breathe quicker once more. She expected Regina to say no because they typically did it in Regina's way. Which (Y/n) usually loved. She still wanted Regina to have control, but for a moment, she wanted to be the bold one. "I need to taste you, princess."
Her words caused a shiver to spread down Regina's spine as she glanced back with a smirk. "Okay, baby, let's do it then. Take me to the bedroom, and eat me out until I can't take it anymore." Regina leaned in, pressing a hungry kiss to (Y/n)'s lips before they pulled away, practically rising to their apartment. Their clothes were scattered on the apartment floor, but the roses were put neatly on the counter. As Regina fell backward onto the bed, she looked up with a smirk. "Take me, I'm yours." She whispered as (Y/n) kissed her deeply. The kiss was messy and their teeth clashed together as their tongues fought for dominance before (Y/n) pulled away.
(Y/n) left wet, bruising kisses down Regina's body, just the way the blonde liked it as she reached Regina's pussy. It wasn't long before (Y/n)'s tongue swirled along Regina's clit as she began to suck. Regina's back arched instinctively as she moaned loudly. When (Y/n) moved to begin eating Regina out as if she was her last meal, her finger took her tongue's place on her clit. "Fuck, baby, just like that." Regina's hands cupped her breasts, needing to do something with her hands as (Y/n)'s tongue swirled in her. Regina felt her heartbeat thrumming in her chest as (Y/n) made her forget her own name for a moment.
As Regina found herself growing closer, her legs began to shake as her moans came out more frequently. Her back arched more as she subconsciously began to grind on (Y/n)'s tongue. She loved the feeling of (Y/n)'s tongue and she knew soon their tastes would mingle when they kissed. "I'm so close, baby," she cried out to (Y/n), her hips stuttering, as she tried to hold herself back, wanting (Y/n) to tell her when to cum. It was the only time Regina relented control. It was something they both liked, holding each other's orgasms captive as they completely took away their ability to think straight.
"Cum for me, princess," (Y/n) instructed. Regina did so, crying out (Y/n)'s name. They forget if they have neighbors or not, but they don't care either. Regina's hips bucked as (Y/n)'s nose briefly hit her sensitive clit as she cleaned up all of Regina. Regina rode out her high on (Y/n)'s tongue, her eyes rolling back as she swore she could see stars. As (Y/n) finished, she kissed Regina deeply. Quickly, Regina reciprocated, mingling the taste of each other and moaning at their perfect concoction.
(Y/n) went to pull away in order to run their usual aftercare bath and to get Regina water, but the blonde stopped her. "No, I'm not done with you. If it's okay with you, I bought something you've been wanting to try." Regina was still shaky but stable enough to retrieve the strap from her nightstand. (Y/n) looked at Regina in shock as she grinned slowly. "I want you to ride me," Regina said, her voice echoing in (Y/n)'s mind.
(Y/n) swallowed thickly before she licked her drying lips. "I want to ride you, too." With the consent given, Regina began putting the harness on before inviting (Y/n) to climb on. (Y/n) grew even more wet as she did so before sliding on. The contact made pushed the harness down into Regina's sensitive clit, causing her to force herself not to buck her hips. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina's strap filled her up. "Oh, fuck," she cursed loudly, biting her lip. "Tell me when I can start." Her voice was shaky as she tried to wait, finding it hard as pleasure filled her up.
"You can start, baby," Regina told her before watching in amazement as her girlfriend bounced on the strap, her boobs bouncing with her. She couldn't help but moan, too at the perfect contact it made with her. (Y/n) cried for Regina, feeling like she was on Cloud 9. She was almost ashamed to say that her orgasm was coming much too quickly for her liking. But she continued to ride.
"I'm close, Regina. I'm already so fucking close." (Y/n) felt her body shake and her back arch as she grew closer to the orgasm she desperately tried to hold back. Regina moaned at her words, trying to think straight for a response. Instead, she mustered up a 'not yet' causing (Y/n) to cry out. Regina was desperate to cum with her as the two grew close. Their moans mingled in the air as (Y/n) took all of the length in proudly. She was beginning to wonder if she could resist this orgasm as her eyes screwed closed and her head fell back. Sweat beaded on her forehead before she finally heard Regina say it.
"Cum, baby. I'm cumming with you," Regina told her as she released with (Y/n). Their lips fell together, causing them to swell. (Y/n) stayed for a long moment on the strap as she shook in pleasure, bouncing every now and again to ride out her high. The action caused them both to moan every time. As (Y/n) removed herself, her chest still heaved. Regina kissed her softly before cleaning the strap and putting it away. "You wait here, baby. I'm going to get our bath ready and get us water."
(Y/n) couldn't refuse, her legs wouldn't allow her to walk anyways. Instead, she lay there, attempting to catch her breath as the sound of running water hit her ears and Regina grabbed her a water bottle. "You were amazing," (Y/n) complimented softly, her words barely coming out, her thoughts still trying to become coherent. Regina smiled over at her as they began to drink their water. "I wasn't expecting the strap, but I will say I am very grateful for it. I also liked that it was the one we picked out together." She said, activating one of their aftercare routines: talking about their time. It was important to communicate their feelings about sex.
Regina smiled over at her with a twinkle in her eyes. "I wanted to get it for you since it was opening night and you had been working so hard. I'm so proud of you, my star. And, I liked it, too." Regina pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek. "Now, let's go get in that bath before it overflows," Regina said with a teasing smile. She helped (Y/n) to the bath where they soaked their bathtub wine in a bath full of bubbles. It was the perfect end to a perfect day for the both of them.
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queenofvelaris · 3 months ago
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Worthy
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Steve Rogers x fem!reader
Word count: 9.7k (don’t look at me)
Contains: ANGST but with a happy ending, mentions of abuse, self-deprecation, Tony’s stupid quips, fight scenes (its age of ultron duh), tooth-rotting fluff, minor character deaths
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. Everyone except for the reader and her family belongs to Marvel.
Author’s Note: hiiii so I wrote this in 2021 when I was going through a really dark time. It brought me so much peace to write it and I figured it was time I share it with the world. Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts (such as if I should post more cause I got more 🫣) anyways I hope you like it!!
***
Worthy. What a ridiculous word. A hypocritical one, too. There are those who believe with everything they’ve got— even to the point of being prideful— that they’re worthy. Others hope that they are. And the rest feel, deep down inside, that they’ll never be worthy.
“I bet it’s a trick,” Clint commented, spinning drumsticks between his fingers. He was sat next to Maria, and on his other side, Bruce and Natasha were deep in conversation. Tony and Rhodey sat on the futon. Dr. Cho was asleep.
Thor chuckled and handed a newly opened beer bottle to Steve. (Y/N) was on the carpet, her back against Steve’s strong legs. Thor shook his head. “No, no. It is much more than that.”
“Whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power,” Clint mocked in a Shakespearean voice that made (Y/N) snort. “Whatever, man!”
Thor grinned and indicated his hammer, propped up on the coffee table. “Please, be my guest.”
Tony smirked at Clint. “Go ahead!”
Clint raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He leaped to his feet.
“Oh, this is gonna be beautiful,” Rhodey remarked.
Steve leaned down and whispered in (Y/N)’s ear. “Five bucks says he gives up after five seconds.”
“You’re on,” (Y/N) shot back. “I say ten seconds… gotta give the man a little credit.” She smiled to herself as Steve tickled her shoulder. If she were on the same level as him, she’d tickle him right back.
From the very beginning of the Avengers initiative, after that whole mess in 2012, Steve has always been the one (Y/N) was closest to, Clint being a very close second. It was an instant click. They loved the same movies, traded jokes and sarcastic comments, trained together, and even fell asleep next to each other on the couch on days off. Three years later, they are as close as ever.
Clint approached Mjölnir, a swagger in his step. Tony leaned forward in his seat. “Clint, you’ve had a tough week. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”
Everyone chuckled at that and Clint ignored them, eyeing Thor. “You know I’ve seen this before, right?”
He reached for the handle and tugged, grunting as he did so. About five seconds later, he gave up, shaking his head. “I still don’t know how you do it!”
“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony jeered at Clint as (Y/N) grudgingly handed Steve five bucks.
Steve made it better with a flash of his perfect smile and a wink from his pretty blue eyes. Beaming, she rolled her eyes and focused on the petty ones in the room.
Clint held out his hand. “Stark, by all means.”
Tony shrugged and stood, earning a chorus of “Uh oh”, “Mmm-hmm”, “Oh here we go.” He practically strutted over to the hammer. “Never been one to shy away from an honest challenge.”
“Yeah, but how often do you win ‘em?” (Y/N) muttered and Steve laughed so hard he choked on his beer. Rhodey and a couple others went “ooo!”
Tony shot her a playful glare and looped his wrist through the loop on the top of the handle. “It’s physics.” He glanced at Thor. “Alright, so, uh, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?”
Thor nodded benevolently. “Yes.”
Tony grasped the handle and put one foot on the table. “I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.” He grunted and pulled, but the hammer didn’t move at all. He removed the loop and cleared his throat. “Be right back.”
He stormed away and came back not one minute later with an Iron Man glove from his latest model. “That’s cheating!” Maria called.
Tony put it on and grasped the handle. “And I’m Tony Stark.” He yanked on the handle, but the Asgardian weapon remained unmovable. He turned his hand and little turbines came out of the arm, acting like a rocket. Still, Mjölnir stayed still as a rock.
(Y/N) shook her head, grinning as Tony struggled with the hammer. “Give it a rest, pretty boy, you can’t lift it.”
“I can and will, sugar lips,” Tony retorted good-naturedly. He waved Rhodey over and the latter put on his own hand gear from War Machine. Watching them try and lift it together was hysterical and (Y/N) could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard.
Next up was Bruce, who climbed on the table and screamed when he couldn’t lift the hammer. Everyone stared at him in amusement and he flushed pink, embarrassed.
(Y/N) had her head on Steve’s knee when Maria tried and failed. The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent turned to (Y/N). “Alright, you’re up.”
She lifted her head, chewing on her lip. “Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not doing it.”
Tony whined. “Come on! After Capsicle and Shakespeare in the Park, you’re the strongest one here!”
He wasn’t wrong. That’s another reason she and Steve were both so close-- they were the only enhanced beings in the tower. Her super strength and cat-like agility earned her the nickname of The Leopard, only she wasn’t experimented on. Her mom had been a chemist for S.H.I.E.L.D. when (Y/N) was young, and one day she came to work with her mom and there was an explosion that resulted from the leak of a new serum designed to replicate the one inside Steve. She and her mom both got struck. The result? She got powers and her mom was killed.
“I’m not lifting it, Stark,” she said firmly. She held his gaze. Normally, she’d sigh at the sight of those puppy dog eyes and grudgingly give into whatever task he wanted her to complete. But this… this was different.
Thor boomed, “It is not about strength, Stark. It is about worthiness.”
And I’m the least worthy person here, she said silently.
Steve petted her head for a second before patting her shoulder. “I’ll try.”
Grateful, she shuffled to the side to let him stand. She took his place on the couch next to Thor and watched as he rolled up the sleeves of his button-up. His blonde hair glowed in the light and his arm muscles flexed as he gripped onto the hammer.
Clenching his jaw, Steve tugged on the hammer… and it moved slightly. Thrilled, (Y/N) stole a glance at Thor’s face and nearly pissed herself. Thor looked so shocked. Stifling her laughter, she watched as Steve pulled on the handle once more before letting go, holding up his hands in surrender.
Thor audibly blew out a sigh of relief, a small smile returning to his face. (Y/N) shoved his arm. “Don’t worry, no one’s coming for your throne, Thunder.”
Steve chuckled at that and sat back down next to her. Everyone looked at Nat, who smiled and took a sip of her beer. “Oh, no, no, that’s not a question I need answered.”
Tony raised his bottle. “All deference to the man who wouldn’t be king, but it’s rigged.”
Clint clapped Tony on the shoulder. “You bet your ass.”
Maria piped up, “Steve, he said a bad language word.”
“Did you tell everyone about that?” Steve demanded, glaring at Tony as (Y/N) buried her face in his shoulder to smother her laughter. Steve wrapped his arm around her instead of pushing her away, and when she lifted her head, she had to look away from Natasha, whose smirking expression was directed right at her and Steve. Nat has caught them curled up together on the couch before, and each time (Y/N) has told her “Steve is my best friend.” Even though I want more.
Tony leaped to continue his previous train of thought. “The handle’s imprinted. Like a security code. ‘Whosoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints’ is I think the literal translation.”
“Yes, that’s a, uh, very, very interesting theory,” Thor replied, standing with his Asgardian ale in one hand. “I have a simpler one.” He lifted the hammer with ease and flipped it, catching it gracefully. “You are all not worthy.”
(Y/N) shook her head with a small smile on her face, Steve and Clint laughed, Rhodey and Bruce scoffed, Tony groaned a “Come on!” and Maria and Natasha exchanged looks with the now awake Dr. Cho.
Suddenly, a loud feedback whine pierced the air and everyone reacted, some stiffening and the others covering their ears. Tony frowned and pulled out his transparent pad that controlled everything in the tower.
A voice that sent chills down (Y/N)’s spine came to their attention, as well as the clanking of metal. “Worrrrrrtttttthhhhyyyy.” A tattered, roughed-up-looking version of one of Tony’s suits lurched into the living room, leaking oil. It turned to face them. It flourished its hand, and when it spoke next, its voice was clearer, more masculine, and much more sinister. “No. How could you be worthy? You’re all killers.”
At that, (Y/N) stiffened as dread rooted deep down in her gut. Steve let go of her and stood, his stern eyes fixed on the robot. “Stark,” he challenged without looking at the billionaire.
“J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony called.
“I’m sorry, I was asleep.” The suit turned his head, the lights in his eyes flickering. “Or I was a dream.”
Tony tapped on the pad. “Reboot. We’ve got a buggy suit.”
The robot in front of them shielded his face. “There was this terrible noise, and I was tangled in… in…” he looked down at the wires and spare parts keeping the frame together. “...strings.”
(Y/N) and everyone else who had been sitting set down their drinks and stood, all of them tense. The suit flourished his hand again. “Had to kill the other guy… he was a good guy.”
“You killed someone?” Steve asked, serious and condescending.
Those words and his tone made (Y/N) feel a little sick, but she willed herself not to react and instead focused on the terrifying suit, which glanced at the floor. “Wasn’t my first call. But… in the real world, we’re faced with ugly choices.”
“Who sent you?” (Y/N) asked calmly.
The suit straightened up as the sound of a tape rewinding filled their ears. “I see a suit of armor around the world,” Tony’s voice came through.
Tony’s face paled. Bruce stared at him. “Ultron.”
(Y/N), Steve and Thor shot a bewildered look at Tony, while Natasha, Rhodey, and Clint all looked at Bruce for answers. Maria cocked her gun and Thor’s grip on his hammer tightened. (Y/N) clenched her fists and exchanged a look with Steve.
“In the flesh,” the suit answered. “Or, no, not yet. Not this… chrysalis. But I’m ready. I’m on a mission.”
Natasha tilted her head. “What mission?”
Ultron jutted his chin out, and if he had a real form, (Y/N) was sure he would be smiling. “Peace in our time.”
Three of Tony’s suits burst out of the wall, concrete and plaster raining down like hail. Almost everyone dove for cover. Steve flipped up the coffee table just in time for a suit to collide with it, sending both (Y/N) and Steve over the couch.
He immediately reached for her, his eyes wide. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She scrambled to her feet at the same time he did. She ducked as one of the suits flew straight over her head and watched Thor smack it with his hammer.
She hurried over to the bar, where Natasha and Bruce were hunkered down, the assassin using her gun. Maria was also firing her gun, Clint was nowhere to be seen, and Rhodey tumbled through the glass window onto the landing below.
Grabbing a long skewer, she leaped onto the back of a suit that was towering over a terrified Dr. Cho. (Y/N) tried to impale the skewer in between the helmet and neck, hoping to dismantle some of the wires, but it threw her off and into the grand piano with a great crash. The impact barely hurt her, but it certainly knocked the air out of her lungs. She tumbled onto her back, winded, and her eyes widened in fear when the suit faced her.
Unbeknownst to her, Ultron cocked its head and turned his attention toward her. “Interesting.”
Natasha and Bruce hurried up the stairs, Clint barely missed a shot from a suit, Tony hopped onto the back of another one, and the suit looming over (Y/N) got distracted by Maria.
Her heart in her throat, (Y/N) watched as Steve got slammed against the wall on the second landing. He fell to the ground hard, groaning. Thinking quickly, she twisted her head and saw his shield. It was heavy as all hell for everyone else, but for her, it was nothing.
“STEVE!” She yelled, gripping onto the shield.
Steve bolted to his feet and at the same time, (Y/N) threw it to him like a frisbee. Thor dismantled one suit, Tony took down the other, but the third remained. With a spin, Steve threw his shield and it tore the suit in half.
It was over as fast as it had started. It was quiet for a second, the only sound being everyone’s panting. (Y/N) rubbed her neck and gripped onto the wall for support.
Ultron shook his head. “That was dramatic. I’m sorry, I know you mean well, you just didn’t think it through.”
Steve took a few angry steps forward and (Y/N) stiffened. Ultron continued. “You want to protect the world but you don’t want it to change. How is humanity saved if it’s not allowed to... evolve?” He bent and picked up the destroyed head of one of the suits. “With these? These puppets.” Ultron threw down the head and surveyed the room. “There’s only one path to peace. The Avengers’ extinction.”
Thor grunted and threw Mjölnir. The hammer smashed Ultron into pieces against the wall before flying back to Thor’s hand.
The lights in Ultron’s head sparked and flickered. In a sing-songy, raspy voice, the suit murmured, “I had strings, but now I’m free… there are no strings on me…” Then, it flickered and died.
Everyone remained frozen for a second as the tower’s lights flickered. Some went out. Steve rushed over to (Y/N), his intense fury softening as he looked at her. He reached to inspect her neck. “You okay?”
She nodded, though she was far from it. Ultron’s words about them being killers and his creepy disappearance… it unsettled her. She had a feeling they hadn’t heard the last of him.
She was right. Down in Tony’s lab, they realized Ultron had taken all of the Iron Man suits, Loki’s staff, important files, and hard drives. He was in the internet now and was most likely downloading everything he could about each and every one of them. The thought of that robot looking into her file made (Y/N) feel sick. Only Nick Fury had access to her file, but it was clear that Ultron could bypass that.
They also learned that Ultron could access anything he wanted, like nuclear codes. They all figured out that J.A.R.V.I.S. was the person Ultron killed. Tony revealed that he created Ultron because of a vision the female Maximoff gave him when they seized the scepter. He saw what he called “The Endgame,” and he didn’t believe the Avengers would be enough to save the world. Steve assured him that even if they lost the war, they would do it together.
That night, when all was quiet in the tower and everyone was asleep, (Y/N) began to toss and turn. She couldn’t get Ultron out of her head. The monstrosity followed her into the depths of her nightmares and made her feel trapped. Images of him infiltrating her file terrified her to no end.
She sat up and ran a hand through her hair. It was no use. She needed water, or milk. She climbed out of bed and padded to the elevator. It took her to the kitchen.
She was a few footsteps away from the fridge when she heard it. “(Y/N).”
Ultron. She spun around, her fists out, but there was nothing there. Shocked, she lowered her fists. But then, she heard it again, much more sinister. “(Y/N).”
“What do you want from me?” She tried her best to keep her tone harsh.
“Do they know?” Ultron’s voice was quiet and menacing.
(Y/N) stood at attention. “Do they know what?”
Ultron chuckled darkly. (Y/N)’s eyes darted every which way, but she couldn’t see him, only hear him. “What I read in that file of yours… how many years has it been since the “accident”? Or should we call it what it really is?”
She felt her blood go cold. He wasn’t talking about 2012. He was talking about when she was seventeen. Her breathing got more shallow.
Ultron continued. “I’ll ask again… do… they… know?”
“Please.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper as her mouth dried up. Her hands began to shake.
“It’s the reason you’re not worthy to lift the God of Thunder’s mighty hammer.” The sarcasm in his voice made her heart beat faster. “You will never be worthy. How could you be? You’re a killer. Imagine how your closest friends would react. Just think of God’s righteous man seeing you for who you really are… ”
“No.” She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “No, no, no.”
His voice, his words… it didn’t stop. Monster… murderer…
The kitchen got darker and more confined, until (Y/N) felt like she was in a cage. The words got louder and louder until she screamed…
Drenched in sweat, (Y/N) jerked upright, panting. Her hands wildly felt around her. She was in bed. It had just been a dream.
But there was a truth to it that shook her to the core, a fear that she hoped and prayed would never come true.
A knock at her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. The intruder spoke up, their voice gentle. “(Y/N), it’s Nat. You okay?”
“Fine, Nat. Just a bad dream,” the girl lied. She fought to take deep breaths and slow her racing heart. “Sorry I woke you.”
She could tell Nat was hesitating so she forced more conviction into her voice. “Seriously, I’m okay. It’s not so bad tonight. Sorry again. Just… don’t mention it to anybody, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As the only girls in the Avengers, they shared this floor together. Unfortunately, nightmares were a common occurrence for (Y/N), and every time she accidentally woke up Natasha, guilt steadily consumed her. She never once let Natasha see her pain, her terror. No one could see. She was the “strong one”, the bold and cheeky (Y/N) that everyone knew and respected. Not the pathetic, shriveling mess that screamed herself awake in the middle of the night.
(Y/N) breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she heard Natasha’s footsteps recede. She was alone. Tears stung her eyes. Always alone.
She curled up in a ball and muffled her sobs, so as not to wake Natasha again.
***
It wasn’t long until they got a tip. Ultron had teamed up with Wanda Maximoff and her twin brother Pietro and were going to make a deal with an old weapons supplier of Tony’s. The rumor was that he had just come into a large stock of vibranium that Ultron wanted to get his hands on.
Pale yellow streams of light poked through the window when (Y/N) woke up. It was the morning of the raid. Silently, she climbed out of bed and suited up. She wore a dark blue leather coat that had leopard print on the inside-- courtesy of Stark. She also wore a blue leather top, black leather pants and boots, and her hair was done in a simple french braid down her back.
She crept into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, like normal. On a regular day, she’d wake up before dawn and go for a run with Steve. Sometimes they raced each other, sometimes they just walked and talked. But last night, she’d barely gotten any sleep, and she had a feeling Steve would skip the run, too.
After she sat at the bar with her mug, Steve walked in, fiddling with one of his gloves. He was in full Captain gear, and the sight of him made (Y/N)’s heart flutter. He always looked handsome, but his uniform and cropped golden hair along with his gorgeous face and eyes always made heat rush to her cheeks. He was just as handsome as he was good and kind. She definitely didn’t deserve him.
Steve wordlessly made his own cup and sat next to her. His thumbs traced the sides of his mug. “You look tired.”
“Thanks,” (Y/N) muttered. She rubbed her temples. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
“You haven’t been sleeping well since Ultron attacked.” Steve peered at her with his signature mom expression. “You’ve been having nightmares again, haven’t you?”
(Y/N) stiffened and met his gaze. “Nat told you?”
Steve shook his head. “Last night I couldn’t sleep so I went for a run in the stairwell. When I reached your floor I heard screaming so I went to check on you, but Nat came out and stopped me. She told me you were okay and to just leave it.”
(Y/N) was quiet for a second. She felt a little guilty for thinking Nat would betray her. Steve covered her hand with his. “You know you can talk to me, right? I may not have gone through what you and Clint did during 2012, but I’ve seen my fair share of horrors.”
“You haven’t done what I’ve done, Steve,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Before she joined the Avengers, (Y/N) worked closely with Clint and Natasha at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was the only enhanced agent, and everyone fought to keep that a secret. Then, Loki arrived. He turned his scepter on her and Clint, forcing them under the control of the mind stone. It was then that Loki came to notice (Y/N)’s strength and agility. He used her as his prized second in command and ruthless assassin. A lot of the human lives lost in Stuttgart, on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet, and during the Battle of New York were because of her.
Steve sighed. “(Y/N), what’s it gonna take for you to forgive yourself? You were under mind control.”
She shook her head. “So was Loki, but everyone blames him.” She interlaced her fingers with his. “Controlled or not, I have the blood of innocents on my hands.”
For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to tell him about the accident, to share the overwhelming amount of guilt of murdering innocent people in 2012. Would he still be here, holding her hand? Or would he hate her as much as she hated herself? No. She couldn’t tell him. Not till she was ready.
Steve said nothing, just kept holding her hand. He changed the subject, much to her relief. “Are your nightmares about Ultron?”
“Sometimes.” (Y/N) took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t wanna face that Maximoff girl. You heard what she did to Tony.” The thought of someone infiltrating her mind again made her want to throw up.
“I won’t let her near you,” Steve said firmly. He gently placed his index finger under her chin and turned her face toward his. “Do you hear me? I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart.”
She smiled softly, transfixed by his baby blue eyes. His gaze flicked to her lips, and for a split second, he leaned forward—
“Lady (Y/N), are there any Strawberry Pop-Tarts left in the cabinet?” Thor called, trudging into the kitchen in full Asgardian armor.
Looking away from Steve, (Y/N) couldn’t ignore the disappointment washing over her. “Should still be a box on the top shelf, Thunder.” She let go of Steve’s hand, but she didn’t see that he looked crestfallen at the missed opportunity, too.
An hour later, they were all assembled on the Quinjet and headed toward the African coast. Everyone was pretty solemn during the trek, the silence only being broken by Thor’s ramblings and Tony’s jokes. But even the God of Thunder and the sass master himself were more grim than normal.
As they snuck into the salvage yard and the hatch of the Quinjet opened, (Y/N) exchanged a look with Steve. He reached for her hand, squeezed it once, and let go. She didn’t need to hear him speak to know he was telling her he’s got her back.
They ran into the building, finding the discarded bodies of workers all along the floor. Tony in his Iron Man suit led the way, followed by (Y/N), Steve, Thor, Clint, and Natasha. Bruce hung back on the Quinjet-- they didn’t need The Big Guy just yet.
They all split up inside the salvage yard just as Ultron yelled, “Don’t compare me with Stark, he’s a sickness!” He had forged a new suit for himself. The robot was now about seven feet tall with red eyes and a shiny metal body. His back was turned to them.
“Aww, Junior,” Tony called, his voice filtered through the Iron Man helmet. “You’re gonna break your old man’s heart.” He landed down with a clunk on the metal bridge, facing his creation. Thor and Steve were behind him. Natasha and Clint were sneaking in from the sides, and (Y/N) was coming in from the back. Their goal was to box the enemy in.
Ultron turned to face them, flanked by Wanda and Pietro. (Y/N) allowed herself a brief moment of wariness before putting her game face on. She was armed with batons about the length of her arm, coincidentally made of vibranium.
“If I have to,” Ultron drawled, his voice powerful and menacing.
“No one has to break anything,” Thor warned.
Ultron and the Maximoffs approached until they were a few feet away from the three Avengers. “Clearly, you’ve never made an omelet.”
Tony tilted his head. “He beat me by one second.”
(Y/N) shook her head at his almost proud comment. She delicately ducked behind the door behind the Maximoffs and Ultron, peering out at them.
“Ah, so this is funny… Mr. Stark,” Pietro remarked, his Sokovian accent thick. “It’s, what… comfortable?” He glanced down at the missiles and other weapons. “Like old times?”
“This was never my life.” Tony sounded much more serious now.
Steve took a step forward, his eyes on the twins. “You two can still walk away from this.”
Wanda cocked her head. “Oh, we will.”
Steve didn’t back down. “I know you’ve suffered.” They’d heard about the twins losing their parents and nearly dying themselves in the process.
“Ah… Captain America.” Ultron gazed at Steve condescendingly. “God’s righteous man.”
At that, (Y/N) flinched. Ultron had called him that in her nightmare. However, when she saw Steve’s familiar haunted look appear, her fear turned into anger. She withdrew one of her staffs from its sheath.
“Pretending you could live without a war,” Ultron continued. “I can’t physically throw up in my mouth, but-”
“If you believe in peace, then let us keep it,” Thor cut him off.
Ultron took a step closer. “I think you’re confusing peace with quiet.”
Tony was over it. “Yuh-huh. What’s the vibranium for?”
“I’m glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan,” Ultron drawled.
Suddenly, he pulled his metal fist back and the energy sucked Tony forward. Ultron blasted him back against the wall and everyone sprung into action.
Tony and Ultron went head to head as suits-- clearly designed by Ultron-- came pouring out of a doorway. Pietro was a blur as he went around, trying to attack the Avengers. His sister was more successful and managed to blast Steve back.
(Y/N) launched out from the doorway and used her strength and one of her batons to knock the head of a suit clean off its body. She leaped over the railing and landed on the bottom floor. A small grin worked its way onto her face as two suits came down to meet her, tall and strong.
She swept the legs out from under one and started to attack the other, but it dodged her heavy blow. She was grabbed by it but twisted her body, ran along the side of a crate, and flipped up and over the suit, tearing its head off.
Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint took down a lot of the weapons dealer’s crew, who were shooting at both the suits and the Avengers. Steve forced Pietro to the ground a little ways away from (Y/N). His eyes flicked over to her, watching her battle Ultron’s minions. He’d been keeping his eye on her, and he was relieved and proud that she was holding her own. He smiled and went back to fighting.
Then Wanda struck.
It was Thor who went down first. A quick tendril of magic infiltrated his mind and turned his eyes red.
“Thor! Status!” Steve barked.
Nothing. He saw Thor falter and freeze in place on the second level as if he was frozen in time.
Immediately, he knew it was Wanda. He spun around, eyes wide and filled with worry. Before he could warn his girl, he was knocked backward by Pietro and witnessed his worst fear with a flick of Wanda’s wrist.
(Y/N) had no idea what was happening. She was easily taking down suit after suit, barely breaking a sweat. She heard static crackling in her earpiece but figured that was just a result of everyone’s efforts.
She was about to deliver a fatal blow to the largest of Ultron’s creations when it spoke. “Were you this talented of a fighter at seventeen, Agent (L/N)?”
(Y/N) froze in her tracks, her baton raised over her head. The suit climbed back onto its feet, its eerie eyes peering straight at her. When it spoke again, its voice bore a significant resemblance to that of Ultron’s. She felt like he was directly talking to her.
“That was your first kill.” It wasn’t a question… the suit knew. Ultron had examined her file.
(Y/N) swung at the suit, but her nerves made her sloppy. The suit grabbed her baton, locking her in place. “Did you enjoy your first kill as much as you enjoyed taking the lives you took in the Battle of New York?”
With a shriek, (Y/N) twisted her wrist and tore the baton free. She attacked the suit with both batons, her viciousness masking her vulnerable state of mind. When she’d backed the suit into a corner, she finally let up on her onslaught, panting. “I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t enjoy it then, and I didn’t enjoy it in 2012. I’m not a killer. I was under mind control.”
“Not the first time. You became a murderer of your own accord.” The suit stood again, looming over her.
“Stop it.” (Y/N) shook her head violently.
The suit took a step forward. “How did it feel, watching his life slip away? How did it feel, realizing that you took a life and it was all for nothing?”
(Y/N)’s hands tightened around her batons, trembling. “Stop it.”
The suit was relentless. “How did it feel to be completely and utterly alone?”
“I SAID STOP!” (Y/N) screamed and lunged, but she never reached the suit. A flash of red was all she saw and then the room shifted.
She stumbled and dropped her batons, trying to grasp onto a crate, but she grasped onto a railing instead. It didn’t feel metallic; it was sleek and smooth. She turned her head and realized she was gripping a wooden railing.
She looked up, expecting to see the metal landing and the rest of her friends in the midst of battle. Instead, she saw a carpeted staircase with walls on either side.
Instantly, she felt cold, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. She was back home, back in the memory that haunted her sleep without relief.
She could hear the thumps from where she stood, tears already springing to her eyes. “No. No,” she choked out and sprinted up the stairs.
Even though she already knew what she would find at the top of the stairs, she still screamed. There was her dad, hovering over her baby brother, beating him bloody. It was obvious that Bobby was having trouble breathing. He was practically lying in a pool of blood.
Dad hated both (Y/N) and Bobby, but once (Y/N) got her powers, he couldn’t take out his aggression on her like when her mom was alive. Instead, he turned his attention to Bobby.
“Stop, you’re gonna kill him!” (Y/N) screamed, echoing the words she spoke when she was seventeen.
“Stay out of this, freak!” Dad roared, giving her a snarl that looked like a dog baring its teeth.
As if on autopilot, (Y/N) gripped onto his shoulders and ripped him away from Bobby. Unlike how it happened all those years ago, she was forced to watch his stumble in slow motion. She stood with her jaw dropped as he tumbled down the stairs and straight into the wall, his head colliding with the plaster so hard that a loud crack split the air. Blood seeped out of the wound, and he lay perfectly still. He was dead.
(Y/N) stared at her hands in revulsion. But tears began to fall when she realized what would happen next.
She whirled around and knelt next to her baby brother, whose chest was heaving and shuddering. This. This was what she saw almost every night, the image that never seemed to escape her. “Hey, hey, Bobby, please. Please. Stay alive. Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone!”
Bobby’s innocent eyes met hers briefly before closing. His chest rose once more, but it did not fall. He, too, was still.
“NO!” (Y/N) screamed, scrabbling at his body.
Bobby’s body disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and (Y/N) covered her face with her hands as she cried. She was too late to save him. She tried, but in doing so she killed her dad. He was a menace, but she’d never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt anybody.
But the nightmare was far from over.
“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice spoke. However, instead of the normal softness and affection in his voice, this time his tone was laced with disapproval and disgust.
(Y/N) leaped to her feet and turned around, wiping her eyes. Steve stood there, his helmet off. Behind him was Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce. They all looked horrified and furious.
“You just killed your dad,” Bruce said in a hushed voice.
(Y/N)’s hands began to shake. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I-I just-”
“No, no, no, you don’t get to justify what we just saw,” Tony snapped, holding up his finger.
Tears burned (Y/N)’s eyes. “I was a kid. My powers weren’t under control yet! You have to believe me!”
Natasha and Clint looked disappointed. The former Red Room assassin shook her head in disbelief. “I was trained to become a killer. You became one on your own.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him.” (Y/N) couldn’t stop the stream of tears as they steadily dripped down her cheeks. “I was just trying to save my brother.”
“And how’d that work out for you?” Clint scoffed. “How many more dads did you kill in 2012? No wonder Loki chose you-- you’re wicked, just like him.”
(Y/N) couldn’t breathe. She clutched her ribs, desperately forcing air into her lungs. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. Guys, please.” She looked at the people she saw as her siblings. “Clint? Nat?” They’d said they understood about 2012… but they were looking at her with pure venom.
One by one, her team turned their backs to her and walked away, disappearing into vapor. The only one who remained was Steve, whose head was lowered.
“Stevie?” (Y/N) tentatively approached him, reaching for his hand.
He ripped it away like she’d burned him and she recoiled. Steve fixed her with a cruel glare. “Now I know why you refused to pick up Thor’s hammer. You’re not worthy, and this is why.”
(Y/N) felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. “Steve-”
“I thought the world of you. I wanted the best for you. I wanted a future with you.” Steve’s voice was low and dark. “Now… I don’t want anything to do with you.”
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it and she fell to her knees. “Stevie, please!” She grabbed his hand and he pulled it away, walking away from her.
“Stevie, please, come back!” (Y/N) begged and pleaded, but she received no response.
Convulsing with sobs, she curled up on the floor, crying her heart out. Her worst fears had just been realized. The Avengers hated her as much as she hated herself for what she did, and Steve, her Captain… he hated her, too.
“It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault,” she whispered brokenly, wishing she could turn back time and reverse everything. “It wasn’t my fault.”
And that’s how Steve, the real Steve, found her.
When his vision cleared, he hauled himself up. Clint gave him the status report that he took Wanda out of the running, at least temporarily, and the archer went to look for Natasha.
Steve’s mouth went dry. Where was his girl? He reached for his earpiece, ready to command her to tell him where she was, when he heard it. The sobs.
He ran faster than he ever had in his life. It took him only a second to find her, curled up on the floor and crying.
He fell to his knees beside her, tearing off his helmet and setting down his shield. “(Y/N)... hey, hey, hey.” His hands fidgeted, longing to touch her but afraid of how she’d react. “Sweetheart, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”
(Y/N) obeyed him, but her mind was still trapped in another world. Her eyes darted lazily around, the flow of tears never ending. She met his gaze and he flinched when he saw the raw brokenness in their depths. “It wasn’t my fault... it wasn’t my fault.”
Steve frowned and this time, he touched her. He ran his fingers through her hair, which had fallen out of its neat french braid. “What’s not your fault, sweetheart?”
“Please, you have to believe me,” she cried. “It wasn’t my fault, Stevie. You have to believe me. You have to believe me.”
“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay. I believe you.” Steve’s tone was soft and gentle as he cooed to her, trying to calm her down. Frankly, he was freaked out, too, by her state and what he saw in his own vision. And he was angry. He’d been complacent. He promised her he would keep her safe, that he wouldn’t let Wanda infiltrate her mind. But he was careless, and now his girl was a wreck.
(Y/N) locked eyes with Steve, a bit of hope returning to her (e/c) depths. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve confirmed, forcing a smile.
Clint’s voice comes in on the earpiece. “All the tin men are down, but the Maximoffs are gone. So is Ultron. Tony said the Big Guy escaped and he’s fetching him. I think we need to head back to the jet. Tasha’s in bad shape.”
Steve pressed his own earpiece, looking down at the sweet girl who was crying silently next to him. “So is (Y/N). We’ll meet you at the jet.”
He placed his shield on his back and gathered (Y/N)’s weapons, placing them in his belt loops. He gently worked his arm into the crook of her knees and wrapped his other arm around her back. He stood, cradling her in his arms. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get outta here.”
She curled into him, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, she was still looking around blankly, like her mind was still adrift.
He carried her out of the warehouse, through the salvage yard, and onto the Quinjet. Natasha was slumped in a corner, pale and trembling. Thor looked tense and bewildered. Clint was unaffected vision-wise, but he was pacing the floor of the jet and scratching his head.
When Steve entered the jet, Clint turned and stiffened. “Oh, shit.”
Steve ignored his comment, clueing the archer into how worried Steve was. He followed closely as Steve sat down on one of the seats, arranging (Y/N) so she lay comfortably across the seats with her head in his lap.
“What did she see?” Clint asked quietly.
Steve shook his head, his eyes trained on (Y/N)’s face. His fingers gently combed through her hair, and his other hand traced light designs on her hand. “I don’t know. She wasn’t making much sense. She kept saying something wasn’t her fault. I’ve never seen her like this.”
Clint’s gaze was soft as he looked at her. “I was with her when Loki’s spell lifted. She barely spoke after.” He glanced at Steve. “Actually, it was you who got through to her. You got her to talk again. What Loki’s magic made her do… it damaged her. Being mind-controlled once is no joke, but twice?” He sighed. “Poor kid.” He stood and walked over to the pilot’s seat.
Steve’s heart was heavy, but at the same time filled with warmth. Had he really been the one to help (Y/N) come back to herself after 2012? As he gazed down at her, he decided it would be his job to bring her back this time, too.
So he kept stroking her hair, whispering to her. “(Y/N). Come back to me, sweetheart. It’s me, Stevie. If anyone can fight back against the power of that vision, it’s you. You’re strong, so strong. Stronger than all of us. I’m here. Your family’s all here. Just come back. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go. I promise. You’re safe with me.”
Though (Y/N) didn’t respond, her eyes flicked to meet his gaze and he could’ve sworn he saw a sparkle of recognition return to her eyes. Encouraged, Steve kept talking.
He lost himself in his quiet affirmations and gentle words to her, so much so that he didn’t notice Thor, Clint, and even Natasha watching. Thor and Clint smiled slightly, and Natasha, as shaken as she was, felt emotional watching the tender display. It was really obvious to everyone except Steve and (Y/N) that they had fallen for each other.
The three of them were so moved that when Tony and Bruce returned, Clint went out to meet them and warned them to keep their voices down and not make any comments-- with that bit being directed at Tony-- about what they were about to see.
All Tony said when they walked onto the jet and saw Steve with (Y/N) cradled on his lap was a grumbled, “Finally.”
***
They decided that it was too dangerous to return to the Tower. Ultron was everywhere, and after the whole Hulk incident they needed to lie low. Clint guided the jet toward a location he refused to tell the others about, and spoke quietly with Tony. They were the only two who hadn’t been hit with a vision at the salvage yard.
Thor was acting a little gruffer than normal, Natasha was quiet, and Bruce was weary, but the one they were really worried about was (Y/N). For the entirety of the Quinjet ride, her head rested on Steve’s thigh as she slowly came back to reality. It was Steve’s gentle touches and grounding words that eventually brought her back. But even then, she was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn.
“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” Steve whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t slip back into your head.”
She nodded once, her face lined with sadness and a hint of fear. It made Steve’s heart ache. He kept his blue eyes locked with her (e/c) ones. “Do you remember Clint and Natasha? They’re like your brother and sister. We’re your family. You’re safe with us.”
He kept having to repeat these statements in order to keep her present. He did so without complaint and with a heart full of affection and concern for his girl.
At the mention of Clint and Natasha, the fear grew on her face and Steve moved his hand from her hair to her face. He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We all love you. I-” He swallowed. “… care about you so much, (Y/N). You’re safe with us, okay?”
“Okay, Stevie.” Her voice was small and quiet, reminding Steve of his mom after getting her ass handed to her by his dad. He hated it, and wanted nothing more for (Y/N)’s smile to return. So, he kept forcing a smile for her sake and continued anchoring her with his words and touches.
After a few hours, Clint landed the jet next to a farmhouse. Steve stood and held out his hands to (Y/N). “Can you stand for me, pretty girl?”
She nodded shakily and stood, taking his hands. He wrapped his arm around her protectively. The other Avengers watched with a mixture of worry and awe on their faces.
He and (Y/N) trailed behind as Clint helped Natasha walk and led Bruce, Tony, and Thor inside the house. When Clint’s pregnant wife appeared, who the Avengers had no idea about (except for Natasha), they all were stunned. Laura and Natasha caught up and Clint introduced them all to his kids and explained why he kept their location a secret.
(Y/N) tried to smile and hesitantly shook Laura’s hand. The yelling of the kids and the chatter of the others made her tense up. Steve rubbed her arms and made eye-contact with Clint.
Having seen (Y/N) go through something like this once before, Clint strode over to them and kept his voice low. “Tasha’s gonna sleep with Laura. Me, Tony, Thor, and Bruce will sleep in the living room. You two can take the guest room.”
(Y/N) was too in her head to fully process what he said, but Steve’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to question why he and (Y/N) should share a room and protest that it wasn’t appropriate, but Clint rolled his eyes. “Just take the damn room. Go. You’ll thank me later.”
Wordlessly, Steve took (Y/N)’s hand and-- after hearing Clint’s directions-- guided her upstairs. He entered a small but quaint room and shut the door. (Y/N) silently sat on the bed, her eyes on her hands.
Steve exhaled deeply. He walked to her and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. She met his gaze, her expression clouded. Steve squeezed her hands lightly. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What did you see? I want to help you.”
“You won’t once I tell you,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes.
Steve’s tone was gentle but firm. “Try me.”
(Y/N) took a shaky breath. “Did… did I ever tell you how young I was when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
Steve frowned, concentrating. “You said you were seventeen. You were one of their youngest recruits.”
(Y/N)’s hands fidgeted in his grip. “Did I say why I joined?”
“You said you didn’t want to go to college, that you wanted to work there to honor your mother.” Steve sounded puzzled.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “That-that was-um… it wasn’t the whole truth.”
Steve looked at her encouragingly, and that just made it harder for (Y/N). She swallowed. “After I-uh… after I got my powers and my mom died, my dad… he became more violent. He was violent before, but losing Mom just… it just made him snap. He knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore, so he started taking it out on my baby brother. He was only twelve.”
“Go on.” Steve’s eyes were narrowed, but he made an effort to keep his voice soft.
The stinging tears made it difficult for her to see. “One-one day I heard my dad beating my brother, and when I found them, my brother was barely breathing. I yelled at my dad to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, one by one, and Steve let go of one of her hands to brush them away. “I eventually grabbed his shirt and shoved him away, but… but I-I shoved him toward the stairs.”
Steve closed his eyes and (Y/N) shook her head. “I couldn’t revive him. The fall killed him. I killed him.”
Steve’s eyes opened and he stared at her. “(Y/N), that was an accident. You didn’t kill him.”
“Stevie, I was too strong for him,” (Y/N) cried. “I should’ve-”
“Stop, stop, stop.” Steve cupped her face. “Sweetheart, you were a kid. Your powers weren’t under control yet. You didn’t mean to hurt your dad; you were just trying to save your brother.” And that monster doesn’t deserve your guilt and shame, he added silently.
(Y/N) sobbed once and Steve moved to sit next to her, pulling her onto his lap and encasing her in his arms. She cried into his shirt, staining it with her tears.
They sat like that for a minute, and he quietly shushed her and whispered words of reassurance. Once her sobs had died down, she pulled back a bit to look at him. “You… you believe me?”
“Of course I do.” His tone was matter-of-fact. Steve cupped her face again. “What happened to your brother?”
(Y/N) shuddered. “He broke a rib and it punctured his lung. I tried to give him CPR… but he was already gone. He’d lost too much blood.” The streams of tears continued to pour down her cheeks. “He was twelve, Stevie.”
Steve’s soul hurt for her, for that little boy he’d never gotten the chance to meet. He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs and kissed her forehead before pressing against it with his own. “I’m so sorry.”
(Y/N)’s small hands grasped onto his wrists as if they were her lifeline. “After that, I found Fury. He’s the only one who knows the whole story… other than you.” Her tone wobbled. “I asked him to lock me up. He gave me a job instead. He took a chance on me.”
Steve pulled her to him and his nose brushed her ear as (Y/N) continued to shake. “I’d managed to redeem myself in my mind. But then 2012 happened. When I realized what I’d done, what I’d been made to do… I was back in that house, with blood on my hands.” She gave a broken laugh. “It’s ironic, really. The girl with super-human strength and agility is weak in the head. She breaks everything she touches. She makes a fucking mess wherever she goes.”
“Stop, stop,” Steve pleaded, pulling back. “You’re strong, (Y/N). So strong. You’re stronger than me, that’s for damn sure, both mentally and in your heart. You don’t break everything you touch; you bring light to the darkest places. You gave a lost super-soldier a reason to smile again, inspired him to be the best hero he could be, which would never be half as good as you. When you make a mess, you own up to it. But you’ve never once willingly put someone in harm’s way. You’ve never once willingly allowed an innocent person to suffer. You love everyone around you with your whole heart.” Steve’s own eyes were brimming with tears now. “Everyone but yourself.”
(Y/N) stared at him. Steve took her hands in his and pressed kiss after kiss to her hands. “You’re a good person. It hurts me to hear you talk like you’re not.” He made eye-contact with her. “I have a feeling I know what you saw in that vision. You saw your dad and brother dying, right?”
“That’s… that’s not all.” Dare she speak the cursed words aloud? If she did… would that make it real? She covered her mouth briefly, looking anywhere but Steve. “You and the others hated me for what I did. You looked at me with pure disappointment. You-you told me… you told me that-that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
If it was even possible, Steve’s heart broke even further. “Oh, sweetheart.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, gently forcing her to look at him. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I could never hate you for what happened. Neither could the others. I’m sure if they found out, they’d all feel nothing but compassion for you. What happened? It wasn’t your fault. We’d never blame you. We all love you.” He moved his hand up to run the backs of his fingers against her cheekbone. She unconsciously leaned into his touch. Steve’s tone held sincerity when he said, “I love you.”
(Y/N)’s breath got caught in her throat. The flow of tears slowed, and Steve noticed. A small, watery smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, sweetheart. Have for a while now.” He shook his head. “And you don’t have to say it back—”
(Y/N) cut him off with a gentle whisper. “But I want to.” She wiped her cheeks and moved to cup his handsome face in her little hands. “I love you, Stevie.”
Steve gazed at her with softness and adoration. He leaned forward and kissed her chastely. The kiss was delicate, but for both of them it felt as if sparks were flying. When he pulled away, (Y/N) pouted and Steve laughed. He rubbed his nose against hers. “Trust me, sweetheart, when you’re feeling better, I’ll give you all the kisses you want. But I don’t wanna take advantage.”
(Y/N)’s heart fluttered. Whether it was because he was from the 40s, or because he was just a true gentleman, he was the most considerate man she’d ever met.
She scrubbed her face, stifling a yawn as she did so. Steve noticed. “I think someone’s tired. Lie down.”
She could hear a tiny bit of his Captain voice as he spoke, and that made her smile. She was exhausted, it was true. Barely sleeping for the past couple weeks on top of the emotional baggage of today was more than draining.
She climbed under the covers of the queen-sized bed, and before she could ask Steve to stay, he shuffled over to her. “Scoot over, big guy coming through.”
(Y/N) laughed softly and did as he asked. Pretty soon, her back was against his chest and his big arms were encircled around her. He sighed, content.
She felt herself falling asleep already, but curiosity nagged at her. “What did you see in your vision?”
Steve sighed again, but this time, she could practically hear the resignation in it. “I saw myself going back to the 40s and dancing with Peggy.”
A bolt of jealousy and unease struck her. “Why did Wanda show you that?”
Steve buried his face in her hair, lightly brushing his lips against her ear and making her shiver. “Because she wanted to show us all our biggest fear.”
The unease faded to confusion. “Why was dancing with Peggy your biggest fear?”
“Because she wasn’t you,” Steve said simply. She felt his embrace get a little tighter. “I still care deeply for Peggy, and I try to visit her as much as I can, but I stopped dreaming about a life where I had been with her once I realized my dreams were now about you. I stopped loving her the minute I fell in love with you. Dancing with her… it was a picture of the life I don’t want anymore. It was empty and lifeless because you were gone. You’re my best girl.”
Tears sprung to (Y/N)’s eyes once more. He seemed to sense this and moved his lips from her ear to her temple. He kissed her hair and brushed his nose along her cheekbone. “Let’s go to sleep.”
(Y/N) nodded, and when she spoke she was half teasing, half serious. “Dream of me?”
Steve chuckled. “Always, pretty girl.”
They fell asleep minutes later, the super-soldier holding his girl securely to his chest. They didn’t hear the door open a crack, nor did they see Natasha peek her head in.
She smiled softly when she saw them and shut the door. She turned to face Tony, Clint, Thor, and Bruce, who all eagerly awaited the report.
“They fell asleep cuddling in the bed.” Natasha grinned at Clint. “They finally exchanged their “I love you”s.
Clint had a huge smile on his face, and he turned to Tony and held out his hand. Tony grumbled and handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “You rigged it by giving them the same room.”
“Hey, I did that so he could comfort her in private.” Clint smirked and pocketed the money. “Them finally admitting their feelings was just an added bonus.”
Bruce glanced at Tony. “So if Clint betted they’d admit their feelings, what did you bet?”
“That the Leopard and Capsicle would break the bed,” Tony muttered nonchalantly.
Natasha thumped him and Bruce facepalmed himself. Thor beamed. “No, no. The Captain is far too chivalrous for that. The courting ritual back in Asgard--”
“We can hear you guys,” Steve called, his tone a mixture of tiredness and amusement.
Natasha grabbed the boys and shoved them away from the door. She apologized to Steve and (Y/N) and walked away, muttering, “I swear, men are idiots.”
***
Thanks for reading!!!
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skywalkr-nberrie · 3 months ago
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Calling Anakin “manipulative” or “creepy” for his lines in AOTC is actually crazy to me, because George Lucas didn’t say he based their romance off the early 30’s soap opera style movies, for y’all to lose the point this hard. The inspirations he drew for Anakin and Padmé’s love story are naturally more enhanced in theatrics, are dramatically crafted, and purposefully performative. What did you expect? A post-modern style cringe love story?
Haters with these opinions are the kind of weirdos who make fun of and have 0 appreciation for classical stories like Shakespearean, Roman, and Greek tragedies. Offering up a lot of bad takes without ever truly grasping the essence of what these above mentioned stories are all about and they think they’re real smart.
Anakin saying “I’m haunted by the kiss, that you should’ve never have given me.” isn’t him blaming Padmé for kissing him or letting him kiss her. What he’s saying is that he can’t ever come back from repressing his emotions and feelings about her because now he’s had a taste of what it feels like to BE WITH HER. He’s confessing his undying love for her, and his intentions isn’t the manipulate her or make her feel “guilty” for “leading him on”. And if it translated that way to you, than I’d argue, that that’s more concerning. Btw, Padmé herself was in awe of when Anakin said this to her.
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Not to mention that Anakin DREW BACK from pursuing Padmé, because he understood that she wasn’t going to oblige whether it would’ve been because she didn’t want too out of duty or if it was something else. Anakin doesn’t bring it up again until Padmé herself does. Basically admitting that she can’t live without him anymore, and she’s been dying a little everyday pretending like she simply go back to her duties and forget him.
And calling Anakin “immature” for his feelings and the way he talks to Padmé is also a severely incorrect way to consume their love story and not because Padmé completely is swooned by Anakin’s words, but because the narrative itself makes it clear that Anakin is very self aware of what his feelings are and his words come naturally to him. He’s not speaking out of immature, irrational, and brainless hormonal nonsense. He’s calm, collected, and simply expressing his yearning and longing for the girl he’s loved for 10 years. Never at any point are we supposed to think of him as “immature” especially not in that moment either. Padmé even makes note of it in the AOTC novel, that there’s “nothing of a child left in him” and that’s he’s now, completely a man. (That’s no hint that Anakin was behaving “imMaTuReLy”)
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devildomwriter · 2 months ago
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Obey Me As Tumblr #33
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MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer
Solomon: Fork
MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin
Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha
MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out
Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time
Leviathan: We touch
Solomon: I get
Diavolo: This feeling
Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on
Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves
Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him
Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed
Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room
They said “thank you”
I said “don’t mention it”
Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?
Belphegor: Nobody tell them
Thirteen:
Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?
Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena
Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal
Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live
Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?
Lucifer: I don’t know. What?
Diavolo: A condescending con descending
Lucifer: Get out
MC: That was beautiful
Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day
Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays
Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him
Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion
Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around
Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons
Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed
Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?
Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is
Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day
Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive
Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please
Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can
Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this
Mammon: YO
Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”
I am the physical embodiment of suffering
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rendnotmyheart · 8 months ago
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✋ one of the friends who likes JGY here, and I also dislike Dazai, so I'm going to chime in, too. I honestly don't think JGY and Dazai are all that similar? Like yes they both manipulate people and put on a mask, but it's coming from very different places and within very different contexts of the narrative.
Like JGY's manipulation and mask come from the fact that he has this rage and vindictiveness inside him that he will have his birthright. And honestly, he's justified in that feeling. It's complete and utter shit and horribly unfair that he was constantly cast aside, beaten down, and ridiculed simply because of the situation of his birth. Should he have done the gruesome murders and shit? No, but I understand and sympathize with his anger at the unfairness of his life. Plus, I love LXC and I refuse to believe he was completely wrong about JGY, which leads to a slightly more sympathetic interpretation of JGY's character overall. Also, the unfairness of society is a major theme in MDZS anyway, so that also primed me to sympathize more with him. Still, I hate where JGY ended up, I hate how his justified anger at the unfairness of his life soured to rationalize horrible deeds in the name of "I had no other choice!" Like, dude. Come on.
Dazai's manipulation and mask, on the other hand, come from his feeling of detatchment and otherness. He thinks he doesn't have whatever makes other people human, so he fakes it. He also thinks him lacking this thing makes him better at being rational and analytical, hence the manipulation. This I actually find very interesting, and I've grown to like Dazai's character, and I also loveeeee skk. But I don't like Dazai. And there's one main reason. Akutagawa. FUCK Dazai for how he treats Akutagawa for real. What did he do to deserve that??? Dazai is so unnecessarily cruel to him, and I hate him for it. Like the phone scene? Fuck that.
JGY ends up doing horrid things bc he cares too much. Dazai does bc he cares too little. And bc beneath all the fucked up reasoning and thin justification for his actions, I sympathize with JGY's core motivation of "my life is fucking unfair," I don't dislike JGY the way I dislike Dazai. Bc I don't sympathize with Dazai's core motivation. "Oh Akutagawa reminds me of the worst of myself." Ok? Stop being a coward and fix your mistakes. Say what you will about JGY, but he had drive. Dazai runs away (which I find very interesting from a character analysis standpoint, but I hate him bc of the specific way it makes him so callously cruel to Akutagawa, specifically) (Also, I find Dazai annoying, so).
Anyway TL;DR, my like of JGY and dislike of Dazai is, of course, completely subjective and biased. I like JGY bc I find his character interesting and sympathetic, in so far as if he hadn't been taken it that far, I would have totally forgiven him for a couple murders. Dazai I find interesting and sympathetic as a character, too, but he very personally annoys me and is callously cruel to one of my favorite characters, so I hate him.
so i have a question that i swear is meant with complete sincerity (i just want to preface that because i know some people send shitty passive aggressive asks and i dont wanna be misunderstood).
I dislike dazai a lot and for most of the same reasons that you do but i also really dont like jgy for basically all the same reasons. I just know you're a big jgy fan but you really hate dazai and i was wondering how you reconcile those feelings? i assume we just have different interpretations of jgy (mdzs is a vast piece of media and there's a lot of different ways to interpret each character) but i've just been getting more and more curious so i wanted to ask. to be clear, i think it's totally okay to like jgy! the same way i think its okay for dazai fans to like dazai, they're just fictional characters. so this is in no meant as an attack or an 'ah ha!' moment. i just sort of don't understand liking one character and not the other when to me, all of their worst traits are the same and jgy has actually done far worse things than dazai (like murdering his own son)
i hope my ask isnt upsetting at all. you mentioned before liking to discuss meta so i really just want to introduce a conversation and maybe understand your perspective a bit better
Firstly, thank you so much for your polite ask!
I just wanna clear something up – I am not a Jgy fan XD. I see where one might think that, but I can guarantee you, I wanted him dead as fuck and I do not condone his atrocities.
Now, I do have some friends who have talked to me about Jgy, and they're Xiyao and Nieyao fans, respectively, so by talking with them, I have come to understand better some parts of Jgy's character, which have made me more forgiving towards some of his actions. Emphasis on some. Like you said, he and Dazai share the same annoying/frustrating traits, like the fact that they're lying liars 😊
I do appreciate Jgy as a character much more than I do Dazai though, that is correct, and I guess it's because of their narrative roles. Jgy has a very solid and interesting position in mdzs – in a world where social standing is such an important part of the story, the genius, bastard son of one of the wealthiest clans is constantly kicked down (lol couldn't resist), because the system has decided he doesn't deserve the same power as his half-brother, simply because of his birth situation.
And the narrative stays true to it! Time and time again, he is shut down, even when he goes to Lanling with Nie Mingjue's recommendation letter, even when he kills Wen Ruohen, even when he is married to secure his status, fate has fucked him over. It's like trying to watch Icarus reach the sun because he feels he is entitled to it.
Plus, I'm a huge Nieyao fan XD in a "they could have totally gotten married and lived happily ever after, but nooo; some of us have daddy issues *glares at jgy*"
So, this is the reason my posts have stopped being so antagonistic to Jgy, as I like to live in a delusional world where they've reincarnated in the modern world, jgy has some morals, and 3zun is happy 😇
Now, Dazai, on the other hand, I simply can't stand him. Nothing about his story or personality makes me go even as far as "yes, and?" I don't care for him as a character (though I get how he is appealing to people). I don't understand his actions 90% of the time. Plus, his actions are also frustrating and make me mad.
Like when Chuuya used corruption and he was like, "take me back at the place," and Dazai just left his ass there. "Oh, but that's their dynamic," yes, well, it annoys me. Plus, his whole thing with Akutagawa drives me up a wall because how dare you??? Motherfucker??? His first words to Akutagawa after 4 years live in my head rent-free because you could have shown that you became a better person, but nope. Still a dick. "Oh, he did that to set up the rivalry with Atsushi," you know how Beast Dazai did that? Set them up on a date. Boom. Take notes.
I also personally think Dazai either doesn't get Akutagawa fr, or he simply doesn't care to do so because Akutagawa flourishes with encouragement, it's actually sort of insane to see. Anyways. Went on a tangent there.
So yeah, Dazai is annoying, his personality sucks, he's a manipulative bastard, and he is mean to my baby :(
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stardew-shitposterino · 1 year ago
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Most to least likely Stardew Valley Bachelor to be lovey dovey in a relationship
Ok peeps, I’m in the mood for some random posting. Since some of you enjoy it, I’ll commit to it ! Why not 🤷🏼‍♀️so let’s goooo✈️
Oh and btw: a bit of NSFW again because I’m a degenerate lol. Soz to the minors 🫣
1. Elliott:
-Elliott is the obvious choice, isn’t he ?
-this man has no chill when it comes to showing you how much he loves you
-he isn’t huge on baby talk, but he’s huge on medieval Shakespearean reenactment to show his love to you
-you might not always understand where his play on words come from, but it sure as hell makes you blush like a mess
-whenever you and him have a sleepover, he leaves a note on your table that reminds you of how much he adores you! So cute 🥰
-flowers, romantic dates, evenings spent at the pub sitting on his lap while he caresses your hair, marvelling at it with a slightly drunken gaze and red cheeks 😫🫡😍😏
-…I just know that guy eats you out like no other…I said what I said 🥸
2. Sam
-ok hear me out! Before you come for my throat, I think he is more likely to be very love drunken than some of the other choices. It’s a close call for the second place, but I believe he deserves it
-overused but I don’t care: he has the golden retriever energy. Maybe it’s his ADHD, but regardless, he’s a pure boy
-he might be a little anxiously attached to you because he won’t leave your side during your honeymoon phase
-he wants to hold your hand or touch you in some way all the time. He just loves having you close 🥺
-expect him to kiss you senseless whenever he can. Preferably in private because he doesn’t want his mum to find out through bystanders, that would be embarrassing. Other than that, he wouldn’t care for the life of him. If he can pepper your neck with little kissies, he will
-speaking of kisses: he’s generally a huge fan of intense make out sessions. He prefers them over sex any time. Not that he doesn’t like the other stuff, but to him, it just hits different
-imagine that blushy, heated face when you pull away 😳 eyes hazy and hair even more disheveled than before, just adoringly gazing back into yours and smiling ever so slightly (😩😭🫨)
3. Alex
-“still no Harvey?! What’s wrong with you!?”
-I know I KNOW. I know that Harvey is a sweet boy in the game who tells you a lot of cute stuff, but idk. Something about Alex makes me believe he will be more likely the kind of partner to be sweet and a bit cringe yet adorable when it comes to the person he loves
-he might not be a poet, but he shows his adoration in other ways
-back 👏🏻 hugs 👏🏻
-generally hugging you? He will do it all the time. Any time. He will climb through your small living room window to hug you at least once a day if he has to
-for some reason, he likes kissing your arms. Don’t ask me to elaborate, he just does. Like kissing them up and down. Oh and your thighs 👀 it doesn’t even necessarily lead to anything explicit, he just loves them so much
-he will tell you how you’re the love of his life and how he cannot wait to see you two grow old together. He will lay in bed with you, maybe just watching tv and randomly blurt out something like this: “wow, who would have thought that we’d end up like this, meeting in this tired town. Having you by my side, I might be the luckiest guy to ever exist.”
-Alex frequents the beach to talk to his deceased mother. It’s kinda sweet in a way because he will talk to her about the things happening in his life. Pre-dating as well as in the midst of your relationship, he tells her so much about you, wishing she was still alive to have met you as you are the best thing that has ever happened to him 😭
-Alex is a hunky boy, but he loves bathing with you :3 something about it just makes him feel extremely euphoric 🥰 but he will cup your boobs the whole time lmfao (no matter what kind you have). That might also lead to him kissing your neck the whole time till both of you are in the mood 😶‍🌫️👀
4. Harvey
-Harvey at forth ?! HARVEY?! COME OOOON
-yes, I know. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute and affectionate with you ! This ranking is pretty close as all of the bachelors have their qualities that make them good partners 🥺 it’s just based on my own headcanons or assumptions about what they might be like
-ok so Harvey is a little anxious mess but LOVES to be a real gentleman when he’s in love
-I’m talking putting on his finest Jazz and dancing with you in your living room, slow dancing while just enjoying each other’s closeness 👀😍
-Harvey shows his affection mostly through everyday things. Like making you coffee in the morning or cleaning up for you. Not to mention peppering you when you’re sick as well as doing small gestures that show you that he cares and wants to make the effort for you
-Harvey LOVES to put your foreheads together while holding you close. Since he’s way taller than you, he has to crouch a little in order to make it work (it’s so cute omfg 😭😤🥰😍💀🫣🫨😫)
-forehead kisses too 😭👏🏻😫 he’s all about soft, sweet affection
-there are many headcanons about spicy Harvey and I get where this is coming from, but I do believe that his sweet, pure side is predominant. Like yes he will want to sleep with you, you’re a couple and he’s not asexual, so why wouldn’t he want to do that 🤷🏼‍♀️
-speaking of this, he loves to lay in bed with you in your post-coital state. Like of course he enjoys the deed, but what he enjoys even more is the after math that consists of laying together, skin to skin, just talking or laying there in silence and enjoying each other. It gives him the feeling of being one with you, of growing even closer than before 🥺
5. Sebastian
-Sebby can be a really cute guy once he lets his guard down, but I don’t think he is the most obvious in love even when he is very infatuated with you
-he just isn’t that kind of guy, you know?
-Sebastian loves to cuddle with you in bed, especially while playing video games. His room is his safe space and sharing that space with you while doing something he enjoys, it’s just perfect to him
-he will show you how much he likes you by taking you on small adventures despite being a homebody. He didn’t fix up that motorcycle for nothing. Just you and him outside, discovering new places. It’s something he doesn’t offer to just anyone
-in public, he’s very reserved and doesn’t feel comfortable showing his affection, but at home? He latches on you and won’t let go. Of course he needs his space every once in a while, but it’s not rare for him to try and crawl under your shirt with you just to feel your warmth (he’s very cold most of the time)
-he loves touching your tummy. Ok ok I know this one is controversial but he just loves it. When you’re a little soft and he can grab onto something soft and warm? Oh boy, he will….he will 👁️ he also loves kissing your abdomen. Again, don’t ask me, I have my reasons
-when it comes to intimacy, he surprisingly prefers giving over taking. I have a feeling he prefers non-penetrative sex more ? At least speaking of “traditional” straight sex. Again, don’t ask, I cannot explain. So I imagine when he’s in a relationship with an AFAB farmer, he will want to either eat them out or finger them senseless because it brings him pleasure. It’s very specific I know but it feels right🤷🏼‍♀️
6. Shane
-you all know by now that I have a mild obsession with this guy, but yeah…I gotta admit he isn’t cutting it in this ranking
-it’s not that he isn’t capable of giving a lot of love, but he has his barriers that keep him from showing his love freely
-he will get there eventually, but before that, he’s very…well…tense ? He has a hard time initiating romantic gestures or telling you nice things
-again it’s not because he doesn’t want to, it’s that he is in his own head too much that he cannot garner the courage to do so. You’re dating but he still suspects it’s all a tasteless joke on him
-in those moments when Shane beats his inner critics, he can be such a sweetheart omfg
-I’m speaking kissing you behind your ear, caressing your waist and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He isn’t very eloquent most of the time, but when the moment is right, he just knows what to say to you to make you feel loved
-Shane is the type of person to show his affection through mild bullying and joking around. He might be calling you a dwarf or giant (depending on your height difference) make fun of little things you do that he notices, but it’s never in bad taste. He always makes sure you know it’s just silly banter that usually ends in you two fighting playfully and then tumbling on top of each other, laughing and kissing 🥺🥰
-this man, this man loves when you sleep on his chest. On a lazy Sunday watching tv or just when he wakes up in the morning, noticing your head’s weight on him. It makes him feel useful, like he can protect you (let’s ignore that the farmer slays monsters as a side hustle, k). He will kiss your head ever so softly and whisper how much he loves you while doing it 😌
-if you want him to be the kind to hold your hand in public or kiss you, you’ve set your money on the wrong horse (rehab was supposed to be a fresh start), because he is not that kind of man, sorry 🤷🏼‍♀️ he will start to do it once he gets comfortable enough with you, but it’s not that much. PDA just isn’t in it with this guy 😤
-his spicy side? He has plenty spice, but when he’s in the mood for some romance, he likes it slow and sensual. It’s a bit out of character for him, but sometimes he just wants to enjoy your presence and the slow build up of excitement and arousal. Expect him to enjoy guided self-pleasure. Picture it like this: he sits behind you, taking your hand and guiding it through the process of what you’d do to yourself 🫣 while, again, whispering hot stuff in your ear (yeah my version of him is into whispering lmfao). That’s the good stuff 😫
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chthonic-cassandra · 1 month ago
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hello my friend! currently rereading dracula, as you know, and wondered if you have any recs for where to start with criticism about the novel? 🖤
This question makes me so happy! <3
I am dreadfully out of date on this, but I can certainly give you places to start; these are not all necessarily recommendations for criticism I like (there's precious little of that), but more introductions to classic criticism in the field.
The classics
The Norton Critical Edition of Dracula (edited by Nina Auerbach and David J. Skal), alongside the Cambridge Companion to Dracula, are both good introductions which collect representative examples of some of the most popular scholarly strains of thought on the novel. When someone asks me to recommend an edition of Dracula to start with, I always suggest the Norton.
Leonard Wolf (who was not Virginia Woolf's husband, but who was one of Anne Rice's college professors) was one of the most important voices in the critical reevaluation of Dracula which started in the 1970's. I often disagree with him (so much so that I once wrote a fic about how much I disagree with him), but his annotated edition of Dracula was my first. His important works are A Dream of Dracula and Dracula: A Connoisseur's Guide. He (along with Radu Florescu and Raymond McNally) was an important early proponent of the "Dracula is Vlad Tepes" theory, which was hotly opposed by...
Elizabeth Miller, ornery grand dame of Dracula criticism. She is extremely invested in being the most reasonable and the least prone to flights of fancy of all the critics, which means she does often say useful things, but she's also a little boring. She's best known for Dracula: Sense and Nonsense, but it's more a litany of complaints than actually analysis. Her books in general have useful primary source stuff.
Once you get into analysis of Dracula reception and adaptions, then I can with a full heart recommend David J. Skal's Hollywood Gothic, full of delightful trivia, which was truly Skal's strength.
Recommendations I more stand by:
Donald Glover's Vampires, Mummies, and Liberals: Bram Stoker and the Politics of Popular Fiction is one of the very few works of Dracula criticism that I thought actually dealt in any kind of thoughtful way with the racial politics of the book.
Christy Desmet's essay on Ophelia, Ellen Terry, and Dracula, collected in Shakespearean Gothic, was excellent and I still think about it; the whole collection is very much worth reading.
Loved Ann-Louise Kibbie's Transfusion: Blood and Sympathy in the Nineteenth Century Literary Imagination, which isn't all about Dracula but obviously deals substantially with it.
As a teenager I had a lot of fun reading the uploaded issues of The Journal of Dracula Studies and sometimes fantasized about submitting something to them while concealing my age/lack of higher education to see what happened (I never did). I remember feeling very vindicated by Katharina Mewald's "The Emancipation of Mina?" but don't know how it would hold up now. I haven't kept up with the most recent issues (perhaps I will start!) but at a glance there seem to be some interesting things.
ETA forgot about Allison Case's Plotting Women: Gender and Narration in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Novel! Good Mina material, comparing her with Marian in Woman in White.
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zepskies · 5 months ago
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The Boys S4: Is it just me or...
Okay, anyone who knows me knows I love this show. And I don't mean to be overly critical, but...there's something missing for me in season 4. 🤔
Episode 4 brought me back in a bit more this week, but I have thoughts and just wanted to get them out. Which of course you don't have to agree with, if you so choose to dive below the cut. 😂
So here we go! Highlights and lowlights (and **spoilers**): ⤵️
Sorry in advance for my slightly stream of conscious-style thought process.
Lowlights (so far):
Kimiko x Frenchie: Violently pushing down something you built up for 2.75 seasons? Because "being more than that/family" can also be romantic? Why do you hate the fans, Kripke? 😂
The political "satire" is getting a bit old for me. A lot of the same jokes over and over. However, the problem of taking out Victoria Neuman is a very intriguing conundrum (and Bob Singer sweating over it while trying to keep supes out of the military/law enforcement is keeping me hooked).
THAT Rob scene: lmfao come on now. This was for gross shock value and nothing else. Even the exploding dick and Love Sausage in S3 served a narrative purpose. (But I enjoyed the footnote commentary while watching it on Prime: Rob B. apparently wants to remind everyone that he's a Shakespearean-trained actor. 🤣) I’m actually more disappointed that he didn’t have a more meaningful role in the show, because he really is a fantastic actor and I was looking forward to seeing what his character would bring. (Not that lmao.)
Overall, the season just feels...emptier than seasons 1-3? Maybe that has to do with the lack of Soldier Boy's gravitas as a new antagonist, and connecting the entire narrative and various conflicts of the season -- all while shedding light on the grisly past of Payback, Grace Mallory, and Stan Edgar. Stormfront also brought that ante up in season 2 in a similar way, all while shedding light on Vought's sordid history with the creation of Compound V.
We're missing the layers here in season 4. Now, this could just be because we haven't seen the full season yet as well, but that's what I see so far.
I think it also has to do with the odd dynamic the boys side is in right now. With Butcher on the fringe of the group, and the others splintered off on their own side plots, it feels like the supes' side of things are more...for lack of a better term, "unified" in the narrative.
Which I realize is probably to reverse parallel the state of each side in season 3. But it just feels "off" to me somehow, since we're supposed to be just as invested in the boys side lol.
Highlights:
Butcher and Ryan: Butcher's doing his best there now, and it soothes my heart.
Ryan's slowly seeing the consequences of his choice to join Homelander. In fact, I'm wondering where Ryan is in episode 4. Hiding in his room?
The Khan Worm that appears to be inside Butcher is both frightening and intriguing. I wonder if this is the key to saving his life? Or just another lovely side effect of taking V24 long term. 🐛
JDM (Joe) and Butcher: All their scenes were golden. And that subtle John Winchester reference? Being willing to train up his son to be a killer? Being able to grieve at his son's funeral, knowing he "saved the world?" *Chef's kiss* 🤌🏽
(And if Butcher or Joe end up being the one to break Soldier Boy out of his cryo coffin, my fangirl heart will freak TF out. 🤣)
The way that Homelander is noticing his age is fucking hilarious. Bet you wish you had that life longevity from your father/sperm donor, dont'cha? 😂
But also the way Homelander "confronted" his past in E4 had some truly WTF/Holy Shit™️ moments, in a good way. As in, I'm once again afraid of this unhinged psychopath--kind of way. 😅
A-Train continuing to struggle internally with the place he's fought so hard to keep in the Seven, versus recognizing the evil around him, his own complicity, wanting forgiveness from Hughie, and wanting a true connection with others (namely his family).
It's interesting that Hughie's mom is being brought back in at this time. And even MORE interesting that she seems to be the one who gave her ex-husband Compound V. Her story of why she left her family seemed so normal that I actually got a little suspicious of her. But now, even more so. 🤨
M.M. doing his fucking best. (Except for the way he suddenly had a change of heart about Butcher in E4. Not sure about that one.)
Tilda effing Swinton voicing Ambrosius. PLEASE. My Queen. 😭🤣🤣
I actually had more lowlights before I watched episode 4. There were some really interesting moments that literally had me gasping in shock (this time in a good way), more so than in the first 3 episodes. However, I still think seasons 1-3 were stronger from the get-go.
But even with my lingering reservations, now I'm actually more so looking forward to getting into the meat of the season in this second-half coming up. 👏🏽
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mischieffae · 2 months ago
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Hi,
could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where Hannibal is Will‘s substitute as an FBI teacher as long as Will is in prison and he falls in love with one of the students? She is one of the best in her class and he also sees she is attracted to him, so he asks her to stay after class?
The Drowning
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x female reader
Details: smut, (reader mid 20's), teacher/student, foreplay, mentions of gore
Minors DNI, 18+
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Flashes of the overhead's images on the wall made your eyes squint slightly from the brightness, each photo depicting different scenarios of the surrounding area's murder sprees. You're used to seeing such explicit imagery, though sometimes an image or two will make your skin crawl with discomfort. But you haven't been called the best of your class for nothing, always rising to the top and taking on the challenge with no complaint. The other FBI students were slightly jealous of your natural academic mind, but they also looked up to you for guidance on their own performances.
And Hannibal took note of this.
It was no secret to yourself that you have felt infatuation for the new professor, already knowing of him since he was your former teacher's psychiatrist. You've heard nothing but great things, some even of gossips of how entrancing he was, like a Greek God that stalked the school's concrete walls. It was hard NOT to feel some type of attraction to him. And for the other student's, they had felt the same way.
He was a masterpiece.
But little did you know, that the masterpiece before you thought of the same when it came to you. Which if you were to find out, thought it was absolutely ridiculous. You, of all people, a meek, tired little thing who had an obsession with black coffee to keep you going through the day. To him however, this was a breath of fresh air, and one he would gladly inhale for the rest of his days.
"Now, can anyone tell me why the killer decided to have such a intricate display of the victim's body? Do we have any idea of what the killer was inspired by?"
Hannibal's eyes trace the crowded room with a raised brow, silence filling the air and the occasional tap of a nervous pencil. You sighed to yourself quietly, knowing that if no one blurted out the answer, it was most likely going to fall upon your shoulders. Your hand then raises upward embarrassingly, some eyes rolling because of course the best in the class knew the answer.
How this excited Hannibal.
"Perhaps the killer was inspired by Shakespeare's Macbeth, the drowning of Ophelia? It could be indicated by the water lilies that surround her body, a common flower connected to water and innocence. The opening of her chest could also indicate that she died of a broken heart, plus she is under a willow tree, where the famous Ophelia fell."
More silence filled the air, a cough from someone sounding before Hannibal gave a smile of excitement. "Excellent, precisely. The killer was obviously inspired by the famous Poet, which seems to also be the case when it comes to any serial killer really. Artistry, is the main innovation for their motives."
Your eyes connect for what seems like an eternity, small breaths escaping your parting lips with the harsh fluttering of your beating heart.
Were you, the Ophelia, about to fall into darkness?
The ringing of the bell caused you to jolt in surprise, the rustling of bags and paperwork filling the room as everyone began to depart to their next field. You couldn't stop the slight trembling of your fingers as you pull your things together, the last student's footstep leaving the room before you hear a familiar voice.
"Not you, stay for a moment please."
You halt in place before lifting your gaze towards him, his lithe body stalking with purpose behind his mahogany desk.
"You did very well today, and color me surprised on your Shakespearean knowledge. Not a lot of FBI workers have the comprehension of his complex writings."
A small swallow forms, your cheeks flushing a bright shade of crimson before moving your gaze downward to your fingers. Your nails are obscenely short from your nervous nail biting habit, but it makes it easy to pull a trigger.
"I do a lot of reading in my spare time, Professor Lecter. Shakespeare has always fascinated me, even as a little girl."
His delicate hand lifts with a small chuckle escaping his soft lips, which you did not intend to stare at this long. It's funny, if there was a black shroud upon his frame, he would almost resemble the Grim Reaper himself.
Shouldn't that frighten you?
"Please, call me Hannibal. I am only filling in Will's time for a couple of months, and would rather not fully take on his title."
A smile forms on your face before biting your bottom lip, nodding in agreement before you begin to collect more of your paperwork into your bag.
"Well, Hannibal. You have been doing very well in his stead. He might have some competition when he gets back."
Was that a tease that spilled from your lips? Gods, it came out so naturally that you didn't even notice at first. But once he starts to move slowly towards your frame is when you began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"And what kind of competition would that be?"
If you just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn't have this overwhelming desirable feeling to hide yourself in the darkest corner imaginable. But alas, this wasn't the first time your mouth got you in trouble. He's towering over you now, your rear hitting the back of your desk with a slight creak of metal against floor.
"Well I mean, -...um...your teaching methods..."
His head cocked to the side with a sly, devilish grin, those darkening orbs in his skull drawing to gaze upon your slightly chapped lips.
"You believe my teaching methods are superior to Will Graham's?"
A small meek nod forms, your fingers reaching behind you to grasp the desk's wood tightly with white knuckles. He has waited so long for this moment, to ensnare the little rabbit who always just seemed a hand's touch away. A satisfied smirk trails on his gaunt face, for he knows he has finally caught you, the perfect subject to twist and form into his own twisted masterpiece.
"Shall we test that theory?"
He waits patiently while moving a soft hand to caress the side of your jawline, your eyes fluttering from the gentle gesture before meeting his gaze with a deep breath.
"......Yes...."
You have fallen, dear Ophelia.
The sudden feeling of his lips against your own made you gasp in fever, his other hand moves to cup both of your cheeks for guidance. Flesh kneaded against your own in a steady rhythm. He's taking your time with you, not to scare off the poor little rabbit too fast. You're hanging upon the desk for dear life, brows knitting together in concentration of his lead, a waltz of lust that you haven't experienced before in your lifetime.
It was then that he quickens the pace, pushing himself harder into your trembling frame while diving his skilled tongue past your opening mouth. You moan wantonly then, a small growl of his own forming in unison as he moves to pull upon your ponytail with control. It's as if you are melting under his touch, his experience in the art of seduction almost too much for you to bear.
Hannibal release then, breathing heavily upon your jawline before giving chaste kisses and slight bites with teeth, his calloused hands moving to cup upon your clothed breasts in a firm movement. It almost startles you, a shocking gasp escaping before he moves his mouth to assailant yours once again. You don't remember raising your hands to grasp his shoulders, but when you can feel the soft expensive silk under your fingertips, it brings you back to reality.
You are kissing your Professor, and Hannibal of all people.
He pulls away to begin to unbutton your uniform attire, a white button up shirt you thrifted not too long ago. Each movement is calculated, like a pianist wanting to get the perfect note each time.
"Are you ready for your lesson, my dear?"
His voice is hoarse from his own arousal, your eyes widening in surprise from his words. Was he seriously going to try to teach you something, while doing THIS type of behavior? It made your heart flutter wildly in your caged chest, it rising and falling before he reveals your cotton bra.
"What-...what kind of lesson, Hannibal?"
Oh how the devil smirks, his eyes trailing up to meet your own doe ones while holding your tender bust in his hands.
"Recite for me....the Death of Ophelia..."
It was then that you felt some type of fear hit your entire being, like a deer that had stumbled upon thorn bramble and unable to escape. Your breathing intensifies as you stare upon him with parted lips, his hands continuing their kneading while patiently waiting for you to begin. He was TOYING with you, and of course your stubborn brain wouldn't allow that to happen.
You've been through far too much to have this man steal your tongue.
" -....W-When down her weedy trophies....and herself...." You begin with a meek tone, his skillful fingers moving to remove the article of clothing in one swift movement. You can't hold back a loud whimper from the sudden feeling of chill air licking your breasts, his mouth moving to envelope around a hardening bud for protection.
"Her -....c-clothes spread wide... and mermaid like... awhile they bore her up..."
Hannibal praises you with a muffled hum of approval, tongue sliding effortlessly around your sensitive bud and giving a lewd suckle. His other hand moves to dive slowly, carefully, down between your legs, which you open obediently with a roll of your head.
"Which time she chanted snatches-....o-of old tunes..."
After that singular word he dove his hand down your work trousers to rub against your clothed sex, your panties already beginning to soak under his touch as you moan heatedly from the act. He has you in his complete control, and every circular motion of his finger combined with the flicking on his tongue on your breast causes your stomach to tighten and coil with pure arousal.
Hannibal pauses for a moment, his own hair a bit disheveled and falling across his sunken eyes while gazing upward at you. He wants you to continue your rehearsal, and will not proceed his lewd actions until you do. With a huff, you move your hands to hold onto the back of his head tightly, hips subconsciously rolling into his hand as you begin once again in a hoarse tone.
"As one incapable of her own d-distress...or l-like a creature....ah-...native and indued..."
He's absolutely purring now with delight, his mouth retreating from your sensitive nipple to have both hands quickly thrust your pants downward in a harsh movement. It caused you to jump slightly, his usual professional demeanor now replaced by pure hungry desire. Like a wolf that has been starved, finally able to feast on what he has been dreaming most nights alone in his bed.
"Unto that e-element...but not long it could not be..."
You're watching him slither down your frame like a viper, his eyes locked upon you as if you were about to dissipate and never return. But you knew, deep down in your heart, there was no going back. And you did not want to. No, you belonged here, your hand outstretching to brush a fallen lock behind his ear. He takes this gesture with a tilt of his head towards your touch, his hungry mouth opening to breathe wantonly against your thigh with a dash of tongue.
"Till that h-her garments... h-heavy with their drink...."
Hannibal removes your panties while staring into your soul with each word that escapes your lips, his own mouth moving to ghost along the wetting of your folds in a delicious torture. It is mentally noted that you must finish the prose, before getting your ultimate reward. Your blunt nails move to grasp the desk's sides while bending your back slightly in the sitting position for more access, a long sigh escaping your lips while you gaze down before him.
A God....upon his knees....
"Pull'd the poor w-wretch from her melodious lay....to muddy death..."
You were gone before it even began, the sudden wet heat diving into your wanton core causing a strangled cry to escape you. Tight tremors from each sinful lick upon your folds made the desk move slightly in rhythm, a starved growl emitting from his lips that vibrated upon you. More, you needed more, a small series of babbles leaving you as you tilted your head backward in pure ecstasy. Of course he was this skilled with a tongue, a finger moving to rub along your swollen bud in time with his flesh diving inward inside a nectar crevice. You can hear the lewd actions echo in the room around you, another one of his hands moving to grasp your thigh in a tight vice grip, the other fingers moving to spread you open like the most desired prize he has won in his lifetime.
You couldn't think, couldn't fully register what was happening for it was all too much to feel, your toes curling in your shoes as he dove two fingers inside you with purpose.
"H-Hannbial -.... ahn God..."
He chuckled against your folds before lifting his head towards your gaze, slicked with your essence of your coupling in the most beautiful of ways.
"There is no God here, my love..."
And with that, he plunged into you with a faster rhythm, your thighs convulsing from the intensity as he lavished your budding flower. There was only so more you could take, a hand moving to grip his lose locks tightly enough to cause a groan from his lips.
"I-I can't...I'm...."
"Come on me....."
His deep hoarse voice against your throbbing cunt was enough to send you over the edge, your back arching in the most angelic way while you spill your essence on his fingers and face. He's ravenous over it, taking it all in as if he were drunk on it. And when he pulls away and your body shivers from the lack of contact, he can only gaze into your eyes with pools of black that are his own.
His mask had cracked, revealing what truly laid there all this time.
The monster, is finally revealing himself.
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