#immediately thought oh danny would definitely say this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparrowofthedawnsworld · 4 months

Text

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

@tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @ofburningskies

@sunandthemoontwinflames @juliensbakery

@jakesguitarsolo @gretavanfreaky

@ageofbarbarians @gretavanfleetposts

@gvfpal @theweightofjake @alwaysonthemend

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl @jakes-eyebrows

@watchingovergvff @streamingcolors-gvf

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @writingcold

@starcatcher-jake @sarakay-gvf @groovyvanfleet

@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches

244 notes · View notes

britcision · 10 months

Text

Okay so I’m well aware that this is probably my own fault, but a lot of people seem to have gotten the idea that Bruce is in any way important to this story

This is not a story about Batman

This is a story about the many and varied disaster gays he has trained to commit bigger and more epic disasters than any other gay in history

So let’s fix it and get back to the second most important thing in the story! Timker (and bonus Connor)

——————

Field Trips Without Permission Slips part 1

Tucker was still firmly in his happy bubble, floating along after Tim Drake-Wayne even as they left the Bat Cave.

Connor, Kon, Superboy, he’d be there soon. Tucker wanted to make a good impression; this was Tim’s boyfriend, Tucker really wanted the guy to like him.

That way they could all be friends, and he wouldn’t worry if Tucker and Tim hung out, and talked tech, and maybe got to have a hackathon…

Because of course, even notorious ladies’ man Too Fine Foley would never make a move on a taken man. That’d just be low.

He was just trying to work out what to say when Tim got a buzz on his phone. The excitement dropped off the younger man’s face in an instant, his expression immediately shifting to worry and determination.

“Something’s come up,” he said tersely, and Tucker frowned, wondering if he was about to hear about a second rogue attack in almost as many days.

Gotham… Gotham was kinda exhausting. No offence, obviously, even he could feel the Curse lingering on the back of his tongue.

But trying to keep this city safe was like bailing a sinking boat with a sieve. No wonder they needed the best of the best.

“How can I help?” Was all he offered, trying to make himself look ready and eager.

Tim’s eyes widened as he looked up, like he was only just remembering that Tucker was actually even there at all. That yeah, he definitely could help.

Actually, it turned out he was their subject matter expert when Tim explained the problem.

“Superman just told B he can’t hear Jason’s heart anymore. I don’t suppose there’s a reason you’d know of?” He asked hopefully, and Tucker’s jaw clicked shut.

Because… yeah, he could guess exactly why Jason was now out of range of super hearing. But the bats weren’t cleared to know about Jason’s halfa nature yet, and Tucker was pretty sure Jason couldn’t transform.

It’d be a wild time for him to give it a first try if Superman was listening in. He’d have to warn Danny and Jason, though that might have to wait if they’d… gone… to the Ghost Zone.

And yeah, okay, Tucker maybe shoulda thought of that first, but in his defence Danny died on a regular basis and occasionally just to show off.

Shoulders sagging as he relaxed, Tucker blew out a long breath and grinned at Tim, relief making him lax. And yeah, sure, he didn’t know why they’d gone, but he could bullshit something if they asked.

“Oh, yeah actually… they’re probably in the Ghost Zone,” he explained with a slight shrug, because really? It wasn’t a big deal.

Some of the tension leached out of Tim’s shoulders with the presence of an immediate answer.

“The Ghost Zone? That’s the Infinite Realms, right?” Tim asked and Tucker nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

It was always nice to be the guy with all the answers, but having all the answers for someone like Tim Drake-Wayne? Yeah, that felt extra good.

“Yeah, same place. It’s mostly only the Ancients that call it the Infinite Realms, and Danny and Jason probably won’t bother them.”

Not unless Clockwork chose to make another visit, but that would be an Ancient going to bother Danny and Jason.

Tim nodded thoughtfully, making some quick notes on his phone.

“Any idea why, or how long they’ll be? Bruce has probably convinced himself Jason’s dead again by now,” he added dryly, sounding neither impressed nor concerned.

Well, maybe a little concerned. Tucker had kinda gotten the stage door tickets to Batman’s opinion of Danny.

Tucker shrugged again, thinking back quickly over what Jason had told him he’d told his family. He was gonna make himself a cheatsheet if (hope of hopes) hanging out with Tim became a regular thing.

Frostbite? Yeah, they probably mentioned Frostbite. No need to mention he was an Ancient, the yeti certainly never brought it up.

“They’re probably going to see Danny’s doctor. Check Jason’s ecto contamination, see how Danny’s doing away from his haunt; that’s Amity Park,” he added as Tim’s brows furrowed momentarily. “Technically halfas don’t need need one, but Danny claimed it so we dunno what leaving will do to him.”

Which made it sound way more dramatic than it actually was; even full ghosts could leave their haunt if they wanted to. Not all of them even kept haunts in the Zone.

They’d asked last year, before Danny finally took the plunge (and yeah maybe coming out of puberty was why he’d waited a couple extra years - not that he’d gotten the promised Fenton Growth Spurt).

Frostbite had just asked if they even knew where Ember’s haunt was.

News to Tucker and the gang that she’d even had one, with how much she wanted to go on tour.

Danny’s haunt would always be his place of power, but with the power Danny wielded? He never needed it anymore. Tucker was pretty sure that when he actually became king the whole Ghost Zone was gonna be Danny’s haunt.

Not cuz anyone had explicitly said so. Just interpreting a lot of the flowery bullshit around Pariah. And no one had told him no yet either.

Tim just nodded, typing a moment more before sending off a quick reply to Bruce.

He did feel a little bad tattling on Danny and Jason like that. If they’d wanted anyone to know where they were going, they coulda just said.

But they also probably hadn’t known Superman would be listening, or notice Jason’s heart disappearing. Really Tucker was doing everyone a favour; making sure no one came back to Batman in a panic attack.

He just hoped Jason would see it the same way.

And then the single hottest person Tucker had ever seen in his entire life popped his head around the door, perfectly windswept black curls pushed back with one hand.

A smile of perfectly white, perfectly even teeth flashed as gorgeous blue eyes like the heart of the ocean landed on him and Tim.

On Tim.

Tim was smiling back even before the other entered the room.

Tim’s boyfriend.

Tucker raised Ida to cover his face without even thinking, cheeks burning and really really really hoping neither white boy knew enough about dark skin to tell.

Tim’s brother Duke was Black too.

Tucker was going to fucking die.

He could not go weak kneed at just the sight of Tim’s boyfriend!

He was only vaguely aware when the walking Adonis spoke, striding quickly into the room.

“Hey, any reason I should be worried that Jason and Danny just disappeared from Gotham’s airspace?”

Ancients even his voice was perfect, rich and smooth like dark chocolate, with just a little bass that made Tucker’s heart flutter. If that voice said his name Tucker was going to fucking die.

Tucker strangled most of the whimper in his throat because he was a fucking adult goddamn it. Jumped and almost smacked himself in the face when Tim called his name from right next to him.

Loudly.

Like he’d said it a couple times already.

And the World’s Hottest Man was looking at him too, the absolute cutest worried little frown marring his perfect brows, and oh ancients just the littlest pout on soft, full lips…

Yeah, no, someone get the headstone, Tucker would just bury himself out back.

———————

Note: I’m genuinely still turning over which name our dear Superboy Prime is going by as his regular name, since it’s… about 1000% going to depend on his relationship with Clark

I cannot fucking imagine anyone but Clark gave Kon El his Kryptonian name. Just. No fucking way. (Kara could but then we’re back to Too Many Characters and tbh she has more tact than that)

So their relationship has to be good enough that Clark offered this very personal piece of himself, and Connor’s accepted it

But Connor is the name his first friends gave him

And his civilian name, so it’s not like he can whole hog the switch

Atm the Bats call him Kon in uniform as the world’s shittiest cover but we’re getting his POV next chapter and I need to know what he calls himself, so… poll!

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara a @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife e @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer writer @chaoticmistake e @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west t @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon on @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 1 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan n @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 7 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

For anyone wondering, the reason the tag list looks like it’s having seizures is my phone has decided that letting me scroll around is far too convenient and it’s just going to randomly jump around if I try and move the cursor

You cannot tag a bitch on tumblr mobile without scrolling to the end of their name and selecting them on the search

If you are not at the end it will autocomplete what’s left and thus *gestures vaguely* happy WIP Wednesday

#dp x dc #danny fenton dead and loving it #wip wednesday #chapter 16 #ghost zone ghost zone ghost zone #danny phantom #Dead on main ship #danny x jason #tucker quick be less gay you’re drooling on ida #Ever see someone so hot your brain just short circuits #Tucker did #Tim gets it tho

265 notes · View notes

leclerced · 3 months

Note

morning?? afternoon?? idk. craving sweet domesticity with max. something about having his kid, and bringing them to the paddock so they can watch their dad do what he does best, win races. i think he’d pick her up, and immediately ditch his media duties because, look at his kid!! She has a little Red Bull hat on and she has his eyes and hhh, Makes max want another one. breeding go brr

🩰

this is so cute !!

thinking ab his wife surprising him one race weekend and he sees them arrive during an interview and he just excuses himself immediately like, “oh sorry i’ve gotta go." and rushes to greet them without explaining anything. the camera pans to follow him bc they’re wondering why he just walked away and are met with the heartwarming sight of max lifting his daughter into the air before hugging her close.

max tells her he’s so happy they came to see him, that he thought since her first year of preschool is starting that week that they couldn't make it, and she teases him, “well i’d rather be at home but this little munchkin wouldn’t settle for watching daddy on tv this time. can’t say no to her, y’know?” and is just staring at their kid w the most adoring look in her eyes. he knows there's nowhere she'd rather be than anywhere with him, preferably at home in bed, so laughs at her teasing before following her gaze n staring into his daughters eyes while she shoves a toy at him and he totally gets it. he can't seem to tell her no either, even when she's tangling her doll in his hair while trying to make it balance on his head. gives his wife a lil kiss before taking her hand in his free one and leading her to his garage. he's got their daughter on his hip and probably takes her to see danny and charles when she spots them across the paddock and wants to say hi, show them the toy she brought or ask her mom for candy, then immediately gives it away.

he skips all his media duties and him and wifey sits on the garage floor with their kid playing with her toys, max occasionally being pulled away for his work but he always ends up back with them. sm drivers and people come visit to the redbull garage just to see her, giving her hugs and high fives. max definitely ends up asking danny or charles to watch her for a bit while he drags wife away to his driver's room to get started on baby number two!!

also thinking about charles having a kid around the same time so they grow up together. they’d cause SO much trouble and would sneak off together, not intentionally just kids wandering around y’know, and their parents are searching everywhere for them only to find them somewhere they’d never expect, like in the back of the mercedes garage with toto, napping in some chairs using merc jackets as blankets.

#ask #🩰 anon #mv1

63 notes · View notes

disillusioneddanny · 1 year

Text

Eloped in Space

Parts:

One

Two

Three

Four

Danny glanced at his husband who just gave him that annoyed, displeased look. “Obviously, he’s not very happy about that,” Danny said with a grin before he looked back at his new step children. “Ya see, after being around for as long as I have, things such as life and death don’t matter as much. Moonlight here doesn’t fully understand that. He is still in that phase in his mortality where he believes that all life is sacred regardless of what he has done.”

“So… since you’re my new step dad, would you be mad at me if I killed the Joker?” Jason asked slowly, it was worth a shot at least.

Danny shrugged. “I don’t see why I would be. It’s very healthy for murder victims to avenge their murders,” Danny said with a shrug. “If I had been murdered when I died, I would have wanted to avenge my death as well.”

“So… I can?” Jason clarified.

“Sure. I’ll help you if you want,” Danny offered, a happy smile on his face. This would be perfect! Bruce had been so worried that Jason would be the one to be less likely to accept Danny had his new step father! This would be a great way to bond with his new stepson.

“Oh my god, you’re the best dad ever,” Jason exclaimed. He looked at Bruce and gave him the most withering, annoyed look he could. “That’s the kind of attitude a father should have when their murdered son wants to avenge their murder.”

“Shut it, Jason,” Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

“I am just saying life and death really does not mean that much. Besides, once Joker is in my realm, he is subject to whatever I would like to do to him,” Danny said with a wave of his hand.

Jason grinned and looked at his siblings. “I dunno about you guys but I approve,” he said and fell onto a couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave his new step father an appraising look.

“A father who approves of murder? I think that I am okay with this new change,” Damian stated before he looked Danny up and down. “I will not call you dad.”

Danny grinned. “What do you want to call me then?”

Damian let out a hum as he thought about this. He was more than okay with his father getting married and by the display of power that this Danny has shown, he was more than worthy of his father’s time. Not only that but Danny was more than okay with murder if it proved to be necessary. Not only that but he was a king of an entire realm and loved his father. He saw no true issue with this union. “Step-Father,” he decided.

Danny gave the youngest Wayne an excited smile. “I’ll take it!” He looked at Bruce and took his hands in his own. “See my sweet Cassiopeia, you were so worried about Damian and Jason’s approval and they’re the first ones who are okay with us being together!”

The batman just gave his husband a disapproving look. “Because you just gave them both the go ahead for murder, of course they’ll like you,” he said in annoyance. Danny just let out a giggle and kissed his husband softly.

“It will only be in moderation, right boys?” He asked, glancing at the two brothers. Jason and Damian both gave their father twin innocent smiles as they nodded their heads.

“Of course, Father, in moderation,” Damian said smoothly.

“If Dad gives us the go ahead first, I don’t see a problem,” Jason said crossing his arms. At this, Bruce let out a huff. Jason rarely called him Dad and usually only when he was upset or in need of comfort. Danny immediately got the dad name. He wasn’t jealous, definitely not.

Dick let out a hum and took a seat next to Tim and looked at his other siblings and their de-facto siblings, Barb and Steph. “What do you guys think?”

Cass smiled. “Bruce is happy. New Dad is nice,” she said, shrugging her shoulders before she looked at Danny. “Dad?”

“Dad,” Danny agreed, a happy smile on his face.

“I mean, Cass is right. Bruce is happier than I’ve ever seen him and I bet Danny can keep him on his toes,” Tim stated, giving Danny a look.

“I’m right here,” Bruce grumbled. Danny shushed his husband and looked at the siblings.

“Do I pass?” He asked. Duke, Tim, Dick, and Barb all looked at one another before they shrugged.

“Dad,” they all stated happily.

“Will you be joining us on patrols?” Damian questioned, giving the man a hopeful look.

Danny simply shook his head. “No, I’m just going to be Bruce’s happy little housewife. I’ll be here with Alfie, bonding and doing my own work. If any of you need me, you’ll be able to get a hold of me at any time. I’m more than happy to help but the vigilante thing isn’t my thing anymore.”

“What a shame,” Damian said with a tch. Danny just shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and kissed him again.

“Love you,” he murmured, nibbling at Bruce’s bottom lip softly. Bruce just smiled.

“Love you too,” he said in response, causing all of the siblings to stare in surprise. Bruce? Emotionally vulnerable? He could never.

Read part six here

@mynameisnotlaura @neverlandingbird @angelheartgamer @connorsbonez @quietlyscared @kgne-k @namichanth @magificence12 @alinmenttreasure @phantomskeep @themirrorghost @dragonmoon2995 @numbuh-7-knd @blacksea21090 @blankliferain @avenInfear @rentatsunagi @bytheoldwillowtree @michikoy-yuki @aro-acedumbass @legowerewolf @justwannaseesomebrozawa @starscreamlover @undead-essence @skulld3mort-1fan @random-shit-writing @yinari-uchiha @dragongoblet @lesling123 @ascetic-orange @pastalavistamf @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @drowningroane @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @daemonlogical @jogjosmowwdkfs @markus209 @fox-sama97 @that-one-goblin @immakittybear @the-legal-shipper @blackstar-gazer @spoopyspoony @mj-arts-n-stuff @cloudminder

468 notes · View notes

lesbicosmos · 3 months

Text

rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight

spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)

ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media

joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?

on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice

ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe

joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here

tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure

then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond

ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room

hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?

THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much

ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner

this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:

hardy: this job, it does it to you

ellie: well, not to us

ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her

joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?

hardy: certain.

joe: good :)

joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.

now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits

hardy: you bloody liar

joe: ive said nothing

hardy: and yet-

joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.

ep5 - brian asks ellie out

ellie: sorry, im married

brian: and thats an issue is it?

ellie: happily married, brian

brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?

ellie: i am.

THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE

ep6 - jack's wake

ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away

ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives

ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone

joe: when you say everyone...

ellie: well, nearly everyone

this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.

ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station

ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?

just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.

#in conclusion ellie miller needs a hug and im more than willing to give her one #this is why i love rewatching things almost immediately after i watch them for the first time #you notice all the subtleties you didn't notice the first time and it lets you rly appreciate the cleverness of the writing and acting #broadchurch #broadchurch s1 #ellie miller #joe miller #alec hardy #olivia colman #david tennant #i love rambling about decade-old tv shows as though they've only just come out <333

59 notes · View notes

camels-pen · 2 years

Text

Hey, you guys know the headcanon that Jason still has an autopsy scar?

Consider a moment in a dp dc crossover where Danny was vivisected by someone and has his own Y scar and the batfam, or at least Jason, know at this point that he's a halfa.

Ignoring the angst part, I'd like to imagine Danny seeing Jason's scar for the first time and eventually working up the nerve to ask about it. Jason says it's not a pleasant reminder (that he's died before) and would rather not talk about it. This leads into Danny accidentally hinting at having the same scar on himself (from the vivisection) and Jason just tells him he doesn't need to explain, that Jason gets it and if Danny wants to talk about it/talk about the feelings regarding it, Jason will always lend an ear, no problem.

And Danny is overwhelmed because he never had anyone to talk about it with before; he didn't want to worry his friends/make them feel bad for taking so long to rescue him and Jason speaks bluntly like, all the time, so if he says he'll always lend an ear and it's no problem? Danny just straight up starts bawling.

So they have their little bonding moment and Danny promises to talk with Jason about it eventually. And he does! He absolutely does. There are vague phone calls and overall lots of talk about feelings in the moment. Jason doesn't entirely relate with Danny's feelings sometimes, but he chalks it up to them being different people, Danny being half-ghost, not actually knowing how Danny died, etc etc

(Other times Jason can relate far far too well. Sometimes he relates so much he has to ask Danny to give him time to prevent or manage a panic attack. Sometimes he has to ask for a topic change or to cut the call short, even on his best days. It's frustrating.)

One hot summer day, the batfam decide to have a pool day and they invite Danny to come hang out.

Danny shows up, realizes pool day means going to the pool in their backyard, and has a grand old time. None of the batfam mention his scar, assuming it's like Jason's, and he doesn't mention their scars either.

It's snack time, everybody's got watermelon slices curtosy of Alfred and Danny and Jason are lounging by the pool.

Everything's great.

Someone mentions how Danny is kinda like a mini-Jason because they're both slouched against their chairs and eating in massive bites and spitting their watermelon seeds into the fire pit nearby.

Jason flips them off and Danny says "thanks, it's the vivisection scar"

And everyone goes silent.

Then they're all yelling, "THE WHAT?!"

Cue the batfam realizing very quickly that despite being pretty good at communication sometimes, they definitely dropped the ball here.

"Kid- Danny." Jason lowered his tone, something a bit more similar to the voice he used for traumatized kids. "You were vivisected?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. So were you." He jabbed a thumb towards Jason's chest. "That's how you got that scar."

"This is my autopsy scar."

Danny blinked. "Oh." He blinked again, harder this time. He took in a shaky breath. "So, all that stuff you said before was a lie?"

Jason baulked. "No! No, absolutely not. All of it was true, I just thought..."

"You thought it was about my death?"

Jason nodded. "Danny, if I knew, I would've told you exactly what this scar was from immediately. I promise this wasn't a bat thing."

Danny took several deep breaths. "Okay.... Okay."

And then uhhh, big talk with lots of feelings and Danny ends up being given a very nice hug from Jason and becomes trapped in his arms/lap for a while like a teddy bear.

As he's falling asleep, Danny mentions having gotten his scar almost six months ago and Jason goes a little feral because he knows that Danny's been dead for well over a year and goddamnit he thought the vivisection was what caused Danny to become a halfa. But now that all the emotions have been dealt with and Danny's nearly asleep, he's reminded of the person who gave Danny his scar rising to the top of his hit list. Or beat-within-an-inch-of-their-life list, if he has to play by bat rules.

When he side eyed Bruce and saw his thunderous gaze with a cracked glass of lemonade in his hand, however, Jason thought he might have more leeway than usual.

#DPxDC #dp dc crossover #danny fenton #jason todd #nemotime #this started out as an idea for a crackfic #with miscommunication and Danny scaring the batfam shitless about the vivisection thing #and now it is angst #watermelon inaccuracies #i dont know shit about watermelons or their seeds #idk if its safe to spit the seeds in a firepit so uhhh do your research kids #long post #i love how i started this post with 'ignoring the angst stuff...' *proceeds to write angst stuff*

2K notes · View notes

lukabitch · 1 year

Note

Hello there my friendo! Apparently since you liked one of my requests (wesker calling his so masc pet names lol) I am HERE ONCE AGAIN!! Again no pressure to write this, I just understand writers block so if you need something, use this one!! How would any killers of your choice react to their so entering a trial in a shirtless skin (like davids?) bonus for trans kings if they notice the top surgery scars and kiss them awh <3

- handsome anon

I’ve been dealing with some writers block recently. So thank you so much Handsome Anon!

Tw: suggestive

Killers: Wesker, Ghostface, Legion(Frank & Joey), Trickster.

Wesker:

Oh my? He definitely likes.

Your skin looked so soft. He just wants to get his hands on you.

But he’ll wait until the perfect moment.

When he does have you he won’t let you go. Not that you wanted to be let go.

He’ll take his time running his gloved hands over your body.

He would take notice of the top surgery scars. Would run his fingers over them ever so gently.

“I appreciate the show love. Next time leave it for my eyes only.” His still possessive remember?

Of course you being you teased him about it. Making a bit of fun of his possessiveness.

He really did find the confidence that you had to be extremely attractive.

Just saying if you can match his confidence he’ll love you more.

Ghostface:

He wants to go honka honka on your moobs.

The things this man would do if he had his hands on you.

But first it’s photo shoot time.

He’ll ask you to pose for him. You said yes mainly because he looked too happy to disappoint.

He even shows you what poses he wants you to do.

After he was satisfied with the photos he’ll just press his face into your chest.

He was giggling like an idiot which would bring a smile to your face.

“You like being down there Danny?”

A very muffled ‘yeah’ left his mouth, fallowed by a kiss pressed into your scars.

He stayed like that for the rest of the trial. The entity was very upset at him.

Frank:

If you thought this man was bratty before you haven’t seen anything yet.

He was fuming that you showed yourself to other people then himself.

He would zero in on you having you under him in seconds.

He would try and reach to touch your scars. He was going to be gentle but you had other plans.

You somehow managed to turn the table and had him pinned.

“You have to ask nicely.” This man was squirming and whining under you.

Eventually he would cave and start begging.

You’d let him touch your chest ever so gently.

“Good boy.” He didn’t liked being called that too much.

Joey:

Oh.

He didn’t know exactly how to react to this.

He just knew you were really pretty.

Eventually the two of you would end up in a chase.

The chase would end in a locker, the two of you just staring at each other.

He watched you shiver and got very concerned. Taking off his je let handing it to you.

“Oh no honey I’m fine don’t worry.” You say very clearly cold. He wasn’t having it.

“Please wear a shirt next time.” He watched you pout at him.

He immediately starts to crumble and you had to quickly tell him you were goofing.

Trickster:

He was definitely the most excited. He gets to see your drop dead gorgeous bod.

Though that doesn’t really stop the sadistic side of him. He’ll through a knife at your back not hard.

You let out a yelp and glared at him. He just winked and walked up to you.

“Aw handsome look at you! My pretty boy!” He just leans against your chest.

If he does kiss your chest he’ll get lipstick on you.

You’ll complain about the lipstick but he doesn’t care.

He just lets you hold him while he just cuddles you.

You tired reminding him about the trial but he didn’t care.

He just wants to stay here with you.

373 notes · View notes

abeautylives · 23 days

Text

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 2

author’s note: The word "skivvies" means underwear. Apparently not everyone knows that lol

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2014-2016

word count: 7k this part

warnings: language, more teenage angst, illicit substance use, underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual situations, fingering, angry Sam

I was serious when I said I couldn’t show my face at the Kiszka household for a while.

Sam showed up at my front door the next afternoon, and immediately started making fun of me for being rejected by his brother.

“Oh Joshy, why won’t you kiss me?!” Complete with immature kissy sounds and puppy dog eyes.

I could only wonder what Josh had told him happened. He wouldn’t tell me. Menace.

It was one thing to hang out with Sam so soon after the incident, but there was no way I could be around Josh. Or even Jake.

The more I thought about that night (which was a lot), the more I over-analyzed Jake’s reaction to his twin cozying up to me.

Was I crazy to think that he was mad at me? Or at Josh? The look on his face had been murderous (it got even more murdery every time I thought about it). Had I imagined that?

Because I’m the luckiest girl on earth, I didn’t have to wait that long to find out.

After three weeks of avoiding their house all together, Sam convinced me to come by for a smoke sesh in the garage. Same as always, the usual, totally casual. I knocked twice on the door and let myself in, sat on the old throw rug right next to Sam, joined the rotation with Danny on the couch across from me and Sam to my left. Around and round it went, while I refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the room but Sammy.

Jake sat upon his ugly floral throne and Josh was tucked into the corner of the couch beside him. I risked peeking up at them, back and forth, whenever I knew they weren’t paying attention.

They were so different. More different than I had ever realized, but Josh seemed okay - a little quiet but he smiled easily and laughed freely. I don’t think Jake even glanced in my direction once, but I was too scared to look at him for too long, so who knows.

Eventually, Sam smoked too much. He did this almost every time, you’d think he’d have figured it out by then. He laid himself flat out on the cement floor and dozed off, so I asked Danny to toss me one of the dingy throw pillows from the couch.

“Here, stupid.” I shoved Sam’s shoulder and he stirred enough to lift his head, I stuffed the pillow underneath it. He went out like a light.

Jake chose the moment Sam passed out to stand from the chair. He stayed there for a second, and I could see him from the corner of my eye. Just standing there, like a total weirdo! So yeah, I looked up at him. Don’t you worry, he was already looking down at me and our eyes locked. Of course they did.

His expression was pretty neutral but made me feel squirmy anyway, so I blinked and looked at Josh instead. You guessed it, he was already looking at me too! Except he’s perfectly lovely and sweet, so he grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Come grab some snacks with me, Tiny.”

Nope, Josh didn’t say that. I nearly snapped my neck jerking my head back up to Jake. “C’mon, T.”

When we were still in middle school, Sam and I would sometimes watch reruns of The Twilight Zone, have you ever seen that show? Each episode was a story about some seriously weird and disturbing shit, alternate realities.

This was like that. I had entered the Twilight Zone.

Josh was my only option for help, so I obviously looked over at Danny instead. He was melting into the couch again, lightweight.

“Let’s go.” This Jake was freaking me out. I mean, he didn’t talk to me much under normal circumstances, but he definitely never asked me to go anywhere with him. Let alone demanded it.

“Okay!” Once again, I embarrassed myself under this roof. My voice came out strained and squeaky. Let’s blame it on the dry mouth.

He skirted around the chair and out the side door, and my body just got up to follow him. Traitor! I stepped over Sam and before I made it to the door, Josh’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

“Hey, you okay?”

Ugh, he’s so perfect.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine but he’s being so weird, right?” Right?!

“He is. He’s been kinda weird for a couple weeks, even with me. But uh… Good luck in there, missed you around here.” He released his hold on my wrist and chuckled. Traitor!

My possible friendship with Josh was tenuous at best, but I was considering a forever type of silent treatment after this betrayal. I sucked a few deep breaths into my lungs before I walked into the house, and when I made it to the kitchen, Jake was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t even pulled any snacks out. He lifted his eyes to me as I walked in, and did that flippy thing with the hair that always flopped over them.

“What’s up Biebs?” He hated that (he and Sam both did, it was great), and I knew he hated that, but he was getting on my nerves with his attention, with his demands. I could see the hate written all over his face, but I crossed the kitchen and leaned into the counter across from him. Then I matched his wide-legged stance, crossed my arms, and scowled. We stared at each other for a beat, my underarms started to sweat before he responded.

“Where have you been the last few weekends?”

What do you mean he’d noticed I hadn’t been here? Was he for real?

“Uhh, I’ve been around, I guess. What do you care?”

“You avoiding us, Tiny?” He adjusted his stance, straightening up to his full height (a whopping half inch taller than me - what is it with these guys?) but kept his arms across his chest. His hair had fallen back into his eyes and he flipped it away, and I just stared at him in silence. “Something happen the last time you were here?”

What do you know, dickhead?

“Like what, Jacob?” I smoothed out the scowl from between my eyebrows and batted my lashes at him. I’m so innocent! He did not like it. His arms dropped to his sides and he pushed himself away from the counter. In less than a second he was standing right in front of me. In a fraction of that, he had leaned in close, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine. I tried to back away, arching my back over the edge of the counter, but he moved in further.

Now my back was sweating.

“Did you fool around with my brother?”

Jesus. His question breezed over my lips and his words shot straight to my gut. It wasn’t like the soft caress of Josh’s voice asking what I was doing when I’d been begging him to kiss me. This wasn’t like that at all.

“Uh-“ Yeah yeah, I had to clear my throat. I think I stopped breathing. “Who? Sammy? Gross, dude.”

Deflect! Deflect!

“Did you fuck Josh, T?”

WHAT?!

I pushed him away from me. I couldn’t breathe!

“What the hell are you talking about, Jake? Of course I didn’t… do that!” I’d never done that, with anyone, had he lost his mind?

“Then why is he acting so weird? And why haven’t you been here since that night?” He really seemed surprised that I hadn’t fu- had sex with Josh on the couch in the garage. What kind of girl did he take me for?

“Ask him yourself, asshole!”

“I did! Multiple times! He won’t say shit and says you guys are just friends, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been too chicken-shit to show your face!”

Why was he so close to me again? I put a palm squarely in the middle of his chest, ready to push his ass to the floor if I had to, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and squeezed. Kinda hard.

“My own brother won’t tell me the truth and it’s your fault.” He pushed my hand back into my own chest. “What did you do to him?”

I was truly at a loss for words, so I uttered a few that I honestly had never said to anyone before. Not even Sam.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

But he didn’t even move! His face sort of twisted up, like he was confused, but I don’t think I could have been any more clear.

“Grow up, Tiny.”

Ugh, when did he learn how to push all my buttons? “You grow up, and mind your own business you creep. What, are you jealous I kissed Josh and not you?”

You should’ve seen it, seriously. You had to be there. He sprung away from me like I’d electrocuted him.

“You are! Oh this is hilarious, you’re jealous.” I had to say it, the look on his face was a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. I couldn’t believe it. “Do you like me Jake? Huh? You wanna kiss me Jake?”

There’s no excuse for that one. I still don’t know why I said it. But then, ohhhh then, he rushed back into my space, wrapped both hands around the base of my skull, and slammed his lips against mine.

See? Luckiest girl on earth.

A lot of things happened in a span of a very few seconds.

The weight of his body pushed me into the counter pretty hard, but I barely registered the pain. My first reaction was obviously shock, confusion, but it quickly turned into acceptance and my lips went from stiff against his to soft and welcoming.

Yep. I kissed him back.

My hands flew up and wrapped around his wrists, and he actually gripped my hair. I gasped into the kiss and he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He groaned, I moaned and-

“Seriously?!”

We bounced apart like the opposite poles of two magnets. Jake didn’t stop moving backwards until he hit the counter across from me.

“This is seriously fucked up, guys.” Sam stood in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes red and unfocused, but they landed on me. “Go home, T. I shouldn’t have even asked you to come here.”

Before I could argue or even get upset with him, he turned out of the room and was gone.

I was confused. Very confused. My heart was still beating erratically in my chest and my breaths didn’t feel right either. Of all the people on the planet, I had to look to Jake effing Kiszka for help.

“Jake…” My voice came out small, weak.

For a minute, he just shook his head. My vision went a little blurry.

I am not going to cry in front of another one of these idiots!

“Jake.” Stronger that time, better. “Why did you do that?”

“Why did you?”

“You kissed me first! I-“

“You liked it.”

No, no I did not. I loved it. There was enough potential that I could’ve been smitten with it.

“You’re disgusting.” As I found my voice, I also found some anger. That anger coerced my feet into action, and I found myself toe to toe with him again. I pushed a finger right into his chest, for good measure. “Don’t ever-“

I learned a few things that night. One thing was that Jake was a really terrible listener.

He didn’t grab me again, he didn’t crowd me or slam his mouth to mine. He just leaned forward and let his lips hover over mine. That shut me up real quick.

“You sure, T?” Ugh, he whispered. And it was sexy, and seductive.

Another thing I learned that night was that Jake was a real prick.

Because he whispered those words across my lips, wrapped his hands around my upper arms and spun us around, backed me into the counter…

And walked away.

With all that being said, that might have been the night I started falling for Jake Kiszka. But I don’t really remember.

Sam didn’t speak a word to me for six days.

He was really mad at me! Or at least I figured he was, since he sent me away and said I never should have been there to begin with. And he ignored all my texts. And calls. Shit, I even emailed him once.

I passed him in the halls at school all week, tried to catch his attention from a distance, watched him purposefully look past me, or through me each time.

I had really fucked up.

On the seventh day, he gave it a rest. A full week since incident #2, he texted me.

sammy: I’m sorry too

That was it. I had apologized a hundred unanswered times, pleaded with him to just talk to me, for a week. After so much silent treatment, I didn’t really know how to address it.

Me: my dad wants me to stay with him for the summer

That was true. My dad always wanted me to stay with him for the summer, but I usually chose to stay home and traded out the other, shorter holiday breaks with him. I hadn’t seriously been considering it, until incident #2.

sammy: In Traverse? Are you gonna go?

Me: yeah.

What did you expect me to say? I needed to get out of the bubble that was our town and away from all the testosterone. Granted, Traverse City is only like three hours away, but that was pretty far for a kid with no license.

Sam didn’t text me back. I was glad I was leaving.

School let out for the summer and my dad picked me up that weekend. Traverse City isn’t all that different from home, aside from triple the population. There’s plenty to do outdoors - beaches and trails - but my dad didn’t exactly provide the same kind of company as Sam.

When you’re running free with your best friend, the break never seems long enough. This was the longest summer I could remember, but by early July Sam and I were back on regular speaking terms. We texted all the time, and eventually accepted each other’s apologies.

But after not hearing from him at all before I left town, the first time he reached out was not all that fun.

sammy: Can I ask you a question

Me: shoot

sammy: Why did it have to be my brothers?

Me: …

Me: what do you mean

sammy: You could make out with ANYONE else

sammy: Why them?

So Josh did tell him something.

Me: Josh told you we kissed?

sammy: That’s not an answer.

The truth? You know the truth. I started crushing on Josh sometime between his bare chest at Fischer Hall and the skintight jeans with the peace sign patch on the ass that he started wearing later that summer.

But I still didn’t know what the hell had happened with Jake.

Me: i already said i was sorry sam. I. AM. SORRY.

Me: i really did like josh… he doesn’t like me back

Me: but i DID NOT KISS JAKE!!! He kissed ME and i have no clue why

Me: I DO NOT LIKE HIM, I HATE HIM

Look, I rarely lied to Sam. I had no reason to. But that text? That was a big fat lie.

How could I tell him that not only did I not hate Jake, I liked kissing Jake. I wanted to kiss Jake again. I wanted to learn how he did it, what his moves were, what made him-

No. Couldn’t tell baby brother all that. So I lied, and I avoided at all costs.

Back to the best of friends by August, Sam was waiting in my driveway the day my dad dropped me off. We spent the last week of the summer attached at the hip again, but I didn’t step foot in his house for a very long time.

The Friday after my eighteenth birthday, Sammy threw me a party. That I didn’t ask for.

I rarely hung out with him at his own house anymore, and if I did it was only when I knew for certain that Jake wasn’t home.

Josh and I had developed a sort of friendly relationship over the last couple years, stemming from a run-in at a movie theater. I was on a date (it went terribly), Josh was on a date (I asked him about it later and yes, that guy liked him back!), we fumbled awkwardly through hellos and introductions. He told me he missed seeing me around.

Those five words were enough to convince me that it would be okay to go to the house if he was there.

But not Jake. Never Jake.

So imagine my utter shock and horror when I knocked twice on the garage door, slipped underneath it, and found the room packed full of people.

“SURPRISE!!!”

Fuck me, right? No one likes surprise parties. I particularly hate them. Especially when I’m standing there like an idiot, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, taking in an unexpected mass of people and my stupid eyes lock on Jake stupid Kiszka.

And he smirked. Asshole.

“I’m not ready to leave you.”

Despite the garage full of our friends, I still ended up on Sam’s lap in the ugly chair, a little buzzed and kind of weepy. I tucked my face into his shoulder.

Don’t judge me. I’d already done a few hours worth of dancing, laughing and drinking. And avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. It was exhausting.

He shrugged off my concerns. “When I’m famous, you can just drop out and come on tour with us.” He raised his beer up to me, so I tapped mine against it. Cheers to adulthood, I guess.

“You better get famous, you dick. Or even better, fail miserably and come live in Ann Arbor with me.”

In a month, I was graduating. It's not like I was leaving for college right away, but the reality of being eighteen was weighing on me. Sam’s reality was even heavier.

The fucking band was getting noticed. Being seen. What was I gonna do if they took off, if he left me and Michigan behind?

“Cheer up, T. This is supposed to be a party.” He squeezed me with the arm wrapped around my waist.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine… I’m just gonna miss you.”

He was really great sometimes, my best friend. He reached down and sat his beer on the floor, then wrapped both arms around me. “I’ll miss you too, you know that.”

I let my eyes close for a minute and just enjoyed it, then sighed heavily against his neck. “Okay, sorry for the pity party. Let me up, I gotta pee.”

A few people were lingering in the kitchen when I made it into the house, they all raised their drinks and yelled happy birthday as I passed through. In the upstairs bathroom, I could hear when they filtered back outside, the house falling silent. I gave myself a little pep talk in the mirror before I left.

Get it together, woman. Have a good time, enjoy the fucking summer. Grow. Up.

Good talk, I know.

When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I heard the refrigerator open. As I turned into the kitchen, someone was still standing there, hidden by the door.

But I knew who it was.

The fridge door swung closed and there he was. And we were alone.

Not this shit again.

I wasn’t gonna do it, I wasn’t gonna do anything. I swear. But I kept moving to pass him and leave the room, and he stuck an arm out and stopped me in my tracks.

“Just let me go, Jake.” See? I had zero interest in this! I didn’t even look at him. Ya know, until he physically turned my body to face him. He had the nerve to smile.

“Happy birthday, T.” Thank God he didn’t whisper it, he was so good at whispering.

“Yeah, thanks. See ya.” I tried to leave again, but he put both hands on me and kept me facing him, toe to toe. Another showdown in the Kiszka kitchen.

“Don’t be like that.”

Oh, how I hated him in that moment. Everything came back, the confusion, the anger I felt the last time we’d been here. When he basically accused me of being a slut right before accusing me of wanting him. And being right about it.

I shook his hands off my arms and took a step back. “No. No, I’m not doing this again.” I turned to leave again, and he caught me by the wrist.

“What are you talk-“

“Stop! Don’t pretend you don’t know!”

“Tiny, I really-“

“Don’t call me that, and don’t act like you don’t know exactly why I have avoided you for two fucking years.”

Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was the tone of my voice, I’ll never know but he dropped my wrist and actually managed to look guilty.

“Exactly. Bye, Jake.”

I made it to the doorway. If I had just been moving faster, I would’ve missed it and probably never experienced what happened next.

“I’m sorry.”

There’s no way I’d heard that right. It spun me around where I stood.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry, about that night.”

I waited for the ground to open up and swallow us, or a meteor to blast through the ceiling. Surely the world was ending. Nothing happened.

“Really. What exactly are you sorry for, hm? Why exactly do you think I hate you?”

“You hate me?” I’m sure you can imagine, but yes, he had the audacity to look surprised by that information. It pissed me off.

“Get real, Jake.” I moved closer. “Get fucking real. Tell me what you’re apologizing for, go ahead. What part of that night are you sorry for?” By the time I was done, I was all up in his space and he looked uncomfortable.

Good.

“I’m sorry I accused you of sleeping with Josh.”

The big bad anger deflated, but only a little. I really hadn’t expected him to acknowledge that.

“You accused a sixteen year old virgin of fucking your brother on a dirty couch in your garage.” He literally cringed. I get it, it sounded bad. Because it was.

“That was really shitty of me-“

“You think?!”

“Let me finish,” His hands were on me again, wrapped around my upper arms. “Please.”

All I could do was nod. That please is what did it. He really seemed to feel bad, and I was believing it.

“I said that out of anger, T. I knew something happened out there, and Josh was all fucked up about it after. He wouldn’t talk to me, and he tells me everything.” My shoulders shook with the force of that word. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

My mind was reeling, grasping for the meaning he intended. I shook my head.

“We’re twins, we don’t have secrets. I thought you either forced him to do something he didn’t want to, or you… were mean to him. Judged him.”

It dawned on me, clear as day.

“You knew.”

He tipped his chin and nodded, just once.

“I don’t- then what about the rest? I called you jealous, but it had nothing to do with that. But you were!”

He nodded again. My resolve crumbled.

“Why did you kiss me?” I whispered it, but I wasn’t trying to be sexy, or seductive.

“Because I was jealous. And I wanted to.”

Gulp.

“I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings. I never wanted you to hate me.”

“What did you want?”

As you can imagine, that question sealed my fate.

“Just you.”

My back was against the refrigerator before he even finished breathing the words. This time, there was no moment of shock, I wasn’t confused, and my lips were not stiff.

His hands slid up my arms and into my hair, and he tilted my head. My mouth opened for him, and I gripped the front of his t-shirt for dear life.

Remember when I told you that by sixteen, I had kissed plenty? That was true. By eighteen, I’d kissed plenty more.

But this kiss was going to ruin me, and I knew it.

He let a hand slip from my hair and ran it down the length of my body, past my shoulder, over my ribs and the small of my waist, then he tucked it between me and the fridge and flattened it to my lower back. And pulled my hips into his.

Oh my god. He did want me, I could feel the evidence of that pressed against me.

“Jake.” I broke the kiss but his lips kept moving, he tilted my head further and ran kisses over my cheek, my jaw. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His hips ground into mine, he didn’t take his lips off of me.

“What- fuck, what are we doing?” My hands flattened against his chest and pushed, just a little, and he finally lifted his face.

His breath was coming quickly, I could feel it under my palms. “What do you wanna do, T?”

My brain raced toward an answer, past all the reasons we shouldn’t do what I wanted to do. There’s still a party going on in the garage, Sam is waiting there for me to come back from the bathroom, this is a bad idea, this is Jake, Sam may never forgive me for this.

“Can we- should we… go somewhere else?” Yeah, that’s what my brain landed on.

“You sure?” The memory of that same question, two years ago, rushed in and I knew that if he walked away from me this time, I would never get over it.

“I’m sure.”

He didn’t stop to reconsider or question my decision, just took my hand and led me back to the stairs. We rushed to the second floor, not leaving time to second guess or re-evaluate. He practically dragged me into his room, slammed the door behind us and locked it.

I didn’t bother looking around, it was dark anyway but I didn’t want to think too hard about what was happening. I just let him push me towards a bed and fell into it. He tore his shirt over his head and covered my body and mouth with his.

My legs opened and he settled between them, immediately grinding into me. This was happening, and it was happening fast. Our mouths were securely attached, so I wriggled beneath him, tugging the hem of my shirt up. As soon as he caught on to what I was doing he took over the task, sliding a hand up under my shirt and touching my bare skin for the first time.

“Fucking hell, T.” God, his voice was ragged, he was literally panting as he leaned back to use both hands, spreading his palms over my stomach, my ribcage, skimming over the sides of my breasts and up until my shirt was over my head and thrown to the floor.

For a minute we just stared at each other, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

He had changed so little and so much in the last two years. Physically, his hair had grown long, hanging to his shoulders instead of flipping across his forehead. His cockiness had transformed into confidence, and his actions up to this moment had been firm and self-assured. As we took each other in, I wondered what changes he saw in me.

Did he see a woman that night, pinned to his mattress by his eyes? At sixteen, I’d tried so hard to convince all of them that I was grown - could he see the ways that I had?

“You’re so fucking hot.” Okay, yeah it wasn’t poetry or anything, but his words pulsed through my bloodstream and settled between my thighs. Something like a whine slipped from the back of my throat, and suddenly we were moving in fast motion. He covered me again, but his kiss landed on my jaw, then below my ear, then the base of my throat. As it passed my collarbone I tangled my hands into his hair. He’d propped himself up on an elbow and the other hand slid up my ribs again then covered my breast.

I wish I could remember what my bra even looked like that night, but it hadn’t seemed like he cared.

He squeezed me softly, I moaned, he squeezed harder. Then his fingers tugged the top of the cup down, and for the first time, a part of me was truly naked in front of Jake Kiszka.

There was only a fleeting moment where he lifted his head and looked at my chest, bared to him, my nipple already hard and aching for his attention - then he dropped his mouth over it and sucked it in.

My back arched off the bed and he sucked me in deeper, his tongue swirling around my nipple before he softly put his teeth on it.

“Yes.” I hardly recognized my own voice, but he must have recognized the need or the urgency in it, because he applied just a tiny bit of pressure, and bit me. “Yes!”

His head popped up and his eyes met mine. “Fuck, you liked that?”

Was that weird? Was I not supposed to? I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded. It prompted him to pull the other side of my bra down and treat my other nipple to the same affection, so I guessed it was the right answer.

We were writhing together, friction between our hips and my hands holding his head to my chest until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Jake, kiss me, please…”

Somewhere along the line, he’d become a better listener. His lips slotted over mine and he kissed me deeply, I felt it everywhere. Until his hand started fumbling with the button of my jeans. It popped open and he slid the zipper down. Just as his fingers danced over the edge of my underwear, he paused.

Against my mouth he whispered, “Yes?”

I nodded frantically, breaking the kiss.

“Say it, T.”

“Yes.”

Fingers slid over cotton and tucked themselves between my legs, and my entire body shuddered. He dropped his gaze to where he was touching me as he pressed them into me and slid them up my center, catching on my clit. I jolted at the contact.

“Jesus Christ.”

Had I surprised him? Done something wrong? Why was he pulling his hand away- oh.

His hand slipped out of my jeans only long enough to slide under the waist of my panties, then it disappeared inside them.

Jake Kiszka had his fingers on my actual, bare-

You get it.

Again, they pressed into me and then through me, I could feel the way my body offered no resistance, slick and easy.

“You- you’re so…” His voice trailed off, but I needed to know. What was I? What was he thinking?

“What, Jake?” I sounded breathy, my voice coming out shaky and quiet. He looked up into my eyes.

“You’re so wet.” He sounded stunned, awe lacing his tone.

My throat closed, I swallowed hard. Embarrassment made my chest hot and I opened my mouth to say something. I’m sorry? But my mouth snapped shut because he moved his fingers through the wetness again and groaned, deep and low, before tracing up to my clit again and circling it.

He continued to watch my face, I think. I’m not sure, because my eyes slammed shut as my body bowed into the feeling, but it seemed like he was watching all of my reactions closely. I’m sure he saw my face drop when his fingers left my clit, only to see my jaw fall open when one moved lower and pushed inside me slowly.

Inside. Me. My eyes shot open and found him staring at me, nostrils flared.

“Relax, T. You’re so tight.”

Was that bad? I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, in through my nose and out through trembling lips. Tried my hardest to relax every muscle, but I was wound so tight I felt like I would implode.

I must have done something right, because his finger slid deeper and he murmured the worst thing I’d ever heard.

“That’s good, good girl.”

In hindsight, I know he wasn’t even trying to be sexy. But my body tightened around his finger again and he started to withdraw it. I panicked, gripped his wrist and dug my nails in just as he pushed all the way inside.

“God!” I couldn’t help it, the invasion was overwhelming me.

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He was pumping it inside me now. “Tell me what you want.” Focus made his features look so serious, but his voice was calm and coaxing. I had no fucking clue what to say.

So I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“More.” He smiled, his mouth curling up at the corners. I felt him withdraw his finger all the way, gasped as he swirled two over my clit, then entered me again with both.

“Jesus, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

So good, so good. That’s good. I let myself relax into his touch and within a few seconds my hips were moving in time with his fingers. My bottom lip was held tight between my teeth as I tried not to let any of the sounds building in my throat escape. He noticed.

His face came close, he pecked a kiss to my cheek then whispered into my ear. “Let me hear you, just be quiet.”

I really had no choice, because as soon as the words left his mouth, he pressed his thumb to my clit and plunged his fingers deep.

“Shit Jake, yes yes yes…”

Still next to my ear, he tucked his face into my neck and kissed me there before making his way back to my lips. His tongue swept out over my bottom lip and I opened to him, let him in. My eyes fluttered closed.

Then I felt it, a tightening, low in my belly. A tingling even lower. I don’t know what I did that signaled to him, but he knew.

“Are you gonna come for me?” He asked between kisses. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

I didn’t have to. All it took was a few more pumps of his fingers, a couple circles with his thumb, and I had my first orgasm.

Trust me when I tell you, it was a doozy.

My entire body tensed, my back arched and my mouth opened. Thank God I couldn’t hear myself over the buzz in my head because I’m sure the sound I made was mortifying, but it didn’t matter. As quickly as it had gripped me, it started to fade away. Things came back into focus and I felt Jake’s fingers softly moving in shallow strokes before they stopped and he pulled them from me.

“Wow.”

Who said that? Oh, it was Jake. I peeked up at him and his eyes were wide, almost black in the darkness. Then he pulled his hand from my pants and stood up so quickly, I was sure I’d done something wrong. I shot up to sit and had barely planted my feet on the floor when I heard his belt buckle clink. The shuffle of his shoes across the carpet as he toed them off his feet. The soft swish of denim falling down his legs and hitting the floor, more shuffling and he stepped out of his jeans.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I didn’t even have time to truly panic, because he stepped back up to the bed and leaned down, kissing me briefly on the lips before using his hands to guide me backwards, laying across his bed again. He reached for the waist of my pants and, already undone, started to slide them off of my hips. I let him pull them down my legs until they got stuck at my shoes.

He chuckled. I giggled, nervously. He slipped my shoes off then tugged my jeans from my feet. I shifted and sat back up.

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his skivvies and socks, and myself wearing much of the same. Except my tits were out, the cups of my bra pushing them up from underneath.

Jake must have sensed my nerves, because he asked me if I was still sure. I nodded and he demanded to hear it out loud.

“Yes.”

He turned to his nightstand, rummaged blindly through the drawer, and when he straightened he slipped his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his underwear.

Then they hit the floor.

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his socks.

My cheeks exploded with heat and I was grateful that he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark, but I must have made a face, or a noise, because he was poised to tear open the condom wrapper and he stopped.

“Are you okay?”

Oh shit, what did I do?

“Um-“ Cleared my throat. “I- yeah. Yes. Sorry. I’ve just, never done this before.”

“Ha ha, T. For real, what’s wrong?”

Ha ha? I wasn’t laughing.

“Nothing. It’s fine, I just haven’t ever…” It trailed off, because there was something wrong with the way he was looking at me.

“Fuck. You gotta be kidding me.” Ouch.

His arms dropped to his sides, condom packet still between the first two fingers of his left hand. He flicked it away, it skimmed the surface of the nightstand and fell behind it.

No, no no no.

“What? What are you doing?” There it was, a little bit of that panic, finally allowed to bloom under my skin. He bent and stepped back into his boxer briefs and pulled them up. My own semi-nudity suddenly felt shameful, so I tugged the cups of my bra back up to cover my breasts. “Jake, I still want th-“

“No. I can’t, T. You’re still a virgin?”

Was I crazy, because I hadn’t seen anything wrong with that before this exact moment? He stepped back into his jeans and started pulling them up.

I reached out to stop him, a hand on his wrist. “Yeah, but who cares? It’s not that big of-“

“I care!” He ripped his arms away from me, pulled his pants up and fastened them. He continued as he started plucking my own clothes from the floor and shoving them into my shaking arms. “I can’t do that, I can’t be your first. I can’t fucking believe this.”

The first tear slipped and ran down my cheek, and I swiped it away, frustrated. “You’re overreacting, Jake. Why are you-“

He cut me off again. “How could you not tell me? What if I, if I had- God.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to!” I jerked my shirt over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves. “Why would you think I wasn’t?!” Pulled my jeans over my feet and up my legs.

“Because Sam told me!”

My fingers stopped buttoning my pants, my head jerked up. “What?!”

“Sam said he thought you were fucking that idiot you dated last year, when you weren’t coming around for like a month. He-“

“I’m gonna kill him. That’s it, I’m finally gonna actually kill him.”

Jake threw his arms up. “What was I supposed to think, T? With the way you were kissing me, and- and- you weren’t acting like a virgin!”

“Because you still think I’m some kind of slut, Jake? Is that it? Oh my God I’m so stupid.” I fastened my jeans and pulled my shoes on, then shoulder checked him on my way to the door.

It felt good, okay?

He was right behind me, forgetting his shoes and pulling his shirt on as he followed me down the stairs, but I didn’t stop. I bolted through the kitchen and outside, then into the garage.

A lot of people had left and I found Sam immediately, strewn across one end of the couch. He was probably crossfaded and ready to pass out, but he popped up as soon as he saw my face.

“Tiny, where have you been? What’s wrong-“ Jake stormed into the garage behind me, and even through hooded, bleary eyes, Sam put some pieces together. Or tried to.

I was trying desperately not to cry, and I’m sure I looked it. I could feel how kiss-swollen my lips were, and I guessed that Jake’s looked the same. Add in the fucked up bed hair, and then two tears that slipped free and ran down my face.

“What the fuck did you do..”

But Sam wasn’t talking to me. He was looking past me.

“What did you do?!”

The few of our friends that were left lingering in the garage were all staring at us.

“Party’s over! GET OUT!” I flinched. I’d never heard Sam yell, not in anger. Everyone jumped and hustled through the side door until we were alone, and Sam took one deep breath before speaking.

“T, come here, are you okay?”

I didn’t move, just nodded my head and wiped furiously at my cheeks. “Yes, I’m fine, I- I just wanted to tell you I was leaving.” He came to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“What did you do?” I knew he was speaking to Jake, still standing silently behind me.

“Sam, I don’t know what you’re thinking but-“

“Why is she fucking crying?”

I broke free of his hold and stopped him. “Sam, it’s okay. I’m fine, I swear. I’m going home.” I grabbed my bag from the floor beside the couch and flung it over my shoulder, lifted the garage door and slipped out.

I didn’t stop running until I reached my driveway.

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfic #sam gvf

34 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 2 years

Text

Wishes on Your Mind

Any situation exposed to both ghosts and Danny’s parents immediately became unforgiveably stupid, no matter what it started out as. Vacation? Mental health crisis? Dinner out? PTA meeting? School dance? Political speech? Discussion on how to save the city from a ghost invasion? Chance encounter with a friend in the grocery story?

None of it could resist the sudden environmental drop in IQ.

If anyone asked, that was what Danny was going to blame the current situation on.

He crept around a display of soda cans (10% OFF!) while keeping one ear on the murmur of his mother’s conversation with Mrs. Foley. One of the new cashiers had just moved into town last week, and the grocery store was infested with wish-construct ghosts. Invisible wish-construct ghosts, because Desiree had convinced the poor ignorant, gullible cashier to wish them that way. None of the other shoppers had noticed.

On one hand, this was great. He finally knew where Desiree had been hiding out all week and what she’d been doing. On the other, it would be nice if he wasn’t the only one noticing the problem. Or if, at least, everyone was running away from the problem. Or if his mom didn’t know he was in the store.

Oh, to be a superhero in civilian identity creeping around a grocery store, trying not to break anything while fighting invisible nasties that were influencing the shopping habits of everyone who passed by. It sucked.

He sprinted, almost silently, after a thing that was animating grocery carts. He couldn’t blast it out while he was in human form - what if someone saw? - so he’d have to catch it when it moved between carts. This brought him back into range of the conversation.

“I just wish he’d say what he was thinking,” said Maddie.

Danny heard Desiree giggle and felt her magic settle over him like an enormous sticky cobweb. Oh, come on! That was just unfair! Not only did he have to hunt down Desiree and her minions, he’d have to do it while, what, having no brain mouth filter? Is that what? Was it too much to ask for a break?

His mother and Mrs. Foley turned to him with wide eyes.

“Oh, no, I said all that out loud, didn’t I? Gosh, I’m an idiot, and she’s definitely going to use this to make me think of wishing, make me think about wishing something, shut up, you idiot, you’re going to let something slip!” He backed away.

“Danny,” said his mother.

“No, no, no, absolutely not, she can’t know about Dani, or Cujo, or-- Desiree!”

Green mist curled between him and his mother, forming into the genie ghost. “You mentioned something about wishing for things? I can make that happen.”

Worst thing was, Danny did know, and it wasn’t like he’d never thought about things like that. Never thought to wish for-- Maybe this could be a way to get Desiree back into the Zone, he’d wished her way before, if he could only think of one-- Or allies, he could use some backup. Then again, he’d always wanted to-- He had to negate this wish if he wanted to get anything done--

Danny tripped and stumbled over words as thoughts flicked through his head, faster and faster. He bit his tongue several times. Desiree had started out looking amused, but now she seemed rather bored, even though she was dodging blaster shots from Maddie, who had taken cover behind a shelf of produce.

Honestly, Danny hated ghost fights. Especially ghost fights like these.

“Then why don’t you wish to stop?”

“Because obviously that would go against my--” He slammed his hand down over his mouth. It kept moving but the words were muffled. He had to come up with a way to keep this thing from making him do something that would reveal his secret! Wait! That was it! He removed his hand. “I wish I couldn’t do anything that would reveal my secret!”

In Danny’s defense, this situation involved both his parents and ghosts. He wasn’t immune from the idiocy either.

He felt the second wish settle over him, pulling some power from the first, but he also felt a great jolt, like getting hit with the Plasmius Maximus tear through him, and his awareness of ghost energy dropped to zero.

“Anything else you would like to wish for, dear? Perhaps some long held childhood dream? A present you never got for Christmas?”

About a dozen thoughts about ghosts and hunting and Phantom and his powers rattled through him, but since he couldn’t articulate any of those, what came out was, “I always wanted a puppy.”

Cujo poofed into Danny’s arms and gave him a big lick across his mouth. Bleh.

“Oh,” said Desiree, disappointed. “You know each other. I was hoping for a rampage.”

Ugh. Why couldn’t a nice ghost have Desiree’s powers? Like Cujo.

“What?” asked Desiree, alarmed.

“What?” asked Danny, confused. He was spewing so much nonsense he wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. Were his thoughts always like this? It seemed really chaotic.

Then Desiree’s face softened into something almost… dopey? Her tongue lolled from her mouth and she… Licked him?

What?

“You aren’t eating my son, ghost!” shouted Maddie.

This was so embarrassing. Danny wished they were somewhere else right now. Which, considering that he said that out loud, caused space to warp around him, Desiree, and Cujo. They were deposited in the park. The blessedly empty park.

“Ha!” said Danny. “Your mistake! Now I can-- Oh, no, I can’t, can I crap, crap, crap, that was a stupid wish. I just had to say something that would--” Keep his ghost half out of reach. “I can’t even say it!”

Desiree barked at him. Danny froze.

“Wait. Cujo? Is that Cujo in there? Did my wish put you in Desiree’s body?”

“Idiot!” Danny jumped at Desiree’s voice emanating from Cujo’s body. “My powers are attached to my body! Of course the mutt is in there!”

“Ha!” said Danny. “Serves you right! Don’t go granting wishes all over the place like that if you don’t like it.”

“You think the dog is going to do any better? Wish me back!”

“No! You’ll just start trying to take over the town again, or turn my friends into ghosts, or erase my memory, or--”

Cujo, apparently deciding he wanted more of Danny’s attention, jumped him. When Cujo was a puppy, this was cute, a bit of a discipline issue, but cute. In the body of a fully grown and scantily clad ghost, however…

Suddenly, it was a lot less funny.

“Oh no, this is like Poindexter all over again. How do we fix this?” He wished Sam and Tucker were here. They always knew what to do about things.

Wait. Those were words coming out of his mouth and--

Sam and Tucker popped into place to either side of him with a puff of ectoplasmic smoke.

Sam pulled her toothbrush out of her mouth. “This had better be good,” she said.

“Nooooo,” said Tucker, dropping his game controller and falling to his knees. “My win streak!”

“It isn’t,” said Danny, “it’s horrible.” Cujo licked him. Again, as a dog, cute, as Desiree--

Sam dropped her toothbrush and activated her wrist ray, something dangerous in her eyes.

“Wait!” said Danny. “It isn’t what it looks like!”

“Then what is it?”

Danny spewed out the whole story, and then some. It took twice, maybe three times as long as it should have because not having a brain-mouth filter encouraged his brain to follow the weirdest tangents and it was also hard to explain some parts while not being able to talk about Phantom or being half ghost or any of their past fights with Desiree.

“Okay,” said Sam, as Danny continued narrating every stray thought that crossed his mind, which, unfortunately for him, included some thoughts about how Cujo-in-Desiree felt pushing against his arm, and, oh, that sure got him a glare. “I wish that all the wishes Danny made today were undone.”

Well, since Danny was still saying everything he was thinking, he was pretty sure it hadn’t worked.

“Of course it didn’t work! He’s a dog! You can’t make a wish that complex and expect him to understand.”

“Oh! I have an idea! What if I say, ‘I wish Desiree and Cujo would get their brains back in their heads.’ Do you think that would work? Oh, no, I said that out loud, too, I’m--”

There was a pop and more smoke - Desiree’s powers really had a lot of smoke effects, didn’t they? - and when it cleared, Desiree and Cujo had their heads back, sure, but they were also on the wrong bodies.

“Oh,” said Tucker. “That’s just messed up.”

“You will pay for this, Danny Phantom. Mark my words, you. Will. Pay.”

“That doesn’t sound like the words of someone who needs help, does it?” asked Sam, venomously.

“How about we get rid of Danny’s wishes before he makes things worse again, okay?”

Honestly, Danny didn’t know how he could make things worse. Unfortunately, his imagination was all too willing to supply some examples and in short order they were dealing with an earthquake, an alien invasion, and carnivorous daffodils.

“I wish Danny went back to normal!” screamed Tucker as he was beamed up into a spaceship.

‘Normal’ to Cujo evidently meant that Danny was in Phantom form, which was fine. He had control of his words again! He wasn’t stumbling over his thoughts because what he was saying distracted him! Victory!

The aliens were still there.

“I wish all the wishes Desiree and Cujo have granted in the last week went away without hurting anyone!”

When the smoke cleared, Danny, Sam, and Tucker were sitting in the middle of the park, Desiree looming angrily over them.

“You!” she said. “I am going to-- Why am I itchy? Why am I--? Oh my gosh, do I have fleas?”

“I wish you were back in the Ghost Zone!” said Sam, quickly, taking advantage of her distraction.

“For at least a week!” added Danny.

Desiree groaned. “Fine,” she said. “But this isn’t over, Phantom!” She melted into the air.

Cujo yipped happily and crawled into Danny’s lap.

“Let’s never speak of this again,” said Danny.

“Agreed,” said Sam. “But first we’re getting Cujo a flea collar. I know you let him sleep in your bed sometimes.”

#danny phantom #fic

424 notes · View notes

metize · 2 years

Text

His Obsession (Danny Johnson - The Ghost Face- x AFAB!Reader) (NSFW

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Mildly Dubious Consent, You know how Danny is, Boot Worship, AFAB reader, Reader is a survivor, Degradation, Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Dom/sub, Physical Abuse

Summary:

“My last trial was against Ghost Face”

“Oh, that guys sucks.” You groaned, “The worst part is the whole photography thing… It’s so… unnerving.” You couldn’t help but say your piece when they mentioned the killer. He had to be one of your least favorites to face. The way you had to always look behind you, the feeling of being watched, it was creepy.

“Photography thing?” Jake tilted his head “Like, when the picture he takes for his mori?”

“Uh… yeah but also every other time he’s taking pictures of you, when you’re screaming on the hook, when you’re crawling on the floor, you know? Those pictures?” You were a bit confused, your attempt to relate to them going over their heads.

“I don’t remember him doing that…” Dwight looked over at Nea who nodded.

“What do you mean? He’s always taking pictures of me, isn’t that something he does to everyone?”

Reader attracted the wrong kind of attention.

You were all sitting around the campfire as another group of four people returned from their trial, their faces were tired and you offered them a sympathetic smile.

“How did it go?” Jake asked Nea as she sat down, she shook her head and sighed.

“All sacrificed, bastard took us all to the basement…” she answered with annoyance in her voice.

“Who was it?” Ace chimed in.

“Ghost Face.”

“Photography thing?” Jake tilted his head “Like, when the picture he takes for his mori?”

“I don’t remember him doing that…” Dwight looked over at Nea who nodded.

“What do you mean? He’s always taking pictures of me, isn’t that something he does to everyone?” You ask nervously.

“Wait, wait, explain, he just takes pics of you all the time?” Nea smirked in amusement “That’s kind of hilarious, maybe you’re his muse.”

The others laughed along and so did you, you playfully push Nea and shook your head.

You and the other survivors keep talking and trying to ease the post-trial depression, you were smiling along with them but you couldn’t help but start zoning out thinking about the revelation that you were the only one facing Ghost Face’s camera all throughout the trials. He would hook you and quickly snap a picture, never shutting up about how pretty you looked bleeding out for him.

It was disgusting of course, but you didn’t take it personally because you assumed this creepy attitude extended itself to all survivors. The realization that it wasn’t the case sent shivers down your spine and a strange heat to your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. You felt disgusted at yourself for feeling this way and immediately repressed the thought immediately. You were definitely not looking forward to your next trial with the masked man.

Alas, the Entity had a sick sense of humor. In your very next trial you were face to face with Ghost Face, not only that but you were the last one alive. You were running as fast as you could, he chased you down with his knife and you knew you were done for, you were never the best at evading killers in a chase. You vaulted over a window only to feel the blade of his knife slashing your back, you felt it again, the hit sending you straight to the ground.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love seeing you like this?” he said, wiping his bloodied knife on his sleeve before reaching for his camera. “On the ground writhing in pain completely at my mercy… let’s turn you over, show your pretty face to the camera, hm?”

He kicked your side and you whimpered as you rolled over with your back to the floor looking up at the man towering above you. “Beautiful… that’s it…” he breathed before pressing his leather combat boots on your chest, the pressure didn’t hurt but felt extremely humiliating. Worse yet, it was kind of hot. You looked away from him in shame, making him tut you in disappointment. He pushed his boot on your neck forcing your chin upwards and your gaze towards the camera again. “If you try to look away again I’ll gorge out your eyeballs, kitten”

“Just… kill me already, what are you doing?” You said through gritted teeth.

“Ah, you wound me, can’t I just enjoy our time together while it lasts?” His boot pressed harder against your chest now hurting you for real. “I just can’t get enough of you, you look so cute when you’re scared.”

“Oh I wound you? That’s rich.” You scoffed and that earned you a chuckle from him. He then crouched down and reached for your neck, just holding it as he straddled your body.

“You do and you should be more appreciative if you ask me,” his grip tightened, the rough fabric of his gloves bruising your skin as he did so, before letting go entirely. You gasped for air as he let go, coughing trying to catch your breath. “God… I just love watching you squirm,” he let his hands wander to your chest groping you through your clothes. You gasped feeling his touch reaching under your blouse.

“W-wait what are you doing?” You asked before moaning as he pinched your nipples.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he laughed at your reaction and reached for his knife and cut the fabric, annoyed at the barrier keeping him from you. “Aren’t you done pretending you don’t feel this?” he traced your skin lightly with the knife admiring the newly exposed area “This connection, this bond we share… don't you feel it?"

"You're insane…" you shook your head still trembling, he chuckled.

"Ah… you just need a bit convincing, I'm sure" he stabbed the ground right next to your face, making you shudder "because I feel it, baby. When I get to a trial and see your pretty ass crouching over a generator it makes me so happy. Hell, I even began visiting your little campsite just to watch you, you're driving me crazy…"

"W-wait, wait! Stop it!" You try to push him away again, but it was no use, he wouldn't budge. The struggle was annoying him so he grabbed your wrists and pushing them to the ground pinning you arms above your head.

"Look at you, you're trying so hard" his condescending tone pissed you off, you tried to kick him but you couldn’t angle yourself properly to manage a good hit. "Listen here." His other hand grabbed your throat, his tone was now dark. "I'm getting a little tired of your disobedience, kitten." He raised his hand before striking your face. The shock and the pain made you stop, feeling your whole body freeze. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to suck on the gloved digit. "I know you're enjoying this, you know you're enjoying this. So stop. Making. A scene."

You looked away, you repeated to yourself that he was wrong, you weren’t enjoying this. But you were. A dark side of your mind reveled in the pain, in the humiliation, in the disparity of praise and punishment. The daze of having to confront these shameful feelings left you vulnerable for the man to stop restraining you, instead pulling down your pants. He touched you over your panties, you couldn't help but moan at his ministrations.

“I knew you’d give in, knew I could make you my slut.” He laughed at your predicament “Look at how wet you are for me, kitten.” He punctuated his phrase by moving your underwear to the side and plunging two fingers inside, you gasped at the intrusion “See how easily that went in?” His face was right next to yours, the words made you blush and hide your face.

He was loving your reactions, but he was impatient. He had waited for this, he’d been planning this so carefully, he came over pictures of your bloody exhausted body more time than he could count. He stripped you naked, exposing you completely to him before he pulled out his cock from his pants.

You felt the head press against your soaked entrance, you shivered in anticipation and couldn’t help but give him a pleading look. He filled you with a single thrust, his hand immediately moving to your neck, the stretch hurt, you hadn’t had anything going in there ever since you entered the fog. You screamed and he chuckled when you grasped his shroud for support as he started thrusting inside you.

“You’re mine, slut, your body belongs to me, your cunt belongs to me, you belong to me.” He growled, his movements were harsh and violent. He was possessive and at that moment you couldn’t help but believe his words.

His hand travelled down your body grabbing your breasts before pulling your legs over his shoulders. The new angle made you moan, as the pain started giving place to pleasure, you couldn’t keep your voice down, with pleased Danny immensely. “That’s right… Fucking scream for me.”

He grabbed your waist pulling your body to meet his thrusts, his cock now reaching your sweet spot and your clit begged for attention, the bundle of nerves getting teased every time your hips met. You were desperate, it had been too long, you shook your head in shame and disbelief. You couldn’t believe you’d let a killer fuck you, much less make you come. Ghost Face noticed it immediately.

“Take my mask off, slut, I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum.” Your eyes widened, you weren’t expecting him to actually allow you to see his face. He grunted as he picked up the pace “Do it, whore.”

You eagerly reached for the white mask pushing it upwards letting it rest on top of his hood. His face, you were looking at his face. The intimacy of the gesture left you speechless but more importantly, he was hot. His hair was short and messy, his eyes were sunken and his stare was manic. He looked like a mess, a fucking psycho, because that’s what he was. You hated yourself even more for finding him attractive, his lips curved into a pedantic smirk. His movements got frenetic and his hand reached to brush you clit, making you scream and beg him.

“Please, please, please…” You pleaded, the pleasure coursing through your veins felt like lava. Your pussy ached for release. “Please l-let me cum…”

“Shit… you’re already begging, I didn’t have to say a thing” He chuckled, the clear sound of his voice now unrestricted by the mask sent shivers down your spine “Do it, I want you to know who owns you, who’s making you feel this good, cum for me, slut.”

“Ah! Yes…!” A loud moan escaped your lips, the fluttering spikes of pleasure finally culminating into a bursting orgasm, your hands clutched into fists, the man’s clothes still in your grasp, as you tried to ground yourself. Danny didn’t stop thrusting, the sight of you cumming under him made him swear and bite his lip.

“Fuck, you look so fucking hot… My perfect little toy” He thrusted a few more times into your limp exhausted body before pulling out entirely. The action made you gasp and Ghost Face held your jaw open before getting his camera again. “Stay still… I want to remember this” He fucked his gloved fist, smearing your wetness to the fabric, he jerked himself to completion right on your face, his cum staining your face and your mouth managing to catch some droplets. His groans were accompanied with a chuckle satisfied of his work.

The camera flash blinded you for a second, as he photographed your deplorable state. That’s how he liked you best.

#slashers #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight #reader x slasher #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #ghost face x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghost face x reader #reader x ghost face #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight ghostface

286 notes · View notes

lovesickry · 10 months

Text

- the devil is in the details.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [1.9k] ┈⋆⭒ part 7 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here!! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contents: toxic behaviour, nothing kinda. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: yes I apologise that Theo is slightly two dimensional but hey. this is a Danny story so can you blame me? also toxic behaviour that I do not condone but also.....

(1) new message from “theo”

see you today at the race!

it’s the first thing you see when you wake up and you’re embarassed to admit you’d slightly forgotten about him and his attendance, but you pin it up to the fact you’d been busy and not to anything else. yeah you should definitely check that he doesn’t want anything serious. christ. anyway.

you respond.

yeah, we can catch up after my last meeting, should be 5ish.

also, the paddock pass should be in your emails 😉

the wink is sarcastic (god you hope he knows that).

you hop in and have a quick shower before getting ready for work and grabbing your keys, seeing another message.

(5) new messages “lucy mercedes”

what’s your coffee order?

i’m getting you coffee

no arguing

also my address is ________

ok THANK YOUUUUU

you smile at the string of text messages before writing back

an oat cappucino

please.

you’re amazing

she writes back almost immediately

large?

she knows you well apparently.

please?

you turn your phone off after that hopping in the car, it was only 3kms away but in the centre of melbourne who knows, it takes you 15 minutes and she’s sitting out the front holding two coffees. oh you want to hug her. your coffee machine had broken convinetly a week ago and you hadn’t got around to purcahsing a new one yet. she walks towards the car and you smile at her as she hands you your coffee.

“oh you’re a lifesaver, thank you” gripping the cup and taking a sip. better than anything you could’ve used instant coffee for.

“oh don’t worry you’re driving me to work, least i could do”

“oh hush, it’s literally on the way”

the drive is pretty uneventful, although she does bring up daniel once. in a conversation that went somewhat like this.

“oh what’s the deal with you and the redbull driver, um number 3, daniel ricciardo.”

you fight any kind of pysichal response that people would think there’s a “deal” with you.

“i saw him running after you in the car park yesterday, sorry i don’t mean to be nosy you don’t have to answer i just thought it’d be something to talk about”

you felt oddly obligated to answer. she was nice. it was fine, you’d tell a simple white lie.

“oh we used to be friends, in perth, a long time ago. i think he just recognised me and came over to say hi” that was a very bright, fucking glowing, flashing red lie but she wouldn’t know hopefully.

“oh wait that’s so cool. he seems really nice. that’s so funny that now you guys work together” she was trying to be nice, keep it upbeat. you could see that, but god you wanted to move on, immediately.

“yeah he is, weird how i see him again after all these years. kinda random” you let out a short breathy laugh. and segue into something else.

you arrive at the track and unlike yesterday you know exactly where to go and lucy is a comfort, walking beside her, rather than all alone. you reach the garage and both go to your seperate sections. although taking any opportunities to say a few words here and there, throwing some jokes around. having a friend was definitely better than pretending to like listening to your own thoughts. qualifying started well, but ended with valtteri out in Q3 as he took too much kerb on the turn and ending up spinning and ending up in the middle of the track and debris everywhere. initially that would still mean he would qualify 10th, which you could defiently work with. but no, the car had been sent for you and the crew to look at it and the gearbox was harmed in the crash, more like crushed. we were handed a five grid penalty, not something you enjoy to hear. to have one car be number 1 and the other be 15 it wasn’t looking to great for their team or you specifically. the race was probably the most interesting to watch, but you couldn’t really watch it so much as watch what the car was doing and then tell other people and then record that and make sure it was all correct, but when you could watch you did. daniel was doing well, qualifying above valtteri and managing very well so far, it was his home grand prix it’d be expected he’d push, but watching him nearly wreck his front wing to try and edge past räikönnen was definitely an undesirable feeling of absolute dread. both HAAS were out by lap 24 and it looked like valtteri was okay, that the car was okay. the garage was in anguish watching hamilton and vettel battle for p1 and it was exhilarating, but vettel one and even though hamilton was still p2 there was a slight aggravation towards ferrari around the team. valtteri came back 8th gaining a very commendable 7 positions and daniel came 4th and achieved the fastest lap, you ought to congratulate him (as friends) and then remembered that grace would be here, god you’d been so rude you hadn’t thought of that. there was a debrief after, and then meetings after that. which personally you felt dragged on for far too long. inputting as little as you could for fear of sounding over it, you loved your job, you fought VERY hard for it, but no.

the meeting thankfully ended at around 4:30 and you’d agreed to meet theo at 5ish so you thought that you could quickly go say hi to grace and daniels family. she meant so much to you when your mum died and you hoped she’d know that. you made your way to where you thought they’d be , the family section of redbull, trying to ignore the looks you got as someone wearing mercedes kit in a redbull garage. you spot daniel and walk towards him.

“hey”

he’s pretty shocked, turning towards you.

“hey”

“what are you doing here? miss mercedes in the redbull garage?”

“yes whatever, where’s your mum, i haven’t even said hi to her i feel awful”

his shoulders slightly droop.

“god you’re a horrible person”

you just stare at him.

“yes okay she’s in that room over there” he points over to a double glass door, you turn to go but then look back to him.

“good job also, you drove really well.”

he’s almost shocked.

“don’t tell toto i said that”

“no promises”

you walk towards the glass doors, someone looks at you strangely wearing redbull kit and you explain what you’re doing and she nods you forward. you push the doors open and approach grace. she can visually tell that the race was stressful, her brows still drawn together.

“grace” you say. she turns around and briefly looks puzzled not immediately recognising you. she apribtly stands up and pulls you into a hug. once she pulls away she stands with her arms on your shoulders looking at you.

“dylan, sweetheart, i havent seen you in years”

“i know i’m so sorry, but i mean i guess we’ll be seeing more of eachother again” you gesture to your mercedes kit.

“oh my, of course, wow, always knew you were a smart girl, what are you doing?”

“i’m number 77’s performance engineer, i look at the cars performance and statistics and the boring stuff like that.”

joe perks out from the chair besides grace and stands up.

“bloody impressive is what it is”

you smile and hug him as well. they’d practically raised you, as much as your own mother had. the joint holidays you’d take, at the property for the summer holidays. because of the close friendship between your mother and grace and you and daniel were always something you remembered with warmth.

you catch up with them for a while, talking about what they’ve missed and insisting they’d be seeing more of you, before looking at the time. 4:56 and realising that maybe you should get going. you wave them both goodbye before making your way back to the paddock looking around for theo. by some kind of miracle you spot him and walk over to him.

“you look like a crazy person” you say to him, decked out in merch and signatures covering the once white shirt.

“i feel like a crazy person” he laughs.

“wait- shit- is that” he looks over your shoulder at somebody.

“what?” you look behind you but daniel is right next to you. what the fuck?

“daniel fucking ricciardo” theo says as he pulls daniel in for one those “man hugs”

“theoooooo” he drags out the O’s to an extreme amount and you feel stupid just standing there. what is daniel doing.

“i think you got every single driver, engineer and principles signature there” he looks at the shirt he’s holding.

“hah yeah pretty much”

oh god when will this end. why is dan still here.

you try and give him a look, which he heavily dismisses.

“you got a paddock pass?” he asks. oh god you know where this is going

“oh yeah, dylan gave it to me”

fuckkkkkkk me. he looks at you with a half smile and a slightly suggestive look.

“oh did she?” his eyes are boring into your skull at this point, christ can he not.

you look forward ignoring the comment, silently begging for theo to make a comment, he does.

“your drive was pretty epic today mate, thought that you had räikkönen for a minute there”

he finally looks away from you.

“yeah me too” it’s a much flatter tone now and you guess he gets bored because he makes a poor excuse and leaves.

“thank christ” you say out loud.

“yeah that was definitely uncomfortable”

“i’m literally so sorry”

“nah hes always been like that with you”

“what?”

“yeah, even back at school, any of us would try and talk to you and he’d say some weird shit like “she’s not ready to be in a relationship” or “don’t mess with her she just got out of a messy breakup” he’s a nice guy and all but he’d always be weird when it was about you”

your eyes widen. WHAT. HE SAID WHAT.

“what the actual fuck”

“jesus”

“so that’s why no guys talked to me in year 12”

“you didn’t go through a messy breakup?”

you laugh. “no, no i didn’t”

“oh”

“OH SHIT” it clicks

“that’s messed up”

“i thinks hes into you”

you look at him and slightly lift your eyebrows.

“no really i think he is”

you continue walking back to your car ignoring his comment. you take him back to yours where undoubtedly you fuck, where after you both explicitly state and label whatever it was a “situationship” considering he was going back in literally 4 days and you were going to bahrain, but there were no feelings involved and the sex was good and he was nice, you laughed about the whole situation and then fucked and laughed and fucked and it was fine. but why on earth did daniel do what he did, oh what the fuck you could debate him later.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

78 notes · View notes

sparrowofthedawnsworld · 2 years

Text

Sore Loser - Jake Kiszka

A/N: My first fic of the smut wars with @ageofbarbarians <3 -Not- sorry for this one, Jake’s lane…

This is only LIGHTLY proof-read!

WARNINGS: This is 18+ Minors DNI!! Drinking, party games, Asshole!Jake, dom!Jake, hate-fucking, name calling, blood (it’s not what you think lol) degradation, hair pulling, choking, slapping, spitting, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex. Hopefully I didn’t miss any!

Masterlist

••••

“Two more, Y/N and you got him!” Sam cheered you on, clearly fighting back the urge to grip the edge of the beer pong table in anticipation.

You had no idea how you got roped into playing a round of beer pong, with the one person you absolutely couldn’t stand. The feeling was mutual, though… Jake couldn’t stand you either. But, you weren’t regretting it as much as you thought you would in the beginning, as you lined yourself up to make your next shot at his last two cups standing.

Meanwhile on your end of the table, most of the cups were still standing.

“Oh…Oh-” Danny whispered, watching the ball leave your fingers. “OH, SHIT!”

“She’s a fucking beast! I told you!” Sam shouted as he and Danny cheered obnoxiously.

“Do you want her to sink this last one, or just accept defeat now??” Sam snorted, laughing even more as Jake’s face grew even more irritated.

“You could still recover…” Josh tried to soothe him, knowing good and well there was not a chance of a comeback.

Jake shot him a death glare over his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Someone handed the ball back to you and you let out a long, nervous breath. The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop; all eyes -Jake’s included- staring you down with some antsy and some hopeful expressions. Jake’s face was just downright livid.

You lifted your arm, setting yourself up for what would hopefully your final, winning shot.

Holding your breath, you flicked your wrist just so and the small ball flew from your fingers, directly into Jake’s last cup flawlessly.

The room erupted in loud cheers, Danny, Sam and even Josh coming around to bombard you with praises and tipsy hugs.

Jake’s hands slammed down against the wooden table with a loud bang that startled at least half the room. The force of his actions shook the whole table, causing the remaining cups of liquor on your end to spill everywhere.

“Come on, Jake. Don’t be a sore loser.” You teased, only pushing his buttons further.

God, was it nice to be the one doing the shit talking for once. Finally being the one to make Jake mad, versus the other way around - how it normally was.

Jake snatched his (still mostly full) bottle of whiskey from the table angrily, leaving drops of the sloshing liquid all over the table from the force in which he snatched it. Josh watched him attentively, opening his mouth to speak, but shut it as soon as Jake stormed passed him.

The whole room made awkward attempts at turning their attention elsewhere, in attempts at pretending Jake’s little outburst didn’t happen, save for the four of you.

“I think he might be pissed.” Sam snickered in his intoxicated state. “Like really pissed. God, he’s such a hot head.”

“No shit, Sam.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’s just the alcohol…”

It definitely was not just the alcohol and you all knew it.

“He’ll be fine… Just let him be, I guess.” Josh sighed, eyes fixed on the hallway Jake had just disappeared down.

You could tell Josh was slightly taken aback by Jake’s behavior, which made a twinge of guilt start to form inside you - Even though you disliked him because of how he treated you. However, there was not a chance in hell you were going to ruin your once-in-a-blue-moon victory.

“Should I go apologize?” you questioned, biting back a smirk.

The eyes of all three boys shot to you immediately, widened with shock.

“Are you okay? Or are you that drunk?” Danny questioned, walking towards you with outstretched arms.

You huffed a laugh, swatting his arms away. “No, I’m not drunk, Danny. I’d say that was pretty fucking sobering.”

“I would definitely leave Jake alone right now, if I were you.” Josh suggested lightly.

As his twin, he knows Jake better than anyone in the room. You knew you should listen to Josh, but being the biggest hardhead, you were definitely going to ignore his suggestion.

“I’m just gonna go talk to him.” You told them, earning you looks of disapproval from Danny and Josh.

“You two can barely get along. I seriously don’t think this is the best choice you’re making.” Josh tried again, hoping to talk you out of it. “I’d just leave him be.”

“Oh, relax Josh,” Sam shrugged, slumping over into Danny’s shoulder. “We all know you’re not really going up there to apologize.”

You shot Sam a glare of distaste, only making his smirk grow wider. “Am I wrong?”

“Y/N, seriously. If you’re just trying to go in there and rattle his cage even more… don’t.” Josh pleaded with you.

You simply ignored Josh’s pleas, sitting your cup down on the table amongst the others that were tipped over.

All three boys watched you walk down the hall in silence.

“Yeah, okay! Don’t listen to his twin or anything!” Josh yelled after you as you disappeared out of sight.

You shook your head, smiling to yourself at how desperate he sounded. Rightfully so on Josh’s part, to be fair. You were sailing on some dangerous waters.

Those dangerous waters being an angry Jake.

As you reached his door, you fully expected some of your confidence to dissipate out of nerves, fear, whatever. Instead, you found a new wave overcoming you. In your over-confidence and clouded judgment, you reached for the door handle and swung open the door of Jake’s room.

“What the fuck??” Jake snapped, jumping up from where he had been sitting on the bed. There was a blink of thick silence; the perfect opportunity to for you to back out… But you decided to stay.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! Barging in here like this is your own god damn room?!”

Jake’s voice was loud enough to echo through the entire house. You were sure that Josh, Danny and probably even Sam were all cringing to themselves in the living room.

“I came to apologize.” You flashed him your best doe eyes and sweet smile.

The booming, humorless, laugh that Jake let out made your body jolt lightly.

“Oh! Now that’s fucking golden,” Jake laughed dryly. “In that case, you’re not forgiven. Get the fuck out.”

He pointed at the door and if looks could kill, you would have been dead within seconds.

“God, all this attitude just because you lost to me, Jakey? That’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?” You provoked him further, smirking wickedly when his face turned bright red right before your eyes.

As his brain further processed everything you’d just said, his fists clenched at his sides and in the blink of an eye, you were being forcefully slammed into his bedroom door.

The door slammed closed behind you with a loud bang, sending a painting that was above the light switch tumbling down from the wall. The force of in which your back hit the door, sent all the air rushing out of your lungs.

Now, this… this was a bit more than you had bargained for.

As if they had been anxiously waiting for something to happen, you heard

loud, rushed footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Y/N? Jake?! What the fuck?!?” Danny yelled from outside the door, jiggling the handle frantically.

“Fuck off, Danny!” Jake bit angrily, reaching down to firmly hold the door handle in place, causing his body to press harder against yours.

“I’m- We’re fine, Danny..” You croaked out, trying -but failing- to sound reassuring.

Jake had his head turned away from you, staring down at the floor, just waiting for Danny to say something else. You on the other hand, had your eyes screwed shut and hands flat against the door. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, breath catching in your throat every so often.

The two of you stayed just like that for what felt like ages, but was really only seconds. The only sounds being your’s and Jake’s breathing and the low sounds of Jimi Hendrix playing through his record player.

“If they kill each other, they kill each other...” You faintly heard Danny mumble to whoever was with him. Most likely Josh.

You could picture Danny shrugging in utter defeat.

“Jake..” you whispered hesitantly and his eyes shot up to yours immediately.

Jake’s stare was cold and dark. Downright bone-chilling and it made you feel immensely intimidated.

“You-” He growled, letting go of the door handle and pointing his finger at you. “-You have some goddamn nerve, you know that? God, I was hoping you would go straight through this door, but I guess I’m not that lucky.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly, while you fought with your brain to come up with at least a half decent comeback.

“You couldn’t put me through this door, even if you were Danny’s size.” You fired back. Finally.

“Mm. If only Daniel hated you as much as I do… I would gladly ask him to do it.” Jake spoke wishfully, mostly ignoring your blow - comparing his size to Danny’s.

“Too bad he doesn’t.” You smirked triumphantly. “Does it get exhausting, Jakey? Hating my guts for no apparent reason?” You lended a sweetness to your tone, especially on the nickname.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” Jake demanded. “You know what gets exhausting?? Listening to you talk. That annoying, sweet, little voice of yours makes my blood boil.”

“Then shut me up, Jakey.” You challenged him, glancing down at his lips briefly without thinking. “You won’t do shit.”

Jake placed one hand on your hip and wrapped his other around your throat. His whole body pressed you harder into the door with the new leverage; the wood cracking and popping softly behind you. His face was suddenly millimeters from yours, his lips ghosting over the skin just shy of your lips. It was as if he was fighting every urge in his body that was screaming at him to kiss you. To take you to bed and fuck you senseless; the way he always wanted to deep down, but would never dare admit to himself.

“I won’t do shit…?” He spoke against the corner of you mouth.

“Say it again.”

Your own mind raced, trying to figure out why you so badly wanted to seek out his lips.

Your body took over, as if acting without permission from your brain. You chased after the impending kiss as much as your body would allow with his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the door.

“No.” Jake growled, pulling away just out of your reach. “Tell me again I won’t do shit.”

“You won’t do shit.”

Jake flashed you the tiniest smirk, before-

Smack.

His hand retreated from your throat and collided with your cheek. Not enough to genuinely hurt you, but enough to cause the slightest sting to form over your skin. A very pleasurable sting, at that - To your surprise.

Jake searched your face, his filthy smirk widening when all he found was your mouth agape in shock and a deep red blush taking over your cheeks. Mentally you were kicking yourself for liking it… And letting him see that you liked it.

“I’m gonna show you just how much I can’t fucking stand you.” Jake said lowly, like it was a promise.

Without letting you even get a word in, his lips finally connected with yours. You kissed him back without a second thought. It was clear some part deep inside both of had been wanting it, just by how desperate and intense the kiss was.

As the kids intensified, your hands found the hem of his shirt. You gave it a strong tug, signaling that you wanted it gone.

“Already? God you’re such an impatient little whore.” Jake taunted, pulling away to tug his shirt over his head.

“If I’m coming out of my shirt, so are you.”

He pulled away from you, but only leaving you just enough room for you to get your shirt over your head. Once it was off, you were back against the door.

“Jake-“ You hissed, arching away from the cool wood.

“Shut up.”

Jake went for the swell of one of your breasts that was peaking out from your bra. He began biting from there all the way up your neck, to your jaw and finally back to up to your lips, where he captured your lips in another rough kiss.

His lips were -almost literally- intoxicating, tasting of the Whiskey he’d been sipping on for the last couple hours.

Jake broke away just enough to take your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it until a whine finally erupted from you.

“We’ll see how long you keep running this little mouth.” Jake added, grabbing your jaw.

“Around you? Good luck getting me to stop.” You glared up at his lust blown eyes.

Jake jerked you away from the door, practically dragging you over to his bed and throwing you down. Everything he did was with so much force and speed, it made your head spin trying to keep up.

“We’ll see about that when I’m finished fucking you into this mattress.” Jake’s hands found each of your wrists, gathering them both into one hand and pinning them above your head. You gave them an experimental tug, just to see how strong he was - As if how hard he slammed you into his door wasn’t enough proof of his strength.

Jake used one of his legs to spread yours apart and his free hand snuck between your legs, taunting you with a barely there touch over your throbbing core.

“All I better here out of that mouth, is you begging for me to let you cum.” Jake told you, continuing to trace over your core teasingly. “No.. That IS all I’m gonna hear,” Jake rephrased matter-of-factly. “I’ll care about your pleasure when hell freezes over.”

“Well, aren’t you just the biggest pleasure dom.” You jested sarcastically, involuntarily pushing your hips into Jake’s hand.

“And you’re a needy whore.” Jake chuckled without an ounce of humor. “You’re already trying to get some pleasure.”

Jake’s hand swiftly collided with your throbbing cunt, smacking it just like he had done with your cheek.

“Oh, fuck-“ you gasped, jerking your hips away from him.

“Too bad I’m not gonna give it to you…” Jake added on, landing one more smack against you.

“Jake, I-”

“Shut up. One more word from you and I’ll take my belt to your ass.” Jake threatened, but you quickly decided that’s exactly what you wanted.

Jake raised his eyebrows questioningly, as you opened your mouth to speak.

“I don’t take commands from a sore loser.” You spoke defiantly, giving one strong yank at your arms.

“You know what-“ Jake mumbled and released your hands, getting off of you.

He stood at the edge of the bed with a dark, heated expression, pointing to the floor.

“Get up, pants off. Now.”

You hesitated for a beat, looking at him with a blank expression.

“Keep fucking trying me, Y/N. PLEASE, keep it up.” Jake barked, daring you to continue pushing your limits.

Making sure to really make your actions look reluctant; you got up and stood in front of him, as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Just the pants?” You questioned in fake disappointment.

Jake narrowed his eyes at you, giving you a look that made your blood run ice cold. You caved and began undoing the button and zipper of your jeans. “Okay, okay...”

“Panties too, baby girl.“ Jake gestured to your lower half, eyes locked on your nearly naked body.

You slid them down your legs slowly, making a little show of it for him, until they were completely gone from your body. You stepped towards Jake, but he stopped you with a single hand, standing up from the edge of the bed.

“You think I was gonna let you sit in my lap? Not a fucking chance.” Jake’s hands began undoing the buckle of his belt, the clanking of the metal sending chills down your spine and straight to your core.

Once he pulled it out from the loops of his jeans, he sat back down on the edge of the bed.

“Come here.” Jake’s hand grabbed at your arm, pulling you to him. “Lay across my lap, so I can mark this ass with my name.”

You did as he said without any hesitation for once. Every part of you was enjoying this and Jake was becoming very much aware of the little game you were playing with him.

“Don’t get it twisted, I still don’t like you… But your safe word is purple. Got it?” Despite the dry tone to his voice, Jake still made sure you were not in a position you couldn’t get out of.

“Got i- Fuck, Jake!”

Jake’s belt snapped against your ass before you could even get the words out. Your hand clasped over your mouth in attempts to muffle the pornographic moan that was threatening to rip its way out of you.

“Uncover your mouth, or I’ll tie your hands up.” Jake threatened, drawing his arm back to release another blow to your ass.

The stinging burn returned again within seconds, making you wince and moan at the same time.

“Ja- Jake,” you stuttered, feeling your resolve crumbling quicker than you could save it.

“Does this feel good?” Jake spat, whipping the belt against your ass again.

“F-fuck! Yes!” you admitted breathlessly, head dropping down as you gripped Jake’s thigh.

“Oh, of course it does.” Jake scoffed, with yet another crack of his belt. “I would expect nothing less from you. Such a little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out through gritted teeth.

You heard the sound of Jake’s belt hitting the wall and jumped slightly, his hand coming down against the red, blistering area of your ass.

“Jake, please!“ You pleaded, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Please what, bitch? Go on, beg for what you want.” He taunted, as if he was really going to grant you whatever you beg for.

“Tell me why I should fuck you.” He demanded, taunting your entrance with two of his fingers.

“No,” you refused stubbornly.

Jake grabbed you up in his arms, stood up and tossed you down on the bed with a loud crack ringing out from beneath the mattress.

“Fuck it,” Jake hissed, climbing over you.

It was then you had realized the slight dip in the middle as he got on top of you.

“Did you just brea-“

“Yes and I said fuck it.” Jake cut you off, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He bit down on it harshly, eliciting a choked moan from you.

You arched up into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging roughly. Jake groaned, biting even harder down on your other nipple.

Jake released it, trailing sloppy kisses down your stomach.

He bit into your hip, sucking a hickey into the skin there, before finally moving the rest of the way down to your aching core.

“You don’t wanna beg me?” Jake questioned, looking up at you with dark eyes. “Well, you will once my mouth is wrapped around your clit and I’m telling you not to cum.”

“I-I doubt that. No way in hell you can make me beg.” You held Jake’s eyes as he placed a kiss just above your clit, knowing good and well that once Jake’s mouth was on you, it was gonna be hard to keep up this little act of yours.

“Okay. Your words, sweetheart.” Jake chuckled lowly. “Your words.”

Splaying a hand over each of your thighs, Jake shoved your legs further apart. His mouth hovered over you, smirking to himself as he watched your cunt clench around nothing.

You stared up at the ceiling, breath catching on every other intake. The anticipation and uneven breathing was already making you dizzy.

Jake licked teasingly from your entrance up to your clit, just barely flicking it a few times with his tongue. He was holding back on purpose, wanting to prolong your torture even more.

You breathed in and out heavily, already fighting back the urge to let his name tumble off your lips.

Jake’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it with more force than what his previous actions had been. Your hips bucked up into his mouth involuntarily and you immediately looked down to see Jake’s reaction. He was smiling cockily against you, his arm snaking over your hips to keep you in place.

“So desperate already.” Jake taunted, his free hand coming down to tease at your entrance. He watched your face for any sort of reaction as he sunk two fingers into you. Meeting his intense stare, you gulped down the moan that was bubbling up to the back of your throat.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” Jake said through gritted teeth.

Curling his fingers inside you, he searched for your sweet spot. His mouth found your clit again, eating you out with a mind blowing level of determination.

After no more than a minute of Jake’s mouth eating you out like you were his first meal in days, you were finding it extremely difficult to keep yourself quiet. Jake’s fingers worked at your sweet spot steadily, every so often sinking them in even deeper to beckon you closer to the edge, prodding into a spot you didn’t even know was there. He kept you just shy of your orgasm for what felt like forever, not letting you get quite there; keeping you just close enough to let that dull burn in the pit of your stomach drive you crazy.

“Jake,” you whimpered, chest heaving rapidly.

He payed you absolutely no mind - Ignoring you entirely, continuing to unravel you with his fingers and mouth.

“Make me cum, Jake.” You tried to demand, but he ignored you once again. The frustration building inside you was easily enough to make you cry. “J-Jake.” You tried to repeat firmly.

“No.” Jake pulled away from you, replacing his mouth with his thumb.

You rolled your hips, trying to press his thumb harder into your clit.

“You want it, slut? What did I say you had to do?”

You let out an annoyed groan. “I said I’m not begging you, Kiszka.”

“Then I guess you’re not gonna get off tonight.” Jake smirked, digging his fingers deeper into you. “Not like I care anyways.”

Deciding to play dirty, Jake sped up his fingers inside you and his thumb over clit, quickly bringing you right up to the edge.

“Jake- Jake, Jake!” you repeated, your skin tingling, orgasm mere seconds away from taking over you.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Jake stopped his assault on your clit, but didn’t remove his fingers from you. Instead pressing into your sweet spot mercilessly, letting you throb around his fingers.

“I.. fucking hate you...” you squirmed, desperately trying to move his fingers off that spot inside you.

“You don’t mean that,” He teased sarcastically, shooting you a fake smile.

His thumb returned to your clit once again and your whole body jolted under his touch.

“Aren’t you just the cutest?” Jake cooed in a faux caring voice. “Trying to act like I have absolutely no effect on you… Like you ACTUALLY hate me.”

“I do actually h-hate you,” You scoffed, squeezing your eyes shut. “And you hate me.”

Jake huffed a laugh through his nose, eyes racking over your body as it twitched and grew warmer and warmer beneath him. Whether he would still “hate” you after this was to be determined in his mind.

Tangling your hands in the comforter of Jake’s bed, you let out a quiet whine as he hurled you back towards another orgasm.

“Aww, is my stubborn little slut getting close?” Jake slowed his fingers and more of your stubborn act crumbled away as he let another orgasm fall away.

“Jake, please…” You muttered quietly.

Jake raised a brow at you, leaning over your body with his face inches from yours.

“Mm, I didn’t catch that, baby girl.”

“You heard me.” You sassed, meeting his eyes boldly.

“Maybe I did,” Jake whispered against your cheek. His hand abandoned your hip and wrapped around you throat. “But I want you to say it again.”

“You… you’ve gotta do better than that, Jake.”

Jake pulled his fingers out of you and before you could even protest, they were being shoved into your mouth without any warning.

“Keep running this little mouth.” Jake growled, his hand that was holding down your hip, now wrapping securely around your throat. “Please, keep it up. I’ll take you back downstairs to that party, bend you down over that beer pong table and fuck you dumb in front of everyone.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly. You watched Jake lean back, popping the button of his jeans and shoving them down his legs. He tossed them off somewhere on his bedroom floor, along with his boxers and leaned over to his nightstand, picking up his bottle of whiskey. You couldn’t help but to stare at his size, noting how painfully hard he looked. For some reason, it just struck you by surprise that he was maybe enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Maybe one day everyone can watch me hate-fuck you completely stupid-” Jake started, moving back over top of you, with his bottle in hand. “-But for now, they just get to listen.”

Bringing the bottle to his lips, he tipped his head back along with it. He pulled the bottle away just as quickly as he had brought it up to his lips, his mouth still full of the dark liquor.

Jake’s other hand went up to your face and his thumb played with your bottom lip. When you didn’t quite catch his drift, his whole hand collided with your cheek.

Your mouth fell open immediately, releasing an uncontrollable moan and Jake took that as his chance. He lined his mouth up above yours, sending a stream of liquor directly into your mouth.

Jake watched your mouth close slowly, a small droplet of liquor dripping down the side of your mouth. “Swallow it.”

The Whiskey burned delightfully as it traveled down your throat, warning you up from the inside out - as if you weren’t already hot enough.

You opened your mouth up for Jake, showing him that you had swallowed it all.

“Nice to know you can actually fucking listen..” He mumbled, taking a drink from the bottle himself, before leaning over to the nightstand and sitting it back down.

Jake took himself in his hand, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he tended to his throbbing cock.

You watched him with hooded eyes, mouth watering at the pre cum leaking from him.

Hooking a leg over his hip, Jake lined himself up at your entrance. He just barely pushed himself in, pulling back out completely and running himself through your folds. He repeated the action a few times, eyes locked on where his cock was teasing you.

“I hope you can fuck better than you play beer pong, Jakey.” You quipped boldly without really thinking, watching his face harden.

With a sharp thrust, Jake filled you up completely. You moaned loudly at the unexpected stretch of him filling you up, gripping at his forearms on either side of your head.

“Why are you moaning already??” Jake taunted questioningly, drawing back and slamming his hips back into yours. “That’s an awfully bold thing to say, for someone who’s already moaning for me.”

“Jesus christ, Jake!” You choked out,

eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yeah? What is it, baby girl? Hmm?” Jake cooed as if he really cared, punctuating his words with another deep thrust. “Does it feel good when I go this deep?”

“J-Jake- Fucking, please!” You begged, feeling him brush against places inside you that no one had ever reached before.

“Please, what??” Jake pried in a low tone, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging it roughly. “Look at you… My stubborn little whore is falling apart, isn’t she?”

His repeated use of “My” made your head spin.

Jake’s lips connected with your neck and he settled into a faster pace, fucking into you mercilessly.

“I think you might need a little more of an incentive than this, don’t you?”

Jake bit at your earlobe, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t- I don’t need.. anything from you.” You moaned out, trying to hold onto what little bit of hate and defiance you had left.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, but-“

Jake’s hands found the backs of your knees and pushed them back until they were almost touching your chest. He went right back into his previous pace and an embarrassingly loud moan flew from your mouth.

“Yeah, there we go…” Jake smirked proudly.

Hooking his arms around your legs, he reached up to the headboard, giving himself even better leverage.

“Slow d-down, I-Can’t! I can’t, Jake!” Your hands found the backs of his shoulders, digging your nails in and dragging them across his skin.

An animalistic groan erupted from him and you could see the muscles throughout his arms tense, as he gripped the metal bed frame until his knuckles were white.

Feeling something wet on the tips of yours fingers, you brought on of your hands to his chest to see what it was, noticing the faint trails of red your fingertips left behind.

“Damn it, Y/N-“ Jake hissed, letting out another loud groan.

The two of you could without a doubt be heard by his brothers and all your friends downstairs. Especially you.

You could feel the familiar burn return to the pit of your stomach and in light of not wanting to have your orgasm ripped away for the fourth time, you decided not to tell Jake.

“Is that how good I make you feel? Enough for you to make me fucking bleed??” Jake asked you, fighting back his knowing smirk when you started to clench tighter around him. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

“N-no,” you lied, whining when Jake’s pace slowed down.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” Jake warned. “You CAN’T lie to me.”

Jake slowed almost to a complete stop, only giving you a halfhearted thrust ever few seconds. He let your legs down, resting his on one of his forearms above you. Sneaking his other arm between your bodies, he traced you stomach teasingly.

“I bet you’re just aching right here, aren’t you?” Jake’s tone was dripping in faux sympathy. He watched you breathe in and out heavily, tiny whimpers leaving your lips on every release.

“Please, Jake… it hurts..” It wasn’t a lie. As pleasurable of an ache as it may have been at first, it was starting to drive you up the wall.

“You know what you have to do, then.” Jake reminded you. “”Please, Jake” Isn’t good enough.”

Jake’s thumb swept over your clit and you reached for his wrist to tear his hand away. “I can do this all night, baby girl.” He whispered as he started to slowly fuck in and out of you again and you cried out.

“I know, I know… It just feels so good and you wanna cum.” Jake goaded, working his way back up to his previous pace, with the added stimulation of his thumb.

“So pathetic and greedy. Beg for it, slut.”

“Let me cum, Jake, please! Fucking tell me I can,” you pleaded, fucked out and whiny.

Jake’s thumb pressed into your clit harder and you caved, dangerously close to coming undone around him.

“Okay, okay! Jake, please please please!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you gasped to fill your lungs with air.

“Let me cum, please, I need it so bad! I give in- Please, Jake!”

Jake moaned, satisfied enough by your begging. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you. Before you could even protest, he pulled you on top of him and lined you up with his cock. You sunk down on him with a pathetic cry of bliss and over-sensitivity.

“You wanna cum so bad? Get yourself off, then, slut.” Jake commanded, guiding your hips. “Make a mess like the little whore you are, c’mon.”

You leaned forward and gripped Jake’s shoulders, making him suck on a breath through his teeth at the twinge of pain your nails caused.

“I’m not getting you off, so you better do it yourself if you wanna cum.” Jake rasped into your ear and he reached up, taking one of your wrists in his hand. He placed your hand where your bodies’ were joined, holding it there with a firm grip.

You rubbed quick circles into your clit, not giving a single fuck about Jake’s refusal to get you off himself - Even though he was the whole reason you were so close in the first place. It got him off just to watch you fall apart above him, forcing you to do it yourself just to be an ass, yet still knowing he was a main source of pleasure.

“Please, Jake can I cum?? Please, I can’t… I can’t-“

“Cum for me, baby girl. Be a filthy little whore and make a mess all over me.” Jake’s hand reached up to your hair, tugging it until you were staring at the ceiling.

As though your body was just waiting for those words from him, you spiraled into your orgasm within seconds.

Your back arched and if it weren’t for Jake’s other hand abandoning your wrist and supporting your back, you would have fallen backwards. Your vision blurred around the edges and you could only faintly hear yourself screaming Jake’s name.

Jake, mere seconds away from his own high, lifted you off of himself and moved you to sit on his thigh. He jerked himself off until he came all over his stomach, a raspy groan of your name falling gracefully off of his lips. It was the first time you had heard your name ever sound like that coming from him. Certainly a sound to be cherished.

Your hands held onto his hips as you shakily tried to keep yourself upright.

Jake’s head laid back against his pillows and his eyes were closed, focused on calming himself down.

“Jake…” You whispered his name hesitantly.

One of his eyes popped open and closed a second later. “Hmm?”

“Where are my clothes?”

It was a dumb question… You knew they were scattered around his room. You asked for the sole purpose of trying to find an out, assuming he was going to kick you out at any moment anyway.

“Why?” Jake asked, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Well i- i figured you…” You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to even say. “..You would want me to like… lea-“

“And who said I was done with you?” Jake smirked, giving you a mischievous look.

“You’re not going anywhere yet.”

@jordierama @shutupdevvie @ageofbarbarians @positivegvfthings @greta-van-chaos @theweightofjake @jake-kiszkas-smirk @earthlysorrows @writingcold @lo-pe-ak

829 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 23 days

Text

Phic Phight - The Little Toaster Who Could, Is An Asshole

@lovelyunknown @princessfanonanona @fangirlwriting-stories @fentoaster @axion-labs @turtlesnails @littlebadger

Toaster powers go! Terrorise the half-dead teen that hates toast! He deserves it! According to Wes at least.

Wes glares at Danny, Danny stares back in unbridled glee.

Wes flips him off, Danny flips him off right back… before doing double finger guns and sticking out his tongue.

Wes slams down the notebook he’d been using in an attempt to ‘write down’ his ‘proof’, not that written shit counted for shit with any of this shit, pointing aggressively at Danny; Danny points at himself too just very mockingly.

“Would you two stop making all my staff laugh? They have jobs to do and you’re half way to me just kicking you out”.

Wes rounds on the manager or owner lady, “but he is dead! He threw eggs at me! Invisible eggs!”.

Danny’s grin from the front doorway is a bit manic, “where would I even get invisible eggs! Huh Wes! Ever think about that one!”.

“Fuck you!”.

“Fuck yourself!”.

“You dated a damn harpy!”.

“Are you saying I unalived my own eggs!”.

“Why are you censoring yourself!”.

“Because you’re a weak little baby boy bitch!”.

“We are the SAME AGE!”.

“Say that to time daddy’s face! I dare you!”.

The owner lady throws her hands up, snapping, “out! Get out!”, at Wes.

Wes looks afronted, because he is, “what? Just me?!”, gesturing at Danny aggressively, “him????”.

She sighs, “he’s not actually inside my store, you are. Out”. She’s thankfully when Wes actually leaves, even if the teen hurls his ‘research’ at the Fenton boy first and runs after the Fenton kid when said Fenton starts sticking the notebook in his mouth and shaking his head back and forth like a feral dog.

There was something very wrong with both of those boys. Something very very wrong. The Fenton boy was definitely not dead though, that would be far too normal for a Fenton so unhinged.

Wes grabs the end of his notebook, Danny does not stop shaking his head though, resulting in Wes’s lanky ass getting flung and smacked around. Danny intentionally makes his mouth frothy for added rabies effect. Making Wes have to shake off, and pull a tooth out of, his notebook once he does successfully rip it out of Danny’s mouth. “Your existence is a crime and affront to god”.

Danny open mouth grins cheerily, “I thought I already established that the day I was reborn into death”.

Wes immediately writes that ‘quote’ down in his book.

Danny stares judgingly, “are you writing all my word weavy bullshit down? Really? That’s kinda sad, man”.

Wes scowls back, “that’s the thirty-second different way you’ve described being dead, one day that will add up and people won’t be able to deny me”.

“You’re gonna be great for my Wikipedia article one day, when you work for me as my maid”.

“Fuck you”.

“It’s still easier for you to fuck yourself you know”.

Wes tackles him, “oh how I wish someone else had to see you and your bullshit!”.

Danny scowls with feeling, slapping Wes a couple of times as they roll around on the ground getting muddy as fuck since it was raining out, “why would you say that! The curs-ed word! Banishment to the sinner! Boo!”.

“BOO YOURSELF!”.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT’S MY LINE!”.

“YOU STARTED IT, I’LL FINISH IT!”.

“YOU CAN’T FINISH THE EXISTENCE OF A PHRASE YOU DIPSHIT!”.

“JUST LIKE YOU COULDN'T FINISH OFF YOURSELF PROPERLY!”.

Danny snarls, “I’m going to break you like a toothpick”, and pins Wes down using more arms than humanly possible.

Wes wishes he had his camera.

Wes does not have his camera.

At least Danny’s stupid ass ain’t heavy enough to break his ribs. “You weigh less than a bag of potatoes, go ahead and try”.

Now if Wes was a ghost, and thus could just reform a torn off limb, Danny would actually break his arm. But Wes is human and thus can’t do that. Meaning Danny can’t do that to him. Oh the woes of being morally in the right. If Wes were Vlad and a billionaire then Danny’d just burn down his house in recompense. Is he mentally using the word wildly wrong? Mostly likely, shut up Jazz.

Besides, Vlad would take the arson as a compliment and praise him.

Wes huffs, tired, “are you going to clean me off or not?”. Danny smirks and turns the teen intangible, all the muck falling through the teen… as well as all of his clothing except his underwear. Danny running off immediately while sticking his tongue out and cackling; all while Wes is scrambling up off the ground, wadding his re-soaked muddy clothes up, and hurling them after Danny.

They nail Danny in the head, making the stupid half-ghost face-plant into a streetlight. Wes shouting, “HA!”.

But Danny scrambles up himself, grabs the clothing, and holds them above his head, “mine now bitch! THE SPOILS OF WAR BELONG TO THE VICTOR!”.

Leaving Wes huffing, panting, by himself, slowly realizing that now he has to walk home muddy and practically naked… “Zone DAMN IT PHANTOM!”.

Danny, in distance, can be heard shouting, “GET WRECKED!”, by more than a handful of people. Everyone and their mother knowing that means the Fenton and Weston kids had gone at it again.

Danny floats down through the rarely used ‘attic’ grinning to himself, he felt like he accomplished a lot today. Looking around for an empty box, he is absolutely packaging up Wes’s clothes -without washing them- and mailing them through the post back to him. They were gonna be rank when the guy opened it up. Ha! What fun!

Transforming back as he finds a suitable box and some packing tape; dropping the clothing in unceremoniously with a feral grin.

Unfortunately it looks like today’s tomfuckery wasn’t quite done with him, as a voice he’s never heard (he thinks) shouts, “oh what the freshy fruity fuck!”.

Danny jumping up and spinning around, right, fuck, Wes saying a stupid wish. Fucking asshole! He should know better! And of course Danny would have been too distracted tormenting Wes to have noticed his ghost sense going off. Ancients end him entirely.

Thing is though? There’s no one. Like, actually no one, “what the?”. Oh is someone spying on him again? Someone who’s not Vlad?

And whom probably doesn’t have positive-ish motives for it?

That would be his luck after all.

The voice pipes back up again, “how the Hell do I! Me! Find this massive crap out! Are you always so pissy wissy with your shitty shit!”.

Danny starts pushing stuff around to figure out where the Zone the Voice is coming from.

It’s…

It’s a fucking toaster???

A TOASTER?????

The toaster seems disgruntled, the toaster flings itself at Danny’s face.

Danny promptly swats it into a wall.

Why is a toaster talking to him? How is a toaster talking to him? It attacked him! Sure that last part wasn’t super weird since Technus assaulted him with random appliances all the time, but still.

“Oh cool, a wall, as if being a toaster wasn’t hard enough”.

“Why are you talking?! How!”.

The toaster flops from side to side in a weird version of walking at Danny vaguely aggressively, “oh you know, only your happy pappy toasterifying me for the fuckin’ lolly lols or some somersault shit”, it uses its cord to throw a picture frame vaguely in Danny’s direction. Apparently the toaster had some pent up rage.

Fair.

So did Danny.

Danny side steps the picture frame, “and when did he do this? How even? You are like a whole ass person in there?”.

The toaster seems infuriated, slapping its cord around, “of course I am, numbnuts! I wasn’t born as no tinker toy bullshit! Who the fuck would give birth to a toaster!”, the toaster spits toast at him.

Danny is highly offended. He really hates toast.

Like if the universe had created one true evil it would be in the form of toast and only toast. Always toast. “Don’t spit toast at me! You absolute heathen!”.

“I’ll spit what I diddly darn wanna! Fuck you! I’m your upperclassman any ways, Fenton! So deally wheelly!”.

Oh ancients his dad turned one of his classmates into a fucking toaster. A toaster that’s spitting more roasted toast at him likely out of spite. Danny impales a piece into the wall with an ice spear.

The toaster snares, “don’t abuse my creations!”.

“Like Hell I won’t! Fuck toast!”, Danny tries tackling the toaster, it uses its cord to grab on to a lamp and effectively flee from Danny’s would be constrictive grasp. Danny shouting, “do you want to be detoasted or not!”.

“Oh it’s too late for that, you douchey canoey! Your poopy poppy sold that ‘ish to a Cullen Family wannabe actor with rich sauce for flavouring!”

Fucking Vlad! Ancients. Danny swears that, the sometimes vaguely evil, ‘mentor’/‘uncle’ of his gets into more weird shit than Danny did. And Danny’s the one who more or less infected an entire town with death, so that’s a feat and a half. Danny grinning, “I know that cash money bitch, I can take you there if you!”, another piece of toast is fired off, “just!”, more toast spit, “stop!”, again! Toast!, “assaulting!”, more toast, “me!”, you guessed it! Toast, “with!”, annnnnnd TOAST, “toast!”.

The toaster growls, it sounds like the metal shit inside it is clanging around violently, but Danny does manage to tackle it and walk through the attic wall all while holding it at arms length like it’s a bomb.

More than a couple people see the Fenton boy just… walking down the street screaming shrieking practically incoherently at a toaster he’s holding as far away from himself as possible; the toaster is firing toast haphazardly into the air and shaking wildly every so often… as if there’s some kind of demonic possession fuelled conversation going on.

Absolutely no one approaches to ask. And that was only partly because a random construction worker got thrown by the toaster cord at one point.

One person did shout, “watcha got there?!?”, at the teen though. Who had just responded with, “A SMOOTHIE! AN ANGRY TOAST SMOOTHIE!”.

Wes saw a video of it, Wes cackled meanly. He might have had an embarrassing walk home but at least he had a new phone background photo.

Danny hurls the toaster at the door in lieu of knocking, at least his coordination does not suck and he catches the toaster as it bounces back at him. The toaster shrieking, “I will bake you like a crispy spaghetti bolognese!”.

“Are you a fucking toaster or an oven!”.

“I’m a McHeaty McMaddy bitch either way!”.

Vlad opens the door with, “‘Maddie’?”, he is clearly extremely confused.

Danny grumbling, figures, “of course you heard the ‘maddy’ part and no not mom, this thing just speaks like a fucking lunatic”, and practically shoves the toaster at Vlad’s chest, “here, I… I need your help. I have a sentient toaster, that knows I’m vaguely dead-ish, ‘cause I do not look out for fucking toasters when transforming and shit”.

The toaster vibrates against Vlad’s chest and fancy suit, “then you’re a stupidy stopidy bibidy bopidy fool!”. Vlad looks offended.

Fucking good, honestly. Danny huffing and continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted, “and apparently Jack toasterified this toaster that used to not be a toaster and instead be a person, and apparently mailed a ‘Cullen Family actor wannabe with rich sauce for flavouring’ -which must be you- the invention dad did this with because he no longer, and I quote, ‘trusty-wustied him selfie-welfie’. Please tell me you have more tolerance for toaster spit than I do”.

Vlad sighs heavily, it’s both fond and annoyed. The man lets him and the toaster in at least.

Of course then the toaster instantly flees from his grasp. Like a dick.

Both him and Vlad just watch the thing fling itself around the mansion with its cord and ‘feet’. Vlad blinking, “this is somehow the strangest thing I’ve ever had to help you with”.

“I know right?”.

…”why is it a toaster?”, the toaster attempts to toast some of Vlad‘s paperwork, it unfortunately works. “I’ll admit to not believing that odd letter Jack sent about making a teenage toaster, I regret that decision deeply”.

“That’s fair”.

They both have to rush to put out the fire the toaster’s started, Danny shouting, “there is something seriously wrong with you!”.

“I’VE BEEN A TOASTER FOR A YEAR! HOW WOULD YOU FUCKY WHUCKY FEELY ABOUT THAT!”.

Danny nods acceptingly while chasing the thing, “I’d cry”. It’s true. He would.

Vlad actually laughs while helping with the chase, “yes the horror of being something that near exclusively creates your one true hate and fear”.

“Says the alcoholic!”.

“I thought you liked drinking with me?”.

Danny stops and shrugs at the man, “I mean yeah, but you kinda got a bit of an issue that we should probably sort out some day”, eyeing the toaster sucking in one of the portraits Vlad had done of them together. Vlad was going to kill this toaster at this rate, and fuck Danny might let him. “Preferably not now though, Sweet Ancients”.

Vlad hits the toaster with a broom, “bad! No! You spit that out right now!”.

“It’s not a cat, Vlad”.

“Well then it should not behave like one”.

The toaster escapes from the broom, knocking over a fancy glass top table shaped like a jaguar.

Danny grumbling and slipping on some glass, “at least it can’t vomit a painting up like a fucking hairball!”.

“I would absolutely make you clean that up, consider it a lesson on responsibility”.

“I do enough chores at home, Vladdie!”.

“And how many times have I offered to come and help?”.

“And how many times have I told you the labs too dangerous?”. Danny glares at the toaster as it bounces up and down on a fancy keurig, “hey! Leave the superior appliance alone!”. The coffee machine blows up.

“Die coffeefee!”

Oh yeah, fuck this toaster majorly. It spits more toast at Danny as if hearing his mental insult.

Vlad rolls up his sleeves, hands glowing some and stalking ominous after the feral machine. Danny throwing a pillow at him and at the toaster, a couple cat toys going sailing as well; one goes right into the toaster even. “Don’t actually kill it! That’s a person! Unfortunately!”.

“Y’all couldn’t killy billy me even if ya tried anyway!”.

“Do you want to die!”.

Vlad frowns at Danny, “somethings do, in fact, deserve to die. This is one of them”.

“No!”.

Ah say hello to the one thing neither of them can ever actually agree upon. Meanwhile the fucking toaster jingles, cat toy must have had a bell on it then.

Maddie the cat comes out of nowhere and bodily tackles the toaster, batting at it wildly.

She desires her toy. It has her toy. It will now be her toy!

The toaster shrieks and waddles away on its ‘feet’ rapidly, Maddie the cat smacking the ground after it trying to attack its cord, butt wiggling and paws flailing.

Vlad looks incredibly proud, “atta girl, Maddie”. Hell, even Danny’s incredibly proud, what a good cat. Fluffy and ferocious.

Vlad absolutely punts the toaster into the corner of wall mounted oil candle when it tries to shoot Maddie the cat with toast. Snarling, “I will end you”. Unfortunately he’s not quick enough with the ecto-blast to even singe the thing. It was one fast toaster.

Danny putting his hands on his knees and wheezing, toaster assaulting the chandelier, “how, how are we, getting the runaround, by a, by a fucking, toaster?”.

Vlad huffing with his hands on his hips, “when is anything your father messes with easy to resolve?”.

“Never?”.

“That’s what I thought”.

“Fuck, you”.

“I love you too Daniel”.

“Ancients you are, a weird uncle”.

“And you’re a weird godson”.

Which was probably the only reason this mentorship shit even worked at all. Both of them were way too fucking weird. Everything around them was always way too fucking weird.

Case and point?

The toaster managed to unhook the chandelier, which has now crashed down to the ground in a hail of tiny expensive diamonds.

But Maddie the cat is on a mission. A mission that shall not be deterred by any mess or wonton destruction. She bites the toasters cord and flings it around wildly like it’s a mouse she’s playing with.

A mouse she will keep playing with until it dies and stops moving.

She flings it up in the air and catches it by the cord again, regardless of the toaster trying to avoid that. “MAKE THE BATTY’S CATTY STOP!”.

“No”.

“Naw”.

To be fair, it was kind of hilarious. And Vlad and Danny were telekinetically moving anything sharp out of Maddie the cat’s way so she wouldn’t get hurt while she had her fun.

“Maybe I like being a toaster! Ever think about that!”

Both Vlad and Danny give simultaneous deadpanned, “why?”’s.

Maddie the cat flops herself on the toaster body, its cord still in her mouth, as she purrs happily and swishes her tail around lazily. She doesn’t look like she has any intention of releasing the toaster.

So the two halfa’s walk over and stare down at the toaster. The toaster pipes up dejectedly, “okay maybe that was a lie. I am angry and touch starved”.

“Fuckin’ mood”.

“That I can understand, to a degree”.

Danny and Vlad eye each other before both chuckling fondly.

“…help?”.

Maddie the cat purrs loudly.

Vlad smirks down at the thing, “oh I don’t know about that, Maddie looks quite content were she is”.

“I concur”.

Vlad blinks and grins wide, “glad to see your vocabularies improved”.

“You hired me a tutor, how couldn’t it?”.

“Money well spent, then”.

“HELLO! You CUCKY DUCKY’S gonna HELP!”.

Vlad makes a face, “I think you’d benefit from a tutor as well”, straightening his suit, and huffing, “but very well, I suppose”.

Danny chuckling, “I’ll keep an eye on murder mittens and her prey”. More so for Maddie the cat’s well being and not the toaster from Satan’s asshole’s well being.

…

Vlad gets the thing Jack mailed him, he never threw out anything Daniel’s parents sent him, in case he one day needed to use it to prove their neglect to outright abuse in a court of law. Someday CPS was going to have a field day with the case of a lifetime and then some.

Danny glances at the… rubber duck? As Vlad comes back over. “What?”.

Vlad rubs his forehead, “I was confused as well. It actually gets worse, some how”. Vlad bops the things on the head, causing it to inflate into a twenty foot tall rubber duck.

The toaster snarls, “damn you, ducky fucky! Damn you!”.

Danny picks Maddie the cat up off of the toaster while making ‘I’m watching you’ motions with his free hand at the toaster.

The toaster, knowing it’s beat and fearing the cat, does not move.

Vlad picks up the massive duck and drops it on the toaster, it absorbs the toaster and promptly spits a teenager out of its beak. The teenager landing on his back in a crumbled heap.

Danny blinks, “what the fuck dad? I have way too many questions”. The teen coughs up a jingly ball cat toy and Maddie the cat launches herself out of Danny’s arm at the ball as it rolls away; fluffy legs trying to carry her faster than she can go.

The teen stands up, hunched over with his limbs all spread apart like he’s attempting to take a fighting pose while also being extremely grossed out.

Danny blinks, “sooooo, you gonna tell anyone?”. Vlad sighs in exasperation.

The teen slowly looks to Danny, who gives him a hopeful look. “Fucking why? I got turned into a toaster, accosted two deady teddy’s, beat up by a cat, and vomited out of a duck. Ain’t no one believing shit dick all”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s fair. Wes tries but everyone thinks he’s crazy and he ain’t claiming shit that weird”.

The teen raises an eyebrow at him, still having not moved any other part of him a single inch, “ya got another fucker who found out and is now trying to exposey woosey you? Ha! You suck”.

“Fuck you”.

Vlad ruffles Danny’s hair, “and my offer to sue the boy into silence or provide hush money still stands”.

“I’m kinda having fun with it honestly”.

“I’ve noticed, and support you terrorizing him entirely”.

The teen spits out a toast on to the floor, looks down and stares at it, then does it again. More toast flopping onto the floor, “huh. Yeah no. Fuck this shit I’m out”, and waddles back and forth out the front door like he still can’t move his legs.

…

Danny sighs slowly, “dad is so going to have to write an apology letter to that kid”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “that man couldn’t be bothered to send me a single generic ‘get well soon’ card, you know he won’t do that”.

“Ugh”.

Danny absolutely has to get Jazz to write the apology letter, because Danny’s still to miffed about the toast assault to not come off as incredibly snide. Danny also collects as many toasts from Vlad’s place as he could and promptly dumped them on Wes in his sleep; he also finally mailed the box of muddy clothes.

The teen, meanwhile, absolutely spits toast at Jack the next time he sees the elder Fenton, it is absolutely caught on video. Said teen also turned out to be on the football team, which in typical Casper-high fashion, accepted him back on the team immediately. The Raven’s opponents were not prepared for the feral ex-toaster or his toast-related cruelty. Dash also later high-fived Danny, in the face, with a slice of toast as ‘gift’; Danny bit him without hesitation.

End.

PRompts: Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible. "Whatch'a got there?" "A smoothie" An unexpected person finds out Danny’s identity. (By unexpected I mean less his parents or Mr Lancer and more like, Star. Or Aunt Alicia. The more out there the better.) "I..I need your help." BadgerCereal Maybe Danny had been having a bit too much fun taunting Wes and even transforming in front of him. It was definitely coming back to bite him now…To be fair though, no one knew Desiree was right there. Maddie (the cat) saves the day Anything Badger Cereal (Vlad and Danny platonic father/son , mentor/apprentice )

13 notes · View notes

tw-episodereactions · 8 months

Text

Teen Wolf 1x12

Ah, yes, Chris honking at Scott instead of aiming a weapon at him is totally in character. We shall honk to warn this creature off, despite the fact that we’ve been stalking him for eleven episodes.

Lol, Peter just walks off like Stiles will do exactly as he’s told. Please don’t have Stiles do exactly as he’s told. Have him text Jackson and Danny to track down Scott’s cell and then tell Scott about it.

See? The woods are like two steps away from the school and it would have been a lot harder for the police and Argent’s to track Derek in the woods than on the streets in that one episode.

Allison’s reaction after Scott runs is approximately forty seconds long, some slow motion, mostly in close up with one long shot.

Scott’s reaction is approximately forty seconds long, some slow motion, mostly in long shot with one close up that almost immediately dollies back to a long shot.

And the one close up is on the scream instead of the sobbing.

Why do they keep making these choices to de-emphasize Scott’s pain/anguish/trauma? Like, it’s weird, right? It’s not just me?

Like, from the beginning they’ve been telling this story about how being treated like a monster doesn’t make you one. Pretty much every character, with the exceptions of Allison, Melissa, and Deaton have treated Scott like a monster, a pawn, a tool, a thing to be used. Some to more extent than others, but even Stiles has treated Scott like that on several occasions.

And the story seems to be trying to show us at every turn how Scott refuses to be used. Refuses at every turn to cast aside his humanity and descend into a mindless, angry thing that the Hales want him to be and the Argents expect him to be. The storyline, the dialogue, the acting all support this. But half the time the shots don’t, and it’s driving me nuts, honestly.

Does Jackson actually care about Lydia now too? My headcanon where he got empathic bleed from Scott is holding up, I see.

Oh. Menstruation jokes about a teenage girl from a grown man is definitely not gross and creepy and demeaning. I guess that’s one characterization they haven’t screwed up yet.

Okay, so, 1) it’s interesting that Chris recognized what Kate was doing but didn’t stop it, 2) it’s interesting that Kate was the one to volunteer to come instead of Chris bringing her in like I thought, and 3) Chris, buddy. You fucking chose to try to run Scott over and have him turn in front of your daughter, Kate wasn’t even there. Take ownership of your own fucking actions, my dude.

Lol, Kate, you’re usually a better liar than that. ALSO, I still haven’t heard how the school janitor was connected so until we do he’s an innocent victim.

And now we also know that Kate’s actions with the fire either weren’t sanctioned by Chris - most likely - or weren’t sanctioned within the hunting community at all. I’m still trying to figure out the hierarchy of the hunters, and how big the family/network is.

Now that Allison is in the know maybe we’ll learn more, but even with two born werewolves we’ve learned shit about that culture so I’m not holding my breath.

It makes no sense that he’s sending Kate with Allison unless he just wants Kate out of the way. Mrs. Argent would seem like a better choice in several respects, not the least of which she hasn’t been going behind Chris’ back with Allison already. Also, bro, Kate ain’t exactly the comforting type and your kid needs comfort right now.

Okay, so her mother clearly isn’t the comforting type either. Are we saying that Allison get her compassion from Chris? Oh boy.

They keep mentioning the ‘moral code’ they have, but not giving us details. I mean, it’s apparent that Kate doesn’t follow it, and clearly others are willing to bend it. But even the “good” ones like Chris still try to rile up werewolves into going past a specific line in the sand.

Hunters are just a bunch of cops, huh? No accountability, protect their own over anyone else, instigate werewolves to violence so that they can feel justified in killing them.

So I guess he did steal Jennifer’s car. Still doesn’t make sense how he and Derek got to the school before Stiles when they presumably left at least ten minutes after him, but whatever. Also, did Derek kill the nurse when he hit her in the face? There was definitely a lot of blood. And this now makes (at least) two people not associated with the fire that got murdered.

Scott going to the vet is a good fucking call and he should have done it sooner. He should, perhaps, actually call Deaton though because he’s like the only one who’s been both compassionate enough and capable enough to help you.

So, like, Allison doesn’t know who to believe, and I get that. Her family says they love her, but they’ve been lying to her. Scott says he loves her but he’s been lying to her. It’s hard to figure out who to trust.

Out of curiosity, though. How is Scott able to get past the Mountain Ash? Is it just because he’s got a key to the back, and never goes out the front? Did it only get added after Deaton was kidnapped by Derek or maybe it only works on Alphas? So many questions!

Hey, look, we actually got close up on Scott’s grief that actually lasted about the same amount of time as someone else’s! It can be done!

Well, I see the family resemblance between Derek and Peter now.

Oh. Hey. A cop being shitty? Weird. Like, fuck, dude, Jackson’s a goddamn asshole, but a) you don’t know anything about that, b) he’s a fucking minor, and c) you have no idea what the fuck happened or how traumatized he might have been. And, like, none of the other cops with him are pulling him back? Jesus Christ.

Aside from how it makes sense cause cops are just generally shitty, why the fuck would he act like that about two kids we’ve never really seen him interact with? Either he’s got something against Jackson or he’s weirdly protective over Lydia and both of those options creep me out a little.

No, no, don’t bother apologizing to the kid you manhandled for no reason.

“Only the responsible ones,” Peter says, ignoring the dead body literally underneath where Stiles is typing. And the janitor. Can’t forget that guy.

Stiles trying to protect Scott is nice, if futile.

Scott gets his terrible security protocols from his mother. But at least his was passively bad, while hers was actively bad. I still can’t believe she just let Jackson use her computer like that.

Also, his is not, you know, illegal criminally or civilly with criminal consequences that could include termination, up to $50,000 in fines, and a prison sentence.

I’m sorry, but did this fucking show give us a guy who not only knows about werewolves but feels totally secure standing up to one and subsequently getting the werewolf to stand down, which our main character witnessed, and then not have the main character, like, go to him for help? Just have him go there for refuge?

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, GIVE ME DEATON.

Oh, hey. Scott howling again. I hope this time works better than last time. I can kind of understand why this was not his first choice of things to try given his previous experience.

But, uh, are you telling me Peter didn’t hear that and won’t also come running? Or that Peter didn’t think to try that instead of the whole phone thing? Or, like, now that apparently Derek is his beta, Peter can’t track him that way like he’s basically done to Scott during this whole show?

I feel like the phone thing was put in there specifically as a way to make Stiles useful. Especially since we haven’t seen this skill set from him before.

FYI, that longitude/latitude puts you in Antarctica.

Lol, so we specifically made a comment about how the service might not work in a parking garage and popped out the mifi, but we’re totally able to bypass that same issue to get the gps coordinates from a phone that’s underground. Sure, Jan.

Okay, so at least Peter did hear the howl. And you know what? I’ll accept that Scott outsmarted him because he’s done it several times already. The weird part is that you’d think Peter would be the one more in touch with the werewolf instinct and Scott would be the one more apt to use technology, but we’re getting the reverse.

If I had any faith in these folks, I’d have to wonder if that was on purpose. Like, has modern werewolf culture lost itself to the violence and lost all connection to its proto culture? Not all werewolf myths cast them as monstrous and bad, particularly Irish and Scottish folklore have them as helpful protectors. Scott McCall.

Ummm, why is Allison at the hospital? Did she hear Jackson’s voicemail and insist on coming? Did Kate just dump her somewhere and then she heard what happened to Lydia?

I actually really like the super quick flashes of the bloody room and Lydia writhing. That was very effective.

Okay, so Kate’s using this to manipulate Allison some more. Gotcha. Chris, you’re dumb for letting her be under Kate’s influence some more.

Stiles, why would you even ask that?

Oh. Okay. So we’re good with biting people of color and women and turning them without asking, but you’re gonna ask the white kid if he wants it. Why do I, once again, feel like that’s social commentary that they didn’t actually intend to make, but is so spot on it’s painful?

Also, is this the first episode where they’ve explained that the bite doesn’t always take, and that it’s not due to the intent of the one biting, but the biology (?) of the one being bitten?

That still doesn’t explain why Peter didn’t bite more people when Scott balked. Peter clearly doesn’t mind sacrificing people when convenient.

Peter is really much better at manipulation than Derek was. He and Kate are cut from the same cloth.

Part of me thinks that Stiles was lying because we’ve seen him be envious of Scott. The other part of me knows that Peter’s a lying liar who lies and no one should ever trust him.

The stark fucking difference between how the Sheriff treated Jackson versus how he’s treating Stiles.

I feel like that phone battery would have died by now. I have zero memory of how good phone batteries were 13 years ago though.

Wait, did this fucking bozo not hear Derek roaring? Dumbass.

Why does the lighting on the walls of this place always look like the light is reflecting off water but there’s no sound of water when they walk. I noticed it in the last episode too. Very distracting.

Why the fuck did Stiles bring up Derek? First of all, he knows his dad knows that because he got his dad drunk and his dad told him he knows that. Second, unless he’s planning on confessing everything and getting the police to roll up to Derek’s place, then saying that right now is incredibly dumb.

Holy shit! They did it to someone other than Scott this time! Made him look dumb so that someone else could have a snappy comeback! Why is this thing that these writers do? I mean, other than them being bad at their jobs.

I honestly can’t remember, does Stiles know that Allison got the necklace from her aunt? Also, like, he doesn’t even describe it, but Stiles somehow puts it together, lol.

“You really want to talk about this right now?” Says the guy who has, of course, been super forthcoming with Scott about werewolves this whole time. Who literally didn’t just switch sides to help Peter in a way that left Scott traumatized and writhing half naked on a locker room floor. This guy who has totally never made Scott’s life actively worse or hurt him almost every single time they met.

Yeah, Fuckface, he wants to talk about this now and with good reason.

Derek’s practically his own movie theater with how much he’s projecting on all these kids.

Btw, I am taking this as confirmation that Derek had, in fact, switched sides and was not actually playing along to still try to stop Peter. Which means that he’s a trash fire of a human being who has currently done only two good things. Possibly ever.

Weren’t there just police all over the hospital? I feel like someone should maybe notice a group of armed men terrorizing two high school kids after what happened to Lydia.

Scott’s sad little, “Just say you’ll help and I’ll unlock your other…” is so funny because, like, even if Derek said it Scott was resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be telling the truth, but would unlock him anyway.

Chris’ friend tried to kill him, huh? Was it because he was surrounded by people he knew wanted to kill him? Was it because he was hurt and in pain and just needed to learn how to control it? Like, I feel like there were other ways you could have handled that, Chris. If all you’ve got is a gun, every problem looks like a target, I guess.

I don’t buy that Kate and Allison got there before Peter. He’s there somewhere.

Why didn’t they shoot the flashbulb one first? It’s unnecessarily cruel, which is Kate’s M.O. but it still feels weird that Allison would go along with it.

Thank you, I guess for at least saying that Allison wasn’t willing to go along with killing. But, like, she knows Derek was being tortured. What did she think was going to happen if they did just capture Scott?

Lol. Okay, sure. Kate and Allison and Chris all got there before Peter.

“I did what I was told to do.”

Huh. I’m going to be real with you, I assumed that Kate would bust out with her warped views on why they need to die and that’s it’s a good thing and they’re just animals. I wasn’t expecting someone pulling her strings. I mean, I guess she could be lying, but why?

It makes way more sense that Chris is a naive idiot, honestly, than to think there wasn’t corruption in the hunters, they’re cops.

Lol, Chris, you fucking shot that same kid three months ago with no proof he’d spilled human blood. Bud, leg to stand on? You ain’t really got one.

Although good to know at least part of their code.

Wait, are these bullets even wolfsbane? Will normal bullets even kill werewolves? Derek was basically fisted through his chest and survived, so I guess I assumed they were more lethal than regular bullets.

We hunt those who hunt us. Well that’s definitely not the truth. Not if they were there the when Laura Hale died because she was the first victim and clearly a werewolf.

Peter did you have to succumb to the drama of the creaking door? Really? You couldn’t have just quietly launched yourself at Kate and dragged her off before anyone could get off a shot?

Also, where the fuck are Chris’ men who were at the hospital with them? Why did Chris not call for backup en route since apparently Stiles gave him the location. Sloppy work.

I understand that you’ve loved her your whole life Allison, but you just found out that she killed a bunch of innocent people including children and she almost killed the boy you said you loved right in front of you. I feel like running after her is the wrong choice.

Perhaps checking on your father or grabbing back the weapon you lost are better first choices.

You know what? I’m fine with that. Kate dying in that house by Peter’s hand works for me.

I am shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on here.

The shaky cam, the low light, and the fact that all three of them are wearing black leather jackets is not helping me figure out what’s happening in this fight.

Like, I don’t want to be reductionist and go for the simple metaphors, but for symmetry Scott should be in the red hoodie, Derek should only be wearing his light gray/dirty white shirt to show how he’s nominally fighting the good fight here even if he’s still not a good guy, and Peter should be in dark or colors indistinguishable from black.

Or they could have just used some more damn lighting, that’s an option too, I guess.

Well, I guess the cgi werewolf will theoretically make it a little easier to tell who’s who.

Hey, Stiles and Jackson. Good of you guys to show up. What kept you?

Wow, the practical effects for the Alpha are jarringly better than the cgi. Should’ve gone with as many practical effects as possible. Which is honestly so true for most things.

Oh. I guess they stopped by the chemistry room first. Lol.

Well. This is actually a very good strategy, Stiles. I can’t imagine anyone would react well to being lit on fire, but Peter’s going to react worse than most. Out of idle curiosity, why did you only make two?

I feel like, keep shooting is also an option here?

Look, Allison, girl. I get that you understandably believe Scott was telling the truth now, but, uh. If I were Scott I’d push you away until we could talk shit over because you totally let your aunt almost kill me in cold blood.

I get it’s a teen show, which means kissing instead of talking, but still. Not really appropriate after you watched your aunt get murdered and all y’all tried to burn a man to death.

“Because I love you,” is a bad answer.

How about because both you and my family lied to me and I didn’t know who to trust, so I trusted them because they’re my family and I’ve only known you for three months. But Kate showed that my trust in her was misplaced, and you showed that my trust in you wasn’t, and I’m sorry I almost got you killed.

Oh. Hey, Peter wasn’t all the way dead. We were all just letting him suffer and possibly heal up then? That’s a choice, I guess.

Now, big question time. Is Derek going to let Scott try to kill Peter to see if it will actually reverse the change or is he going to take his revenge for Peter killing Laura and screw Scott over forever? Hmmm, based on almost all of Derek’s previous behavior, I’m stumped.

I wonder if the Argent’s knew about that possible cure. I wonder if a hunter getting turned and killing their Alpha is how they found out that it was a possibility in the first place. Or maybe a hunter started it as a rumor to try to get betas to kill their Alphas.

This just in, Derek Hale remains a garbage fire of a human being. This is my shocked face.

The Sheriff just out here touching evidence with his bare hands.

I love how in the episode where they specifically say that you either turn or die from the bite that immediately gets disproven. Hey, quick question: does anyone actually know anything about werewolves? Maybe that’s why we’re not getting any details. None of the writers fucking know anything either.

Ugh, Jackson’s back again. If Derek turns him, he’ll be the stupidest goddamn man alive. Which means he’s going to.

Any bets that Jackson being turned will somehow make him more scared than less?

Aaaand we’ve got more hunters coming. Is it like a tribunal because the Argent’s fucked up? Is it the person pulling Kate’s strings, who knows!

Okay, so, here’s the thing. The story structure is killing me here. Too much is happening after the climax. We didn’t need the Sheriff finding Kate, that should’ve been cut. It gave us no knew information and that storyline was wrapped up again with the newspaper article like 30 seconds later.

We didn’t actually need to find out about Lydia not being a werewolf and possibly being something else. There was already a cliffhanger about her, we didn’t need to resolve that cliffhanger only to immediately have a new one but with less tension.

This should have ended with just the Jackson & Derek scene to theoretically wrap up that storyline, and the Argent scene - which gave us new information - transitioning to Scott and Allison cuddling under the moon - which is the resolution.

Season One Thoughts

This is a story about not becoming a monster. Kate was monstrous because she was ‘just following orders.’ Peter and Derek and even Jackson to an extent were monstrous because they let their pain selfishly consume them and then took it out on everyone else. Chris is perhaps the least monstrous because while he clearly refused to see what was in front of him for years, when there was nothing else to see but the truth, he did step up. Scott is, of course, the monster who refused to be monstrous.

I think Scott is a refreshing character. He’s a lead of color in a teen show, which is incredibly rare. He’s a teenager who does dumb teenager things and makes mistakes, but tries so hard to do the right thing. He’s stubborn and kind, and those are shown as both strengths and weaknesses, which I like. He clearly takes after his mother a whole bunch, and they have a sweet relationship.

I thought Allison and Stiles were good, complex characters, but there were certainly some iffy fucking characterizations choices for Stiles at the beginning of the season and some iffy fucking mischaracterizations with Allison at the end.

And finally, with my whole chest, DEATON IS MY FAVORITE. I want to know literally everything about him and I hope so very much that he gets a chance to be the mentor that Scott deserves.

#teen wolf #scott mccall #allison argent #derek hale #episode reaction #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #lydia martin #chris argent #alan deaton #peter hale #1x12 #kate argent

30 notes · View notes