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samodivaa · 6 months

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Thrill me, Fulfill me

You agreed to help for one mission—now you are both lustful and carnal, affected by sex pollen—you are flint, he is tinder.

Warnings - sex pollen, smut, rough/possessive sex, Hydra past, breeding kink, choking kink, multiple orgasms

Words - 8k

(the 3D render is for this fic, enjoy :3)

The horizon tips on its side, and slowly, hour by hour, the day spills out and soon the night will spread its darkness—traveling through the countryside is a charming escape and in a chronicle of events, with the light of the days—you feel the light inside too, your human spirit wanders in thoughts as you sit on the BMW’s trunk with closed eyes. It is June, and the world smells of roses, moments like these leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going—in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, Bucky and freedom—your soul feels at peace.

“I talked with Sam, he wants me to help him” There is an endearing nervousness in his voice “I was wondering if you would like to come with us”

In an instant, you reply with an annoyed face “No”

“No? Come on, you need people other than me in your life”

He scolds as he nests between your legs, fingers finding their way on both sides of your hips, drawing soft circles as they travel up towards your waist.

You arch an eyebrow at him, as if the answer is obvious “I don’t need others”

“You will love Sam, I told him about us, I mean-about us living together”

“You did, why?” you clip your words, hissing them into his face as you give a wide-eyed, searching look.

“I used to invite him over to my apartment, he started wondering why I stopped. I wanted him to know anyways”

“What else did you tell him?” you look at him with an arrested expression. His smile fades, and he finds himself staring into your eyes “James?”

It is only a brief moment, but you catch his blink of surprise at your demanding tone before he offers a tentative smile.

“I-I told him about your connections and he was hoping that-” he trails off quietly and you notice a tightness around his mouth and a dimness to his usually bright eyes.

You regard him thoughtfully and he sees the comprehension dawning in your eyes. You know exactly what he is asking.

“Did you miss the part of how I built them?” you ask, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He huffs in annoyance “Well no, but don’t worry-”

“Oh, hey Sam, I am another brainwashed assassin and when I escaped I did it willingly, for money, nice to meet you by the way”

“I get it, but you are changi-”

You snap, pinching your eyebrows close together.

“And this is my former partner who I used to occasionally fuck at Hydra and now that we have reconnected, we are fucking and living together”

“Anything else you want to add?”

“No, that's all” you finish bitterly, furious with him for letting Sam know so much about you.

“He already met you once in Madripoor, he knows about your past. Trust me, he is a good person, he accepted me”

You let out a hollow laugh

“I am not Captain America’s best friend, James. I am nobody, I don’t even have a legal identity”

You explain in a humorous yet deprecating tone, staring into space.

“Look at me, you need to trust me” he coos, his blue eyes have a doorway to your heart, the place where his care for you resides “I know that you are scared, but you need other people in your life”

It's the caring that he lovingly gives, the passion that he shows—that convinces you every time.

“If I break your heart, I break mine, darling”

Shifting your mouth from a frown into a light-hearted smile, you let out a small chuckle from underneath your breath. His metal hand rests on the small of your back, in that sweet spot that makes you feel feminine and protected—vanity, fear, uncertainty—all such distortions within your own ego—condition you to stay silent about your own feelings. Your programmed mind-pattern still needs to heal, all you need is time, you will get there eventually.

You kiss him on the cheek, which kind of surprises him.

“Хубаво, ще дойда” (Okay, I will come)

His gaze flickers up to your eyes and he can detect no deceit, no mockery.

There are many circumstances that lead to arrogance: one is when you're wrong and you can't face it—but you decide to face it this time, because you know that your brain relies on the familiar. It is reluctant to experience the unknown, which is the very essence of your human life.

The past should have no power over the present, but it still does sometimes—anger and death are deeply rooted, your emotional thermostat is broken. Everything in you is broken—you view yourself as pieces and Bucky somehow sees you as a whole.

Inside, your soul was so cold that you hated everything. You even despised the sun, for you knew you would never be able to play in its warm presence—you were condemned to stick to the past, working as a hitman for years. Everything changed when Bucky decided to track you down. You knew he was spying on you, because you made it easier for him.

You were afraid of the aloneness that you trusted for so long, but that is the truth that you still store in the granary of your mind. Maybe you will tell him one day. Maybe one day you will let him know that he helps you abandon your corporeal prison.

"Я просто люблю запах страха" (I just love the smell of fear) you whisper—a knife-wielding lunatic.

You face the attackers in a kind of instantaneous flash and see the disconsolate eyes, which remain stamped on your heart like the hot coals of fear, the power of death is then borne out by you—the queen at the bloody carnival, not afraid to spill blood while Bucky tries to prevent hurting, killing people at all cost.

It is easy when you work together, just as in the past—but he is holding back, you are not used to seeing him fight so carefully—Winter’s brutality is non-existent.

You sigh as the last man drops dead to the ground. With a knife in his chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest.

Yes, you helped them locate the rumored Hydra base, but Bucky’s intense paleness on his face shows regret, because you still don’t mind killing—you give him a pitying smile when your eyes meet before your system is poisoned with something.

It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion that you forget why you are here. And then your eyes meet again, there is fascination in his gaze, menaced by some invisible danger, and you want to succumb the terrible desire to weep when you realize what it is and you look at the mysterious trembling of your hands—your gaze goes up, but Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

He knows he has to go somewhere, he heads back to the apartment and he has feelings of sorrow, regret, directionless rage, a broad feeling of impotence. The horror of this misfortune penetrates Bucky so deeply that he is close to a panic attack—as if reliving the nightmare he sometimes has—Hydra giving him the pollen back in 1990.

He wanders all through the rooms as if walking in his sleep, chewing on his quiet rage.

He knows the theoretical mechanics of the pollen and he can barely stay on his feet because of the weakness of his knees, his skin is burning and he can’t resist the urgent need to palm himself through his pants—it starts slow and will go progressively worse.

He rubs his hand over his scalp, where his long hair used to be—now shaved very close to his head and bristling against his fingers, he lowers his blue eerily crystalline eyes before closing them. He feels like he should be crying, but he couldn’t summon the tears.

—it’s all his fault. Why did he need to come to your apartment a year ago, on a beautiful August’s evening?

„I knеw that we were following me, Soldat,“ you loudly acknowledge him, drawing out the derogatory term while your back is turned to him.

Stillness wraps Bucky up in a cold embrace, a chill running down his body as he hears you speak. On the string spun of your angel voice, grief and pain drowns him. The tone drawn from memory in his dreams it’s the same, unblinking, robotic as you offer him one spare look before focusing on cutting vegetables on the wooden board.

He exhales, then he slowly enters the apartment. „It is not Soldat, it’s Sergeant now“ his breath hitches and he stops as soon as he enters the room.

There is a crack in his stoic expression, excruciating memories flooding his mind. He knew that somewhere, some day, maybe at a less miserable time, you may see each other again, but he couldn't wait any longer.

The memories are still in his mind and the pain—too ripe in his heart. The more deeply he felt, the less he was able to breath, thinking of grief, and of getting past it.

That's why he came. He needs you in more ways that he wants to confess.

„Oh? What do you want, Barnes?“ your face is carefully blank.

„I wanted to talk to you“ he starts, taking a couple of steps towards.

Shadows lick up the side of his cheekbones, making his skin gold as he slowly walks to the opposite side of the kitchen island, you hear him move the wooden seating.

„And you couldn’t just-I don’t know…have knocked on the door?“

„Sorry, I didn’t know how to-“

He says, a tremor makes his voice uneven. Bucky takes in a deep breath to balance out the embarrassment thrumming through him.

„It is easier to be loyal to past habits, can’t blame you“ you murmur, voice perfectly respectful as you think about it with a heavy heart.

You said it as a matter of fact, without the scorn and mockery, but as an accepted truth before placing the knife you have been using, on the cutting board and finally facing him completely as you step closer to the island as well, leaning forward on your elbows.

But the wintery feeling of the pollen is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring that summer's memory of meeting you.

The memory played in his head, with a hopeless nostalgia that he was completely disoriented—he doesn't care if you are heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid, grasping with incurable programming and mental problems, he enjoys spending time with you. He would rather have misery with you than happiness with any other person, because it is shared, you have a deep and silent understanding.

He was so happy when you suggested living together four months ago—he was okay with the sleepovers at each other's apartments—never was bothered with the need to rush your companionship.

The key to personal development lies in the daily routine—creating new memories with you stretches out psychological time, and lengthens his perception of both your and Bucky’s lives. When he wakes up from a nightmare he is so relieved, because he wakes to a dream, he enjoys the miracle of living with each other as much at the table as in bed.

Bucky finally lays on the bed, his head aches. He admits that he is still human, vulnerable, and sensitive—but he begins to remember how it had been when Hydra gave him the pollen and his self revolted at this, hates himself for not being able to fight it, hates himself for bringing you here.

He is sick with conflict, destructive emotions festeres in him while this sludge eats away at his insides and Bucky is acutely conscious of the swift passage of time, it will make him become blunt and callous—there is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get for him, but maybe this is what he deserves.

When you push open the bedroom door, you can’t prevent it from scraping against the uneven floor. Suddenly, in the absolute darkness of his mind, Bucky is brought back to reality. He is not surprised, for without knowing, he has been expecting you to come.

You close the door behind you as he stands up on his elbows—wondering why are you such a stubborn, blind, obtuse woman—why are you here?

Your scent carries across the room and paralyzes him with longing.

“Stay away, why did you fucking follow me?”

You stop in shock at the words he utters—they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless.

He is vulnerable, slightly paranoid. Although his voice is broken by uncertainty and his hands seem to doubt the existence of things—he tries to appear composed.

You can feel his eyes traveling up your whole body, staying on your side for a split second before moving up to meet your gaze.

“James, we don’t have another choice, we don’t have time”

You can't blame him—he is scared, scared and frozen, afraid of what he can do to you...the old primitive urge for sex. It's getting harder to control it with every passing minute—every second is lived with terrible intensity. It all flows over you with a screaming ache of pain—as you see him, the need grows even faster...and all you can do is remember and feel—the effects of the pollen—like a disease of the blood, dispersing throughout the body.

He looks like a bundle of past recollections, knotted up in a bundle of flesh.You remember what his flesh has gone through—but you also remember what he put you through that day. You feel the naked fear, the urge of self-preservation, you appear solid in front of him, but you are mimicking nothingness.

“God, I smell you. So hot and sweet”

The blank hell in the back of his mind starts to break through, spewing forth like a dark pestilence, the pollen eats away the pith of his humanity—the chaotic words pour out of his mouth as he gets up from the bed and you self-paralyze, your back hits the door—but this is the only way that will pull you both out of the plunge of—pain, need.

Your sexual attraction to him has been heightened beyond measure, as much as you try to bury it deep down in fear, the lust is getting greater than any other feeling or emotion. Every part of him is heightened to you now...his voice included.

He stops in front of you, belatedly realizing where his feet have carried him. There is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his need taking slowly over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive lust, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state—you feel it too as he molds his front to yours and pins your breasts against his chest.

You are mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes—you can drown in those eyes and it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His beautiful features offer themselves to your gaze as you trail through them, annoyed at how attractive he looks—putting your mind into a darker cloud of irritation, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.

You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he cages you against the door, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze.

“I want to taste you so desperately, it rages through me-fuck, fuck this-I want to fuck you”

His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning— it’s hard—but not harder than his cock.

“Do it, come on” you gasp out.

“If you don’t get out of here, you know what will happen”

He explains weakly, and when you say nothing, he grabs your waist with both hands, vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire.

Bucky’s control dies a slow death, shedding layers like leaves until—there will be none—he tends to be particularly rough, aggressive and possessive when given the pollen. You remember the feeling of possessiveness he had as the Winter Soldier over you, so intense it transformed into an obsession over your body.

“I'm not leaving, I need this as much as you” you say, tremulous with longing.

Bucky stares at your mouth as you speak—it looks provocative to him when you talk.

“Enough, dammit, leave”

His voice tightens, it pierces your soul—half agony, half lust.

You still have the choice of running away and finding someone else to do it, but leaving Bucky behind—you know there is not a girl in the world that can handle him, no one else has the serum, but you—your brain is ricocheting in between. It all drifts to the periphery of the mind when you meet Bucky’s eyes.

“It’s normal-” you say haltingly, your expression turns guarded.

He is livid, a sad look on his face

“We are not normal” he interrupts with a soft firmness “It’s insane to pretend we are”

You are both aware. Catastrophically aware.

“Stop talking, we’ve been through that once-”

and you look so well-equipped for this that is seems abnormal to Bucky, he is conquered by the obstinacy of you—so docile and willing to help—he wants to be emancipated for the moment from the torment of the pollen, but the guilt is still eating him.

“Do you remember the year it happened?”

"You always ask me whether I remember the stupid years, lets just-” you say with a shrug.

"It matters, it matters to me. I hate that you remember, I hate myself for what I've done to you” He explains, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his human hand.

"James” you whisper his name tremulously “I don’t blame you for anything”

His pain is paramount and you want it to end. His pain, his guilt. You are willing to suffer for the rest of your night so that he can take the easy way out of his needs. You admit it to yourself, without bitterness—you need to sacrifice dearly on behalf of Bucky.

“I’ll lose control” What you cannot forgive is dishonesty—you would rather know the hideously unflattering truth of his devastating visions than foul evasions “If you try to run now, I will probably chase you down anyways”

With all that waiting you have lost the strength of your legs, the firmness of your breasts, your tenderness look—barely keeping your heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious talking, you shamelessly groan, closing your eyes.

“This is bad,” you whimper “Oh God, this is bad. Please, do something”

The next critical manifestation: the unbearable pain.

“Snezinka-” (snowflake)

“Stay with me” your eyes shone “Play with me, please” like those of a cat.

In that state of hallucinated lucidity—you just can’t take it anymore. Presently the need grows stronger, hesitating then no longer. The attempts to conceal the pollen’s effects don't work anymore.

“At least…give me permission this time” Bucky shakes his head, sadness vibrating through his body as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Yes, do whatever you want” you moan, shaking, desperate for his touch.

And then you see something possessive wash over him, making your body shiver in anticipation.

“Please, I need yo-”

You say, nodding at the soul-reaching blue crystals, not looking away from him, but Bucky doesn’t let you finish as he kisses you. His lips are warm, his body is heat and muscles against you. He kisses you like a tide, gentle at first, but with the ability to drown, his fingers digging into your waist, urging you ever-nearer to him, even when it’s physically impossible to be. Then his fingers slithers over your chest, hands immediately find your breasts and he starts to massage them for his own pleasure.

His fingers curl around the edges of your soaked blood shirt, pulling and eventually tearing it away from your skin.

There is lust and there is pain, a whirling wheel—not stopping.

He wastes no time, kissing you deeply again, already missing the feeling of your skin.

“I am yours, you know that”

A simple reply, his voice cut into you like glass, his words bleeding into your skin. It isn’t something to be argued against, it’s the truth and you acknowledge that. It’s ridiculous, absurdly sentimental to think that you managed to lay a claim on him like you did in the past.

You are trying to think of something, coming up short when he presses his hips flush against yours again, the chest harness wrinkling under the tight grip of your fists, pulling him and he hems you up against the door, grinding his cock against you. You slide one hand downwards, wrapping around his hard manhood and squeeze, Bucky moans quietly and involuntarily rolls into the contact, desperately seeking relief.

“Fuck” he says, a bit too breathlessly.

„James-this is not enough“ you undulate your hips against the aching bulge.

His name falling on his ears like that sent chills down his spine, he can hear the beat of his heart, his palms belong on your skin as he closes the gap between you. Nothing is sweeter, nothing else than you—lust is spreading like quickfire in his veins, groaning in the kiss.

“I know, I know” he whispers, a hint of exasperation and affront in his tone, leaning forwards to kiss you yet again, teasingly licking at your lips as he pulls away.

Sexual perversions mix with guilt and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed.

You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs—his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs. The corners of his mouth curve upward when he notices you staring a moment too long as he removes his jacket and shirt.

You remove your own pants and then you spread your legs open, positioned right in front of his standing body—one hand toys with your breast through the bra while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drags them down your legs fast before throwing them in his direction.

His breath stutters as he catches them with his metal arm, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft. It’s becoming more painful. He starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip—even in his large hand, it looks intimidating, the veins in his neck tightening.

He’s quite tall with broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even his leather jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes.

He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten now.

It is the impatience of the way he tears your bra from your body that really scares you: the pollen getting the better of him and you spread your legs wide, exposing your overall and the fragrance of the essences permits in the air, he smells it.

His cock nudges around your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead glides through your delicate folds. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming, this selfish. He is so far in that his balls are right against your pussy lips.

His greedy lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back his throaty moans. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth. His lips are usually gentle and loving, promising long days and summer forever—but they soon turn sharp, peppermint, winter.

Animal logic. Prey. Predator… teeth dragging against your neck, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples; shooting up and down your spine.

You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty wide eyes locked onto his powder-blue orbits—curves cushioning him, your obedient body lush, muscular, but still feminine, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you.

It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, you've got the prettiest expression as he grips your legs and folds them up to fuck his dick into you even harder than before.

“Don’t stop, don’t, please”

There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.

He continues to trail his lips down the front of your throat and you realize that he is mouthing words against your skin “Mine. Mine. Mine”

“You feel so good every time, snezinka” he murmurs at your ear as slide to your throat and he tightens his grip on both sides on your neck, reducing the blood and oxygen to the brain. When he loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by a shamelessly loud moan from your lips “I think that I love you”

“We’re drugged. That’s why,” you gaspe “Did you forget?”

Bucky acknowledges your words, they sink into him—he focuses his attention on your skin. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, skin breaks out into a pale sweat and your eyes fill with tears. His trusts are ruthless.

“There is no pleasure as good as the feel of your pretty cunt wrapped around me” a dark edge creeps into his tone.

He says as he fills out pounds you, drawing a muffled scream from your throat as he starts to thrust more rapidly, setting a demanding rhythm.

Something strange starts to rage inside him, hearing you inhale sharply as he continues to kiss and bite your neck, leaving bruises deliberately and as he fucks you deeper, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way—he wants to breed you.

And you know you will wear the bruises of Bucky’s hands as you wear the scars of Soldat.

All extremes of the pollen are allied with madness, finally consuming his brain and body.

“You are so beautiful”

He says into your skin, tears welling, confused, mingling in his throat. Old wounds never truly heal, your past will never fully heal anyways. That one tear, that tiny, salty, droplet of moisture is a means of expression—joy, and torment. Although it's just a small tear, it is the heaviest thing in the world. And it doesn't do a damn thing to fix anything in this situation.

“James-” your whole body exhaled a lugubrious lament, your heart breaks for him.

His eyes are always soulful, in some way; they seem to say things that you know he's probably never say out loud.

“I know baby, I know,” he nibbles on the side of your neck “You are so beautiful, I am sorry-so sorry, I can’t stop” his growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length “I need this, I need you”

You’re powerless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his voice sends shudders through your body, reacting in all the right ways to the words. The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, tears slipping down the old salty trails as he doesn’t stop, his head lulling on your shoulder.

He leans down, nose brushing against yours as he pants, thrusts never faltering, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb. He closes his eyes, because of the volcanic eruptions of fever still goes through his body—his orgasm is long, raw, reaching all his body senses.

Sex is unthinkable without roughness tonight—he is already thinking about his second orgasm—should he just cum in your mouth when he makes you fall to your knees… or if he should take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. Of the few times Soldat has face fucked you—gagging you to near vomiting—you’ve never miss a drop of cum. He remembers it.

His hand closes around your throat and the grip tightens, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. Your head is spinning, ears are ringing—suddenly, without warning, he withdraws completely, leaving you coughing and gasping for air. As you try to catch your breath, you feel him get up from the bed which urges you to come back to your senses faster.

In his temporary madness, an idea comes to his mind.

In seconds, he is back on top and when your vision finally clears—his lusty orbs descend to your cheeks, detailing your skin before leaning in to lick off your tears—some form of mercy which you don’t need.

He is now in that state of fire that excites you. You want to be burnt.

His eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and he smiles, nova-flare eyes blazing into your own—you look for love hiding in his eyes, in his face, and you find nothing but possessiveness.

But something is not right.

His eyes are cold and dark.And your heart stops.

He is taking you over. Staking a claim.

He slowly thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he ruts back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. You exhale, trembling as you feel the tip pressing against your opening and penetrating you. He is mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining you from moving them—and you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as Soldat used to capture his favorite prey—you—in the past.

A flash blinds you for a moment and you see him holding his phone—this feels surreal—leaving you breathless with an inexpressible delight of it. Bucky’s inner voice of lust speaks, it is so spontaneous and unannounced. Your mind searches for the logical thought of his action.

“Fuck, I can cum just by looking at it” He musters his primest tone, throwing the device to the side.

You whimper as your abdomen contracted painfully around his hard length at his words. He lets his fingers release your hands as his cold digits swipes back the hair from your face. Cursing, he grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his while the metal ones grip your hip so tightly you are sure he’d leave a bruise. You whimper as he starts to fuck you, slamming you into the matress.

The usual warmth of his hands is not there. They chill your skin as they hold you close to his body, and you realize he is scared. The extreme joy mixes with the bone-crushing grief—what if you don’t want to be around him after this night? What if you condemn him, consider it with high and unjust resentment and leave him? It pierces his soul, but he can’t stop—he is half agony, half animal...the past beats inside like a second heart now.

Your soft fingers trail his face and continue to attempt a connection that he refuses to acknowledge at first—the past slips and vanishes like sand between the warm touch of your fingers, acquiring material weight, only in its recollection, because the more shared past there is in any relationship, the more present you need to be for each other.

“Let go," you whisper and he loosens the grips—he is ashamed of holding you so tightly "No, not of me," you say smiling.

You look right into his eyes, right into him as far as you can see, because you want him to hear you, you want him to hear you with everything you say—and his chest tightens as if some euphoric drug has gone straight to his nervous system—but it is not the pollen, it is you—reassuring him, leaving a psychic imprint in his mind.

It’s both a blessing and a curse to share the same trauma. And even though you are sometimes harsh, restless and despairing—he is your weak spot, you love him in your own way.

"You can hold on to me as long as you want. Let go of the past, let go of the pain" you say, giving him permission, taking him into your flesh, a clear invitation to madness.

Emotions clamp down on his heart, but he stays terribly silent. Bucky says nothing after that, only your name, as if your name is not a name but a question. He shakes his head and kisses you, long and quiet.

He grabs your jaw in one hand forcing you to look at him, tears coursing down your cheeks as he thrusts into you, making low, growling noises in his throat—a predator purring with pleasure while it devours its prey, picking up a brutal pace once again. Your legs tighten around his waist, hooking over his hip bones as he practically folds you in half, nails digging into his back, surely breaking his skin with your manicured fingers.

He groans at the pain and removes your hands, intertwines his fingers with yours, pins your wrists flat to the mattress on either side of your head. He holds himself up over your body as he fucks into you, supporting his weight on his forearms. His cock is slamming into you, balls bouncing against your clit just right, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge.

“You look so good taking all of me” he pants against your throat “I will fill you again-so good”

Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.

You whimper and nod dumbly, screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spread throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze.

It pollutes his mind even more, it cripples his morality, because he is infatuated with fucking you like this again—is it the pollen at this point?

''Bear with me'' He murmurs, gritting his teeth ''I need…more” his cock slowly sliding out of your tight pussy before sliding back inside with equal slowness, sliding through copious amounts of thin lubrication and cum. Your legs wrap around his waist and prevent him from pulling out even if he wants to—your understanding, your willingness is a kind of ecstasy to him.

The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put your finger on. What is he thinking about?

A part of him cares about you.

But there’s a depravity in his mind right now that enjoys seeing you like this—your hair is in disarray, several tendrils scattered across your face and constricting your view of him, sweat pricks at your hairline and down your back. There is something unmistakably exultant in turning you into a mess—such a mess of cum and tears. Gently, he brushes the tendrils out of your face, tenderness in his touch—that’s the part of him that cares.

“I need you on the floor, on all fours” —that's the part of him that's deprived tonight.

You can feel the desire. The thirst. The absolute beast threatening to tear from his skin.

Soldat loved to fuck you against solid ground. He never truly left, sometimes Bucky is on the verge of cracking and showing the color of the thing beneath, but you don’t mind, you are not scared, you never were.

All he wants is for you to be filled, marked, bruised from staying up all night, taking his cock into your body until you are depleted of all your strength. Even then, he will fuck you. He doesn’t say more, but he groans as he gets up—what a sinful twist of his lips, watching you slowly get up, your legs are incapable of supporting your weight much longer.

Your cunt hurts, too—you feel his cum dripping down your thighs, making yourself position in doggy style, legs winched apart, everything exposed to his view and he goes to stand on knees behind you, eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole. He twists your hair around his fist and yanks your head back, at the same time thrusting into you from behind as his fingers slide to dig into your ass.

Bucky grunts as he slams into you “Я без ума от тебя” (I'm mad about you) his balls slapping against the sensitive nub. You choke on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. You arch your back more and dig your nails into the floor, clawing at the dirty ground as he relentlessly pounds into you. Sweat drips down his neck as he watches himself entering and exiting you.

He grips your hips tightly, slamming into your snatch with ferocity. A wave of pleasure suddenly overwhelms you, and the tingling is growing stronger once more.

“Я предан тебе…ты моя девочка”(im devoted to you)...(You are my girl)

You can only mewl and gasp as you are rocked back and forth on your knees, losing your breath every time his cock hammers into your cunt. You clench around him when you hear your full name spoken in his gravelly tenor.

He molds his front to your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. He grabs your hair and snaps your head back roughly before it travels down around your throat and squeezes tight while his other palm splays across your stomach.

His lips rests on the back of your shoulder, hissing

“Очевидно, что , нас чувства друк к други” (You can’t deny what's between us)

He carries on rutting you like an animal. Your skin slapping together, your pussy squirting around his cock as it invades your snatch repeatedly, making suction squelching noises with every thrust in of his length. It keeps on hitting your cervix, your nubile breasts swing with the force of your body rocking—you know that you will be sore later.

"You fill my heart, I fill your cunt"

But his words strike every inside your body and his honesty brings the euphoria of complete surrender.

“Enough, stop, it is too much”

You plea and nearly asphyxiate on the words as your orgasm bursts upwards from your abused cunt. A sob wracks your throat and he continues thrusting, riding your orgasm until your entire body is convulsing and you are desperately trying to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms with the last of your strength, but it's not enough compared to the strength of his arms holding your hips with renewed vigor, determined to breed you.

You catch sight of him from your peripheral vision, his eyes closed, his lips are silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands grip your hips, fingers digging in, the way he fucks you. And you thought that he chose that position, because he was embarrassed, but he was not—he wanted to disguise from you how much he was enjoying himself.

You have the strength to kill him, but here you are—so obedient.

His little submissive.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind.

“James”

His name on your lips sooth a place deep inside him, and the urgent need to hear it in again pulses in his heart, making himself guilty of such a secret, he must perforce hold it—

—but he shamelessly let out a loud moan, he never felt so out of control. You are a disease worse than the pollen itself.

“Bucky”

That makes him groan like an animal, noises coming out of him that you never heard before, he was never this vocal. The groans are desperate, endless, but the sound of his name is unspeakably erotic to him. He can’t get enough of this. He will die without it, without you.

“You look too pretty when you’re getting fucked like that” he blurts out, without even thinking.

There is already a fissure in his mind and madness just rushes through. Praising him puts him on edge, it’s something he never thought he wanted or needed. You wreak havoc on his life.

He squeezes his eyes shut—to utilize the entire spectrum of the other senses, moans of ecstasy crescendos and his breaths come in short instances, each with a slight pause in between as his body is rack with his orgasm, cum is flooding out of your cunt, dripping of you onto the hardwood floor and there is a charm about it that makes it unspeakably desirable for Bucky.

In this stillness, he finally finds serenity.

All you want to do is crawl back beneath the mound blankets—he gently picks you up and you smile crookedly at him, something about your smile loosening a knot in his chest, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat.

Morning came in through the blinds cutting everything into ribbons, but the light can make the most vulgar things tolerable—you are aware of the aching hips, and your whole body hurts like hell as if you have been run over by a train.

Bucky steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered with a white towel around his lean hips. He takes a half step toward the bed, and his jaw works for a moment before he asks

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired, did you tell Sam what happened?”

“No, of course not. He is thankful that you helped us” He says and rakes his fingers through his damp hair, making it stand on end “He invited us to Louisiana”

You barely resists smiling at him “Okay”

He raises a brow “Just like that, okay?”

“If you give me my bracelet back”

You both look at the bracelet around his right hand. Then he bites his lip as he grins.

“Not happening” he says, his tone flattening and he can't help the smirk that tips up the corners of his mouth.

“Guess I need to buy a new one then” You peel back the covers, indicating for him to get in and you watch him climb next to you “With your name on it”

His palm reaches up to wrap around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in the depths of your hair, pulling you closer, his lips hovering over yours. Everything about him pleases you.

Not just his looks, but his patience and his kindness. He is an obsession waiting to happen. Kissing him is terrifying, breathing the same air makes your knees weak, a liquid sensation swooping throughout your stomach—but you've been betrayed, stabbed by every single person in your life, the body heals, but it injures the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime. You are scared of love, scared of these new feelings, scared of trusting anyone, but you are trying—that’s why you gently press a kiss to his mouth.

(Her kisses are deliberate and polished. When she kisses me—she doesn't want me. She has me and knows it.)

Bucky throws himself onto the couch next to Sam, slewing his eyes over to him.

"So you are sleeping and living together, but you are still not in a relationship?"

He takes a long sip of his drink when he hears the words, tips his head back against the couch, and decides he could…maybe live with that.

"Yeah"

Sam’s lips tighten to suppress a smile "That's a bit weird, Buck"

He chuckles, low under his breath "The part where I live with my ex-coworker or the part where we sleep together?"

James takes a deep breath, and Sam can see his blue eyes searching for his, like he is looking for an answer.

”Maybe it is what it's meant to be for now” A frown settles on Bucky’s face as he considers that “She has a lot to experience, too. If you pressure her with anything, you might lose her completely”

“I don't want to be in love, but she is making me, Sam” he sighs, a headache blooming right between his eyes. He rubs at the spot, stalling as he tries to figure out what he wants to say “But you are right, she needs to heal”

Several emotions swirl in Sam’s eyes. Worry, sadness, maybe even intrigue. But not judgment. Never. “Did she agree to go to Wakanda?”

He wets his dry lips and says the most basic truth:

“No, she is too untrustworthy, I can’t believe she even agreed to come here”

Sam sees it as hope—and he wants to put that light within his friend, too “But she did”

They can’t talk about it anymore, not when they hear you, Sarah and the kids coming back, and when your gazes meet, your soft smile and the look in your eyes, they are the best interpreter of your mind—you are truly happy, seeing you like that makes him feel like he can single-handedly vanquish an army.

He has outlasted all family, desires, dreams, his grief alone is left entire—sometimes visiting the lonely desolation of nightmares, they are gleamings of his empty heart—Bucky is a heap of ashes, but meeting you—kindled him back into fire.

Oh my goshhh thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this project!

More of this ex!Asset AU? - MASTERLIST

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

Oh wow fantastic I loved it!! now I kinda want a part two to the whole short post what did happen after finding out there darling likes tall guys how will they comfort there rival

I'm assuming you meant confront! I hope so at least cause that's what I wrote! If not I can totally write a second one! Thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Yanderes confront their rivals~༺}

This is a Part 2! Part 1:

CW: Fighting, using their obsession to get information, a knife is mentioned, Freminet trains you to like him, descriptions of blood, slight gore, confronting, yandere themes, some angst, and Lyney call reader mon amour!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You knew Lyney was the reason Neuvillette had gone missing, it was obvious and yet no one could arrest him because there wasn't enough evidence, not to mention without the Chief of Justice...how could you have a trial? The whole of Fontaine was now in disarray, searching for Neuvillette everywhere and anywhere Lyney could have taken him, but not a single place had any results.

You didn't even know if he was still alive...but you just couldn't give up, thats what led you to this moment, honeyed words slipping past your lips and your arms around Lyney, batting your eyes at him..."Lyney, I'm all yours, Neuvillette is no longer a threat to that I promise. Let him go..." The magician sighed softly, so tempted, so enraptured by you that he almost gave it away from your beautiful eyes alone, "You know as well as I do mon amour, if I do as you ask...I'll be taken away to Meropide. Away from you..."

You bit your lip, wandering how deep into this act you'd have to go in order to convince him, "Not if they don't catch you, we can run away together... just you and me..." You kissed his cheek and he caved...unable to resist you any longer, "I can't say no to that..."

He reached out his hand, a card between his fingers...but it wasn't like any of his others, it was blue with a a outline of Neuvillette. "Neat isn't it?" Lyney asked when he'd caught you staring and with a snap of his fingers the card began to change, blue smoke circling around a spot on the ground until it sudden disappeared, leaving Neuvillette in its place...

"Neuvillette!"

He seemed perfectly healthy, shaken to say the least, but otherwise fine. It felt like you could breath again like everything would be okay...he could save you...right?

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You hadn't heard from Tighnari in over a week and you felt so guilty...after how hard it must have been to confess his feelings, you shot him down without even a moment to think if you really wanted to,... just because he wasn't exactly your type. Now he was probably in his home, regretting his decision to ever tell you how he felt in the first place...ever be nice to you at all for that matter.

You sighed, opening the door to your humble abode, only to see one of the most terrifying things even your nightmares could have prepared you for, "T-tighnari?" The fennec fox looked up at you with a crazed smile, a small hunting knife tightly gripped in his hand...the blade of it against against what looked to be a drugged Alhaitham, "You're finally home! We've been waiting for you...sorry to barge in uninvited but I had to show you that I was better than him. Let you see that I can overpower him, even though he's stronger and...taller."

You felt your chest tighten with fear, your hands shaking uncontrollably, "What... d-did you do to him Tighnari?" Meanwhile Tighnari was acting as if this was a casual hangout between the two of you, his tail swaying behind him and his ears twitching in delight, he even chuckled when Alhaitham attempted to mutter something, "Don't worry, he's just poisoned. I asked if he wanted something for a headache he was having and then I gave him something, it just wasn't what he had in mind..."

"Tighnari...let him go. T-this is crazy!" You felt tears welling up in your eyes, your body screaming at you to run for help and yet you felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. "I'm not crazy, I'm dedicated,...to you. I want nothing more than to be with you and if I have to make sure the scribe isn't able to interfere to have that, then I will." His eyes sparkled at the mention of being with you...

"...just let him go. Give him a antidote and I'll s-stay with you. Please Tighnari, don't hurt anyone more than you already have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot down your confession so quickly, but I'll m-make it up to you" You reached your hand out and he wasted no time accepting it, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, all of it seeming so innocent..

"As long as you stay with me...no one else will ever get hurt."

𑁍༄Venti:

You'd never seen such a war before...archons battling against eachother, destroying the land with power far greater than you ever could have imagined, all of this...because you couldn't see yourself with someone short, what was Venti doing! By now there was a large crowd of people, some from Liyue, some from Mondstat and each of them cheering for their own Archon. There were even fights breaking out over who was better....

This had to stop. "Venti! Venti listen to me! I know you're angry and that's okay, but starting a war just because I said I wasn't into you isn't the way to feel better!" You shouted as loud as you could, but he wasn't able to hear you, the sound of large rocks crashing into the ground and highwinds ripping trees right out of the land impossible to talk over. Was it a lost cause...?

You shook your head, unable to give up at the thought of your friend getting hurt...even if he was stupid for starting it in the first place...you cared about him. You swallowed your fear and gathered up all of your courage, running into the danger zone, barely able to keep your footing while you continued to call to the anemo archon. "Venti! Vennntii!!"

Suddenly the part of land you'd been running on ripped away from the rest of the ground, flying upwards with you holding on for dear life, "Venti! Hellpp!!!" You felt your grasp slipping and then you were spinning, falling back down at such speed you'd die on impact, you shut your eyes tightly, praying for everything to be okay.

Then there was a gentle breeze surrounding you.. lifting you upwards, the entire battle out on pause when you came face to face with Venti, shocked to see him in his archon outfit, "Venti please, I'm sorry. Don't take this out on Zhongli, don't make such a big mess because of me. I'm... not worth it." You looked down at all the dilapidated area beneath you...all of this for you?

"You're worth more than every world or star in the entire universe...I'd fight to the end for you." The anemo archon touched your cheek softly.., making you feel something you never had before..

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet wouldn't leave your side, keeping you away from Neuvillette at any costs... pampering you with romaritime flowers and ocean shells, convincing you in ever way he could think of that he was better. He'd be there in the morning with warm breakfast and a nice hot beverage, he'd walk with you anywhere you needed to go so he could keep you safe and...people were noticing. Most thought you were dating. Even congratulating you two...but he always answered before you could, thanking them happily.

Truthfully...he was training you to only want to be around him and it was working...

𑁍༄Aether:

"ITTO!" You screamed, your skin paling at the sight of the Oni you had been crushing on so much, taken down to the ground with dark crimson blood dripping from his head onto grass beneath him, his face badly bruised and beaten up. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing, your heart racing as you looked to the culprit... his face speckled with deep red flecks of blood and sickening smile on his lips..

"W-why...Aether, you're supposed to be a hero why would you...he didn't...h-he didn't deserve this!" You rushed to Ittos side, holding his large hand in yours and staring at the damage someone you thought you could trust caused.

"I did it for you. Now he can't take you from me..., now there's only one hero for you and it's me." Aether grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you close to him while you tried desperately to shove him away, "No! Let go of me! Help! Someone help!!" You screamed frantically, searching for any other signs of people...but nobody was around? How was that possible! It was the city?!

Aether smiled at you sadistically, "Being a famous hero and knowing important people means I can say there's a need to evacuate...and everyone will just leave. No one...can hear you now..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧

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daytaker · 4 months

Text

Sins, Virtues, and Motivations: A Critical Analysis of Characters in Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

In this essay, I will argue that each demon brother some of the demon brothers can be associated with a sin (no duh), a virtue, and a core motivation--and that this motivation is best pursued through a synthesis of that sin and that virtue. Hegel would be very proud. Yes, this is critical media analysis. No, I will not try to explain the twisted, broken path that led me to this point in my life.

I will be looking at Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi in this study. Their core sins are obvious - Pride, Greed, and Envy. Their accompanying Virtues and Motivations are listed below.

I used the Seven Heavenly Virtues for this little game. These are Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, Faith, Hope, and Charity.

They should not be confused with the Seven Capital Virtues, which are inversions of the Seven Deadly Sins. These are Humility, Charity, Kindness, Patience, Chastity, Temperance, and Diligence. I tried these first and damn were none of them easy to match up. Tell me, fandom for this mobile game designed for players to lust over hot demon men, which brother should have the "chastity" virtue?

Lucifer

Core Sin: Pride. Core Virtue: Fortitude. Core Motivation: To protect his family.

Lucifer's core motivation is to protect his brothers. He looks at this as a sort of penance for the outcome of the Great Celestial War. He knows that he's the reason they rebelled, and he feels responsible for their wellbeing. He is able to endure the relentless pressure of the responsibilities he puts on himself thanks to his core virtue, fortitude.

Fortitude is strongly associated with courage. Specifically, it is courage in the face of pain and adversity. We see him displaying this trait any time those he cares for are in jeopardy, and it often helps him make difficult decisions where neither outcome is ideal. Lucifer is decisive, canny, and accepts the consequences of his choices, good or bad.

His driving motivation is also bolstered by his core sin: pride. He views himself as ultra-competent, while his brothers consistently make mistakes; beyond that, it's only natural that he take responsibility for the choices of his brothers (like the choice to join him in rebelling) because he is so significant an influence as to virtually rob them of their autonomy.

This has led to Lucifer having a somewhat toxic relationship with his brothers. Lucifer often acts as a parental figure rather than a peer, while the rest of them are all in arrested development of some sort, often acting more like kids than the adults they insist they are.

Lucifer either doesn't recognize that by doing everything for the family on his own, he's stemming their ability to grow and learn, or he does know the consequences of what he's doing and he feels conflicted about it. He ultimately blames himself for the fact that they're all in the Devildom in the first place, living as avatars of sins to the extent that they struggle to function as independent adults.

So, while fortitude and pride allow Lucifer to simulate the act of protecting his family, it's a matter of perspective whether controlling every element of their lives is protection or harmful coddling.

Mammon

Core Sin: Greed. Core Virtue: Charity. Core Motivation: To be valued and valuable.

Mammon is simultaneously a vessel of greed and its inverse, charity. This is because his core motivation is twofold, and those are the rewards of greed and charity; to be valued - to fulfill a want, to be desired, to look flippin' cool - and to be valuable - to fulfill a need, to have inherent worth, to serve a purpose.

Setting aside his unhealthy relationship with money, let's examine how Mammon behaves and what his deeper interpersonal motivations tend to be. He clearly places a high value on his brothers and MC, and he has shown on multiple occasions that he is willing to put himself at risk to help or protect them. Early on in both the original game and in NightBringer, Mammon attempts to heroically rescue MC (and his younger brothers, in NightBringer). In both cases, though, Lucifer shows up and does it for him. Mammon's pursuit of his core motivation clashes with Lucifer's quest for his, and Lucifer is strong enough to simply take it from him. Although in NightBringer he and his brothers do earn the not-insubstantial reward of the title "Lords of the Underworld" after Lucifer's rescue, he appeared so dejected by Lucifer's oneupmanship that he spent a good portion of the next day sulking. In the original game, Mammon wants MC to promise that they won't be saved by anyone else besides him in the future. It appears that his greed for an improved status in his interpersonal relationships is left unfulfilled.

Mammon wants to be heroic - to be valuable - and he wants to be admired for it - to be valued. The cognitive dissonance that accompanies motivations like these is all that sustains a person with such a diminished sense of self-worth.

Speaking of a diminished sense of self worth...

Leviathan

Core Sin: Envy. Core Virtue: Hope. Core Motivation: To find joy in the things that give him joy.

Confusing motivation? Yes it is. But envy is a confusing sin. All the other sins--pride, greed, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth--are enjoyable to indulge on some level. Losing your temper when you feel you've been wronged, or eating a bunch of delicious food, or sleeping through the snooze alarm: We know why we do those things. We might regret them later, but we indulge them in the moment because of the enjoyable side.

There is nothing enjoyable about envy. Wanting something that isn't yours, that belongs to someone else, be it tangible goods, talents, a partner, a job... is nauseating. And it makes you feel like a bad person, and it drains the joy out of things that you used to love. Speaking from personal experience for a second, when I was a teenager, I played music in a company with a much younger musician who was incredibly talented, and I was deeply envious of her. I wanted her talent; I wanted the praise she received; I wanted to impress people; I wanted what she had. But there was nothing I could do. I hated feeling that way, but I couldn't shake it. And it ate away at my desire to play music. It took the joy out of something that once gave me joy.

You see the connection?

Levi struggles to find pleasure in anything he does, despite how many interests he has, because, in spite of his blustering dismissal of all things "normie", he is deeply envious of those he perceives as his social superiors. Now, I am not in any way saying that Levi is or would be an inc3l, but there's an element of his character that has a strong parallel to inc3l culture. The idea that there is something fundamentally wrong with him that prevents him from achieving what he wants socially and that the only way he can protect himself from those who would ridicule him is with a defensive contempt for the group that rejects him... Does any of that sound familiar?

But Levi is not an inc3l. No, not because you're willing to **** him and his two *****, though I'm sure that helps. It's because he has his core virtue: hope.

Have you ever heard of the black pill? It's kind of like the final stage of inc3l culture, where you accept that you're not an alpha male, you'll never be one, you'll never be accepted by a woman, you're ugly and unloveable, and you might as well just stop existing. It is sheer despair.

Levi maintains hope for the future, even if he prefers not to admit it out of fear of jinxing himself. He is able to form a deep bond with MC, who he views as a "normie", without renouncing his hobbies or being mocked for them. In fact, I would argue that the anxiety Levi sometimes displays over the possibility of being made fun of (for example, in NightBringer when he considers trying out cosplay) is emblematic of the hope he has that he can be accepted.

"But wait, daytaker," you say. "That doesn't sound like he's making progress towards his core motivation of getting joy out of the things that bring him joy! Being self conscious is not joyful!" Well, you're right. What Levi needs is to somehow find the right balance between enjoying his hobbies and allowing himself to enjoy other people as well. As we can see from his effusive excitement in sharing his favorite games and stories with MC and his brothers, the social component of media consumption is a major component in making it enjoyable. If Levi loses hope, he loses that connection to the world offline, and if he loses that connection, he loses the joy.

@blackstqr (I did it.)

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st6rly · 7 months

Note

dude sol, back at it with the criminal reader, what if there was a formal party held by Furina and you snuck in undetected?

You were simply enjoying your time, taking sips of your drink and plucking small deserts from the servants that passed you until a very familiar looking man caught you.

Imagine taunting him to not create a scene in such a setting to avoid any disruptive commotion. Imagine the low whispers of questions and threats—all which are empty, of course.

Imagine twirling his tie around your fingers to watch him struggle to hold back his actions in front of the public.

But what if at the end of the party, there was a crime scene? With your presence absent in the entire hall. He’s lost you once again.

- tired

wriothesley x gn!reader warnings: mild swearing, mentions of drinks / alcohol, mention of food notes: FHDHFJDJDHSJSJSHDHD HELP I LOVE THIS IDEA SM

his eyes track you from across the sea of people gathered in the ballroom, watching you make small talk among other guests. despite the masquerade, he’d recognize that cocky grin and laugh anywhere. a subtle scowl makes its way onto wriothesley’s face as you catch his eye and wink at him. the glass in his hand practically cracks with how tight he grips it.

“sir, are you alrig-” he downs the contents of the decorative chalice in one go, setting it down on the table and pushing himself to walk through the crowd.

“i’m fine. please, excuse me.”

there’s a buzz in his veins as he grows closer, one that he can’t be sure is from the alcohol or the rising heat in his cheeks as he watches you smile.

there’s a tap on your shoulder. chatter around you dies down as people disperse away to make room and mingle with others. you turn your head, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. the black mask with silver lining dons his face, obscuring most features from view. you smile wider.

“to what do i owe the pleasure of this visit, good sir?”

“cut the crap, y/n,” he grumbles out. “why are you here?”

“this is a public party, is it not?” you sip lightly on the punch in your hand. “do tell me why i’m not granted the curtesy of being here.”

“i just find it funny that the most notorious thief to wander the streets just so happens to be at the unveiling of newly prized artifacts,” he whispers lowly. “forgive me and my suspicions , but it just seems too obvious to be coincidental.”

he wanted you to drop the coy act, to cower and run. what he didn’t expect was the bold laugh that burst from your chest.

“oh, darling,” you said between dying chuckles, wiping fake tears from your eye, “it took you that long to realize?”

wriothesley whips his head around. there’s a sudden scream as the alarms for the ballroom go off, blaring sirens that cut through the many conversations of the party go-ers. he goes to grab your arm but you quickly take hold of his tie, swinging him and pressing his lower back against the table. the drink platter clatters behind him as he’s forced to look at you clearly.

“looks like that’s my cue to leave,” you whispered excitedly with eyes blown wide with glee, like a child who got candy for christmas. “better luck next time, wriothesley.”

he bits back a shout, watching you saunter off into the middle of chaos undetected. as much as he wants to tackle you to the ground and arrest you for your crimes, he’d be going off of baseless tongue; your word against his. there’s no proof of you having possession of the stolen goods on your person.

wriothesley heaves out a sigh and straightens up, adjusting his crooked tie and inhales deeply, hoping that when he walks in to command peace and a calm investigation, that his face isn’t flushed a pinkish hue.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #genshin scenarios #! notepad.txt

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loaffofbred · 9 months

Text

Q!Foolish and Q!Cellbit's convo was interesting...

NOTE: All ppl mentioned are the characters not ccs! And all of this is simply interpretation :)

The whole Foolish and Cellbit convo was super interesting, because you can tell Foolish has a different reason for asking his questions. Foolish is super cryptic when he wants to be, and usually likes testing the waters when it comes to doing future actions which is what makes this conversation so interesting! What makes it better is that Cellbit definitely knows theres something behind Foolish's words and questions, but wants to also know more about Foolish in general to kinda predict what he may do in the future in connection with the feds.

FOOLISH: "When I helped you with the castle.. (...) Was I a bad guy for that?"

This question is so interesting, at least for me. Because this means Foolish is curious what Cellbit's morality is, what he views as right and wrong. This also may shed light to Foolish's own moral compass, and also implies him trying to comprehend what others think about certain actions that may consider as controversial. He's trying to find out what others may think if he did something similar, helping a dubious figure that is considered a 'bad person'. This also maybe him trying to confirm Cellbit's full opinion on the federation, especially in terms of someone working with them, whether to infiltrate or side with them. He further tries understanding Cellbit's POV even more! Asking him that despite him fully knowing that Cellbit was a part of the feds, would that consider him bad? Cellbit answered with no, telling Foolish what he thought of him, telling him he thinks Foolish didn't necessarily knew the full consequences of his actions when arresting Pac and Mike, and was simply doing it for fun.

Technically not wrong, but not fully right. He was definitely doing it for the shits and giggles, but also for Mr. Mustard, even more is that he's always curious how people and the feds will respond to certain actions. He definitely knew some of the consequences but not all, especially the intense revenge of Tazercraft.

FOOLISH: "But, what if I do it again?" ('it' being arresting people or doing other tasks for the feds) CELLBIT: "Uhm... That would make me sad" FOOLISH: "Hmm, yeah, I figured as much"

Hmm, even I'm wondering why he's asking Cellbit this since its pretty obvious he wouldn't like it. Maybe to figure out how others including Cellbit will react to him doing something with the feds again, if that would jeopardize another friendship. It's interesting since he clearly knows how suspicious he sounds, but because of how unpredictable he can be, its hard to know if this implies he would work with the feds again or plan on doing severe action again.

FOOLISH: "Do you think its impossible to play all sides?" CELLBIT: "Eventually, It will" FOOLISH: "Yeah, yeah, and you know what? I think I agree with you there, sadly"

What an even more revealing question and answer! Foolish definitely tries to play all sides, since both sides have benefits whether socially or in a more security reason. Foolish agreeing to this is scary and even more dubious, because that means he acknowledges he might need to choose a side soon, knowing that he will eventually be forced to do so. By knowing how Cellbit and majority people may think, he can weigh in on the benefits and disadvantages with both sides. His choice remains a mystery at this point, because of his neutrality, its a hard decision to make.

CELLBIT: "Let's hope you make the right choice when the time comes, right?" FOOLISH: "Hahaha, listen, listen Cellbit. I might be stupid, but I'm not an idiot"

That line goes crazy btw- and reveals even more about him! This implies that he may do some dumb things sometimes, but that doesn't mean he's fully ignorant of people's intentions and actions. He isn't ignorant of the feds manipulative ways, if anything, he's capitalizing on it! He knows he's being manipulated and thats what makes it interesting to him. I think he said this to make sure that Cellbit doesn't underestimate or look at his decisions on the surface level, look deeper, think deeper. Yes, he might be silly at times, but that doesn't make him unaware of what surrounds him. He's signaling this Cellbit because he knows the guy's smart enough to read between the lines.

This convo was so interesting in both perspectives. They're dancing around a topic they know that they will eventually have to face each other off. This'll be interesting to see... I'm excited which side will Foolish inevitably choose!

#qsmp #qsmp foolish #qsmp cellbit #qsmp rambles

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kaivenom · 29 days

Text

My favourite book came to life?

Summary: you went with your brother's to solve a case but when you get there you start to realize similarities with the murders and witnesses with your favourite book.

Pairing: Gabriel x Winchester!reader

Warnings: none, murder scenes? but not explicit written

Masterlist

Finally the ride ended, you loved your brothers but being on a car with them for eight hours was suffocating sometimes. You closed your favourite book, the ride let you read it once again.

You checked in on the motel and create your covers, this time you were a FBI rookie again, you are always the rookie because you are the younger.

You three spent all the morning asking witnesses and seeing the murder scenarios. Something about the settings was strange, more strange than a creature killing people , this procedure sounds familiar to you somehow.

---------------------------------------

Two days passed since you got on the town and two new murders occured. Officially the assasin it's someonw who read your favourite book.

"I tell you guys, maybe it's a normal serial killer who it's a nerd for this book."

"I think we should be here one more day to check the theory."

That afternoon you visited the new witness, she opened the door dressed like a character from the book and refused to be called by her real name.

"Officially it's a monster, she is completely brain-washed."

"How can we talk to her? Use your book knowledge."

After one hour you convinced her to speak to you about it, you told her you were the inspector from the book and she started to open up.

You said goodbye to the woman and left the house, before getting into the impala, your Dean picked some candy wrapping from the floor.

"Son of a bitch."

"It's the trickster."

"Who?" you repplied confused.

"It's someone we dealed with twice, he is a total pain in the ass," by his faced you could see that he is, "he can alter the reality and change his appareance, all of this it's his game."

"Maybe the only way to get out it's follow it, back there i was the inspectorfrom the book, and this morning the witnesses weren't brain washed, his game its escalating, we need to adapt."

"And for what porpuse?"

"Reveal the mistery and capture the assain." you said quoting the protagonist of the novel."

------------------

Your strategy worked, you advanced a lot on the case, you almost got him. It was raining outside but you needed to clear your mind, just like the inspector you think, so you got outside and leaning against the motel wall under a shelter from the rain.

You noticed someone with a coat and a black umbrella, just like the final witness of the book, the one who gives the final hint to get the killer.

He got to your side and hand you a letter, you couldn't recognize his face from the town but that doesn't matter. You run to your brothers to give them the information. The chart talked about the police officer and his name, just like the book.

You three went fast to the police man's house to get him in hopes that the game ends and find the trickster. The man was in fact in his house and you arrested him because he was human but no trace of the supernatural one.

"So, we were wrong?" Dean was starting to get frustated.

"No, the trickster it's on town, how else can the victims have that personalities..." while they continue to argue you realized somethin.

"Shut up, i think the letter it's an anagram."

Half and hour and you were going to the location on the chart, a storage outside the village. When you entered you found the man who gave you letter.

"It was you, you killed those people," you are not able to hide the rage of having been fooled by that man, creature.

"I didn't kill them, the officer killed them and i didn't care but then i read this book," he showed to you like it was a comercial, "and thought about taking the opportunity to try some new ideas."

"Disgusting."

"I made it obvious for your brothers to come but i didn't thought about you gorgeous," he started to get close to you, "how are you related to them?"

"Hey, relax with our sister, mate."

"But at first they where just settings, later they started to be characters, why?" you asked, trying to ignore your brothers's attack of protectivity.

"Because i saw you and i was intrigued. You read the book and you found the similiarities but you needed a little hint, i supposed you would love a litte roleplay."

"I like it, not the killing humans part but the yes."

"Are you guys really flirting at this moment?"

"Perhaps we can meet again some other time."

"If there are no murders yet."

"I will have that on mind." he smiled playfully and blew you a kiss from the air before snapping his fingers and dissapearing.

"Son of a bitch, he escaped again, if you weren't flirting with him..."Dean almost screamed at your ear.

"Sorry okay? i didn't know he can do that, you should thell me more about him the next time."

"Oh no, we are not going to talk about him, we don't want you to date him, seeing how you two were right there."

Sam only laughed a little behind you and you three made your way to the impala. When you sat on the backseat and oppened your book, there was a paper with some numbers, a phone number. Smart and pretty Trickster.

#spn #spn imagine #spn x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #gabriel #gabriel imagine #gabriel x reader #spn gabriel #spn gabriel x reader #spn gabriel imagine #trickster #trickster imagine #trickster x reader

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teabutmakeitazure · 11 months

Note

"Chrollo, could you stop all the mindgames already?!"

You can feel a part of the mattress going back to its original shape, an added sudden dip of it signalling that he’s resting his upper body on his elbow or palm. Whichever it is, you can’t tell. Your back is facing him after all.

Despite your little outburst, Chrollo’s voice is calm and low behind you, his warmth still painfully present underneath the blanket. “What do you mean? I’m only trying to strike up a conversation.”

The coy attitude serves to rile you up further, the strain from having to dodge his intrusive questions all day finally taking its toll. “Stop acting so overly innocent, you obsequious fiend.”

“Well, if you wish not to indulge me, you should simply say so. Anger only makes you cuter, dear.” The smile in his voice is obvious. “I don’t understand why you choose to be hostile. Communication in a relationship is important.”

You groan. “You’re doing it again!”

“Doing what exactly?”

“The mind games. It’s frankly quite annoying. Stop it.”

Again, he plays innocent. “I think that’s called attempting conversation.” The bed dips again completely. “Perhaps your sour attitude is because you’re tired.”

“Yes, I am tired. Tired of you doing all this.”

The blanket briefly rises and you can feel the warmth of his body behind you. "Well, dearest, it's best you get some sleep then." Chrollo gently snakes an arm around you, forearm secured right under your ribcage. "I'll be bothering you in the morning as well."

"I hope you suffer cardiac arrest in your sleep."

"Good night to you too."

#darling: *obviously angry and willing to bite if he gets closer*#chrollo: 🥰#AzureTea requests #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo

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totowlff · 7 months

Text

chapter three — first lecture

➝ toto discovers that giving himself to a woman is the best thing that can happen to a man

➝ word count: 3,1k

➝ warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, masturbation, oral sex, cum play, praise kink

➝ author’s note: i could be arrested for this. i hope I'm not.

Three days.

Ava's silence lasted three seemingly endless days.

Three days in which Toto couldn't stop thinking about her and the way she had, with just a few words, brought him to his knees. The way she had made him beg for a touch, for an action, for an order to finally experience what she was capable of providing for him.

However, the first order he had received as Ava’s submissive was to leave.

The walk back to the car that night was bitter. It wasn't like Toto wasn't used to life's setbacks or frustrations, but it reached a deeper layer of him. It wasn't like losing a race or having a bad date, but something worse, more painful. It was like being rejected, humiliated, like he wasn't good enough for Ava to give her attention to.

Toto felt suffocated, and he could only do one thing after he got into the driver's seat of the car.

— Fuck! — he shouted, punching the steering wheel.

In the following days, a cooler head prevailed, and Toto was able to reflect better on what had happened and ended up concluding the obvious: what had happened had been the result of his behavior and not necessarily Ava's will. However, he still believed that he deserved a second chance to show that he was capable of obeying her the way she wanted.

The chance came through a message, simply with the day, time and location. And there he was, in exactly the same place as 72 hours before, with his heart pounding inside his chest.

Ava opened the door with a mischievous smile on her nude painted lips.

— Good evening, little boy — she said, in a sensual tone that ran through Toto's body like a caress. “Focus, for God’s sake, focus,” he thought to himself.

— Good evening, ma'am.

He walked through the door with his shoulders tense, trying to focus on his own breathing and not on the way Ava looked at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, much less on the black satin robe with its far from modest neckline. After locking the apartment door, she asked him to come with her, the click of her high heels echoing through the hallway.

Upon entering the gray room, Toto felt a different aroma invade his nostrils. It was a smell that reminded him of the perfume Ava wore, with its musky and sweet notes, but without the main element that made that aroma unique, which was the smell of her skin.

That thought made a warm wave run through his skin.

— Is everything okay? — Ava asked.

— Yes, ma'am.

— I hope you've used the last few days to rethink your behavior — she said, as she went to the bed and sat down on the mattress, which was strangely empty, with just a dark sheet on it.

— Yes, I did, ma'am — Toto said, making a conscious effort to keep his eyes on Ava's face and not on the skin exposed by her robe’s neckline.

— I assume that this time you will follow our protocol correctly, right?

He pursed his lips.

— I will, ma'am.

— Then, we can begin, as before.

Letting out a sigh, Toto began to undress, starting with the baby blue shirt he was wearing. Then, it was time to undo the belt and the cream-colored pants, sliding the fabric down the legs along with the underwear. Unlike the first time, when the excitement he felt became painful, he was a little more relaxed, calm. In the end, he needed to be, especially if he wanted to please Ava. And that's what he wanted most, as he knelt on the floor, his eyes fixed on the pale wood.

A few seconds of silence passed inside the room.

— Did you touch yourself before you came here? — Ava asked, her voice stern.

— No, ma'am.

— You know I'll find out if you did — she said, the creaking of the bed springs as well as the click of her shoes indicating that she had gotten up — And you already know I'm not the merciful type when it comes to punishments.

Toto couldn't find any answer to give Ava. He knew that if he tried to deny it, she would distrust his word, even if it was the truth. In this room, he needed to choose his battles carefully, especially if he wanted the chance to have her for himself.

After a few more seconds of silence, he heard the muffled sound of something landing on the ground, but he didn't dare move. He couldn't fail at that moment, he couldn't miss that chance.

— Good boy — Ava said, softly — You can raise your head.

Looking up, Toto noticed that her robe was on the floor, allowing him to finally see her body. Wearing lace lingerie, the arabesques embroidered in black thread left little to his imagination, allowing Toto to not only see her hard nipples beneath the fabric, but also to catch a glimpse of her pussy.

Ava was beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

— Stand up — she ordered, her voice firm.

Rising quickly, Toto felt the familiar tingling begin to grow below his navel, as well as his skin getting warmer and warmer. It was impossible not to feel that way, especially when his eyes couldn't move away from Ava's breasts, whose size was perfect for his hands. He wanted to touch her, needed to touch her.

— Do you like it? — she asked.

— What? — Toto returned, confused.

— Do you like what you see?

He felt his heart beating heavily inside his chest, as she approached him.

— Yes, ma'am.

— Do you want to touch me? — Ava questioned, stopping in front of him.

Toto blinked.

— Would you let me, ma'am?

Ava smiled a little.

— Why not? — she said, her hand moving up his chest until it stopped on his face — After all, you’ve been such a good boy tonight, respecting all my rules...

He felt his breath catch in his throat.

— Please, ma'am — Toto managed to whisper, his skin burning where Ava was touching him.

After sliding her tongue across her lips, she brought Toto's face towards her, capturing his lips in a slow, delicate kiss. Placing his hands carefully on her waist, he felt as if fireworks were exploding inside him, while a taste of alcohol, similar to cognac, invaded his taste buds. He had never been a fan of that drink, but tasting it on Ava's tongue was completely different.

He wanted more.

Pulling away slightly, Ava was breathing heavily.

— Do you want to continue? — she asked.

—That's what I want most, ma’am.

— Then lie down on the bed, little boy.

Taking a deep breath, he turned away from Ava and walked over to the mattress. After brushing his fingertips against the sheet, which reminded him of satin, he settled down, while the high heels’ clicks indicated that his dominant was walking around the bed. However, the expectation that consumed him inside prevented him from turning his face to follow her movement.

— A little to the middle — she ordered, to which Toto promptly complied. Then, taking one of his arms, Ava wrapped a satin sash around his wrist, tying it tightly — Is that okay?

— Yes, ma'am.

Then it was the turn of his legs and then, his other arm, all immobilized with the same type of satin sash, the touch of which was soft but firm against his skin. After she asked him to test the knots to confirm that all movement was restricted, Ava finally climbed onto the bed, positioning herself between his open legs.

— I think you deserve an explanation for what happened that night — she said, as she placed a hand on his thigh.

— You mean…

— The reason I sent you away.

He swallowed hard.

— It was because I disobeyed you, right? — Toto whispered.

— Well, that was one part of it — Ava replied — But it wasn't just that.

His eyes met hers as her hand caressed his leg.

— I sent you away to show that, even though the submissive has an important role in the bedroom, the dominant person decides what will happen and if it will happen — she continued — If one party isn’t invested or doesn't want it, nothing will happen, and I wasn’t invested that night. I didn’t want to do anything.

— But, you made me take off my clothes — Toto stuttered, as he felt Ava's fingers move up his skin.

— Because I wanted to find out if you were really willing to submit to me. If you wouldn't give up the moment I put my vision into practice. If you wouldn't go back to your normal posture as soon as I started touching you — she said, as she lightly brushed a fingernail along the length of his cock — And, if I may say so, you surprised me, little boy.

— Surprised? — he asked in a low voice, trying not to let the almost unbearable heat running through his skin take his focus off his conversation with Ava.

— I thought it would take longer to tame you, so to speak — she replied, wrapping her hand around his cock, her thumb brushing the underside of his tip — But I could tell that you really wanted to submit to me. You just needed to learn to control your own desires first.

— Control?

— Yes, control — Ava said, a small smile on her face as she stroked him slowly, almost like a tease — You have no idea the things you can feel when you are able to control your own impulses, instincts and desires.

— I want — he stuttered, feeling a warm wave run over his own skin.

— What do you want?

— I want to learn — Toto said, stopping when Ava's palm brushed against the head of his dick. After sighing deeply, he managed to continue — To control myself, ma'am.

The menace and glee that shone in her eyes was undeniable. He had said what she wanted to hear.

— And you will, little boy — Ava replied — Tonight.

Moving her hand up and down, she began to pump her hand up and down his cock, building a rhythm without rush or urgency. Her fingers squeezed his dick with the right pressure, which, combined with the movement, made Toto close his eyes and let out a low, but audible moan.

— Do you like it, little boy?

— Mhm — he murmured, feeling the familiar pressure build just below his navel.

— Do you want me to go faster? — Ava asked.

— Yes, please, yes — Toto moaned, his hands searching for something to hold on to, but stopping at the restraints she had put on his wrists.

— Yes? — she slowed down the movement of her hands, causing a whimper to escape his lips — Just yes?

— Yes, ma'am — he managed to stammer, making her smile.

— Good boy — Ava murmured, before resuming the rhythm of ministrations.

From that point on, Toto could no longer pay attention to Ava's hands or her look full of malice. He could only focus on the feeling of her fingers sliding down his cock, taking him to the place he had imagined going so many times after entering that room.

— Are you close?

— Yes, ma’am — Toto panted.

— You need to come, don't you? You need to feel your cum dripping from your dick, covering my entire hand, don't you? There's nothing more you want than that, right? Tell me.

— Please, ma'am, please...

— Tell me what you want, tell me what you're thinking — Ava ordered.

— I want — he tried to elaborate, but her voice dissolved into a growl as she began to use her thumb on the back of the tip of his dick, where the head met the rest. It was as if Ava had shocked him, her entire body twitching deliciously at just the light brush of her finger.

— I can only do what you want if you tell me, little boy — she murmured, as he felt something warm fall on the head of his cock. Opening his eyes with difficulty, Toto realized that Ava was spreading saliva over the sensitive skin, her tongue moistening her lips, as if she was preparing them to finally break him for good.

— I want to come, ma’am.

She smiled, mischievously.

— But, already? — Ava asked, as she adjusted herself on the bed. Positioned on her stomach, her face was close to his dick, which was shining in the soft light of the room — I've barely started...

— Ma’am, please…

— Who knew you would be such a needy little thing, Wolff — she murmured, while one of her hands massaged his balls — So desperate for something so simple, that you could do it yourself...

Toto no longer knew how to respond, especially when the desire made his entire body tense, his muscles begging for relief.

— Please — he whimpered again.

— But you preferred to wait for me, for my touch — Ava said, placing a kiss on his leg — That shows how good you can be for me, little boy. And I'm sure you can be even better.

As he felt Ava's warm tongue slide along his member, Toto felt his eyes fill with tears, a loud moan escaping his lips. This was definitely torture.

— Ava — he whispered, groaning again when her finger brushed the spot behind the head of his dick again. However, she suddenly stopped. Opening his eyes, he found Ava rising from the spot between her legs, a serious, almost grim expression on her face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toto thought.

— Ava? Did you call me Ava?

— No, no, I didn’t…

— Am I going to have to go over the rules with you?

— No, no, please don’t…

Then, a loud crack, followed by a burning sensation on his inner thigh, made him whimper, trying to move away. However, Toto felt no pain, much less discomfort from the slap he had received.

He felt pleasure, which spread in a warm wave through his body.

— Here, I'm not Ava — she said, in a serious tone — I'm your mistress. Your ma’am. The only woman who can make you feel good. Got it, boy?

— Yes, ma'am — the words came out in a thin voice, while her hand slowly pumped his member again.

Letting his head fall on the mattress, Toto's breathing was heavy, as if he were doing a strenuous exercise, even though he was still, just being touched by Ava. And, as agonizing as it was, he wasn't sorry for having handed himself over to her. If he was good, she would reward him, he was sure.

And he was doing his best to be good to her, even though the sensation of explosion was imminent, the muscles in his legs quivering as she kept pace with the thrusts of her fist.

— You’re already close, aren't you? — Ava asked, in a teasing voice, making him raise his head — I can feel your balls contracting, as well as your cock. You don't want to, you need to come, don't you?

— Please, please, please…

— Why should I let you come, little boy?

Toto's mind was filled with fog, words lost on dry lips. He couldn't think about anything other than the pressure of Ava's hand around his dick, the feeling so close and yet so far from orgasm. He just needed that, he just needed her to take him to heaven like she promised if he was good.

He had been good, he was sure he had been good.

— Please — Toto stammered.

— I asked you a question, boy. And I want an answer.

— I’ve been good, ma'am. I was good.

Ava then gave a smile, not malicious or mischievous, but sincere.

— You have been very good for me, little boy — she said, as she repositioned herself, kneeling on the mattress — Now, you're going to count down from ten, slowly, and, as soon as you reach zero, you're allowed to come, okay?

— Yes, ma'am — Toto replied, his voice trembling.

Satisfied with the answer, she moved her mouth to his dick, moving her head up and down the length, using her hands to stimulate the base. That was all it took for him to fall back onto the mattress, his eyes rolling back and a knot getting tighter and tighter below his navel.

— Ten... Nine... Eight — he began to count, clasping his hands that were bound by the satin sashes, his nails digging into his skin — Seven... Six... Five...

Ava's mouth was hot, the suction was perfect, the pressure from her fingers was ideal. She had been born to suck him, to take him whole in her mouth and show him what real pleasure was.

— Four… Three… Two… One…

Then, Ava lifted her face from his dick, speeding up the movement of her hand.

— Zero — he groaned, before giving in to the overwhelming sensation that ran through his body.

The ecstasy caused him to release himself onto Ava's hand and his own belly, a loud moan escaping his lips, his chest heaving as he arched his back. The sensation was sublime, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. there. It was as if every orgasm before that had been shallow, perfunctory, almost like an obligation.

This orgasm, though, was a reward for being good, for obeying his mistress. It was more delicious than he could have imagined.

Shutting his eyes close, he didn't see her expression as she watched him reach his apex for the first time. However, somewhere in the back of his mind, Toto could hear Ava whispering softly, almost like a caress in his ears.

— You have no idea how beautiful you are, coming for me — she said, as her fingertips slid down his shaft, collecting the white liquid that had flowed from his cock — So beautiful, so perfect, just like I imagined.

Leaning over his body, Ava stopped close to his face with a smile on her lips. Then, she brought her index finger to the tip of her tongue, tasting his release. The sight was enough for a shiver to run through his body, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

— You're delicious, little boy — she said, bringing her fingers to his mouth. Ava didn't need to say anything for him to open his lips and taste his own pleasure, the sweet and slightly metallic flavor invading his taste buds — The most delicious I've ever tasted.

Slipping her fingers out of his mouth, she slid the tips of them down his abdomen, collecting more cum. Taking them again for Toto to lick, he did so voraciously, his eyes fixed on Ava's, while she smiled, satisfied, just the way he wanted.

— I'm going to untie you, okay? — she whispered, as his tongue slipped over her fingers, cleaning them. With a positive nod, Ava removed her fingers from his mouth and left the bed, busying herself with freeing him from the satin restraints. And it was watching her caress one of the marks left by the knots on his skin that Toto was sure.

Ava was unlike any woman he had ever met.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #wlffog #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff smut #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #liowlff

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section-chief-prentiss · 8 months

Text

Breakdown

Summary: Your first loss in the field leaves you shaken up. Fortunately, Emily is there to comfort you.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 918

Ao3

This case had taken a mental toll on you. You’d promised the victim that you would catch the UnSub, and you had, but not before he circled back and killed the woman you’d promised you’d save.

At the station, after the arrest, the team kept a watchful eye on you. For once, you found yourself grateful that you were spending a night in a hotel instead of flying home right away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stay composed on the long flight home.

You had just enough strength to keep yourself together in front of them and in the car on the way back to the hotel, but when you made it up to your room and closed the door behind you, the floodgates opened.

You leaned against the closed door, unable to make it further. Your vision blurred with unshed tears, and there was a tightness in your chest that made each breath more difficult than the last.

You panted out shallow breaths, unable to fill your lungs with air. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hoping that the pressure would keep you from completely falling apart.

“Oh, Y/N,” a gentle voice said from somewhere in the room.

You swatted at the tears in your eyes, clearing your vision enough to find that Emily was standing on the opposite side of the room.

“Em,” you sniffed. “Sorry, am I in the wrong room?”

You glanced around, but sure enough, your go-bag was sitting in its usual spot in the corner.

“No,” she said, taking a few tentative steps forward. “I coerced a key from the front desk worker. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That earned a small smirk from you. “How’d you manage that?”

“I may have flashed my badge,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, I’m fine,” you lied. “You can go back to your room.”

You stepped away from the door to make space for her. She closed the distance between the two of you, but to your surprise, instead of leaving, she took your hand and guided you forward.

“No,” she said. “You’re not okay. And I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

Your voice trembled. “I promised Maria she would be okay. I promised–” Your voice broke, and you couldn’t continue.

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you collapsed onto the bed, turning away from Emily. You were mortified that she was seeing you fall apart. You’d been harboring a crush on her since the day you were introduced at the BAU, and every day you worked together, every time you were partnered in the field, you fell harder and deeper. It was becoming more difficult to hide your feelings for her, and you didn’t want her to see you this vulnerable, risk her running away and losing her completely.

But Emily wasn’t phased. She joined you on the bed, sitting up, and resting her back against the headboard.

“Hey,” Emily said, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t do that; you don’t have to hide from me.”

Hesitantly, you turned back around and used her legs as a pillow. Emily gently combed her fingers through your hair.

“The first loss is the hardest,” Emily said knowingly. “Not that they get easier, but with time, you learn how to cope. You lean on your team; it’s what we’re here for.”

“I can’t do this,” you said, exhaling a shaky breath.

“I know it’s hard,” Emily said. “But you’re an amazing agent, and you’re meant to be in the field. I know you can do this, but if you need a break, we can talk to Hotch—”

“No,” you said, sitting up to meet her dark eyes. “I can’t do this with you.”

Emily said nothing as you took a deep breath and continued. “I can’t pretend like I don’t love you anymore.”

Emily’s face fell, and your heart plummeted into your stomach.

“Oh, love,” Emily said, cupping her palm around your cheek. “Have I not made it obvious enough? How completely in love I am with you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had, in fact, not noticed that at all. You were so sure you were reading into things, seeing signs that weren’t there…

Emily ran her thumb across your furrowed forehead. “I love that you’re such an open book—I can always tell when you’re thinking, or overthinking.”

“Why do you think I always volunteer to pair with you in the field?” She asked.

“Well, I knew we were friends, but I never thought—”

“Why do you think I spend more time at your place than my own?”

“You said you liked my place better!”

“And why do you think I jumped in front of a bullet for you last month?”

“Because—” you cut yourself off, the realization dawning on you. “Oh my god. You’re in love with me.”

Emily flushed. “Finally, you notice,” she said, crushing her lips against yours.

As happy as you were, it didn’t erase the ache in your heart from the loss you experienced. When you pulled away from Emily, your eyes were watering once more.

“Come here, love,” Emily said, pulling the blankets aside, crawling under them, and patting the space next to her.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You shimmied under the covers, and Emily wrapped her arms around you, holding you close.

You spent the rest of the night with her in your arms, and you couldn’t imagine ever letting go.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #pagetbrewster #paget brewster #emilyprentiss

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starqueensthings · 9 months

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Here’s the quote lovely! Take your time! I’m so glad you wanted to participate!

“may my heart

be the softest place you fall,

may this love

be the wildest place you run”

I am stoked to see what you come up with! 💖

(I got carried away 🙂)

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader

Inspired by @anxiouspineapple99’s lovely prompt.

Warning: GENUINELY not proof read. Sorry for all the inevitable comma splices and passive verbs, because Wrecker, is that a bagel?

“Quick, Mesh’la! Climb!”

His tone was frenzied, hurried, panicked, and yet somehow still dripping with the same wild glee that never failed to emerge in the direst of times.

“I’m trying!” you gasped, heart hammering heavily in your ears as you urgently heaved yourself up the narrow, rusty ladder, ignoring the sharp flakes of paint that kept breaking away from each rung and embedding themselves into your palm. “You didn’t tell me I’d be climbing an old fucking ladder on the side of a building, Fives, or I wouldn’t have worn heels.”

“Why would I tell you and ruin the fun?” he jeered from below you, failing to repress the chuckle that accompanied the infuriating grin on his lips.

“This is fun?” you demanded, halting your movements entirely to glare down at him.

“I swear it’ll be fun when we get there!” he defended, nodding toward the top of the ladder still a dozen feet above your head.

“If we don’t get kriffing arrested first,” you grumbled, giving him an indignant shake of the head and a roll of your eyes.

“Yeah, well… they’re not far behind us so I’m not holding my breath,” he answered with a snort. “Here’s hoping whoever is holding the handcuffs likes your pink panties as much as I do, because I think they’re going to be our ticket out of this.”

“Fives!” you gasped, pausing again to jam the hem of your dress between your legs, humiliation threatening to send your cheeks aflame.

“Hey, don’t cover the goods!” he protested, reaching up and yanking the fabric from its unceremonious pinch between your thighs. “I was enjoying the view.”

“I’m going to murder you once my hands are free.”

“Talk kinky to me later, Babe. For now, just climb a little faster… I can see their flashlights around the corner.”

At the top of the ladder was the expanse of a commercial rooftop; the apparent poor craftsmanship of the structure now below your feet had caused significant pooling of water in some areas… yet despite the obvious derelict and despair, the sight before you had instantly robbed you of breath. Your mouth fell open, and without a second thought to the fear that had sent you frantically scrambling up a decrepit ladder in the darkness mere seconds ago, you eagerly took the dozen steps toward the opposite side of the rooftop, deftly pulling your shoes from your feet and tossing them haphazardly to the ground beside you.

Barely inches from your toes was a seemingly infinite drop into the underworld; a column of emptiness encircled with hundreds of thousands of lights, the coil of radiance so descending so deeply into the core of the planet, that their luminescence simply became no match for the sheer distance. A quick glance upward lay the infamous Coruscanti skyline; as majestic as it was endless, and as breathtaking as the audacity of the man who’d led you here.

“Thought you’d like this.” His hands slithered their way around your waist, pulling you tenderly backward until your body was flush with his.

“It’s… gorgeous,” you breathed, tipping your head backward to his chest as he perched his chin atop your shoulder.

“Yup, you sure are.”

You pursed your lips against a grin that would too eagerly expose just how happy you were to be in his company. Since that night that he’d feigned ignorance and asked for help racking up a set of pool balls in the dim lighting of 79’s, Fives, and all his mischievous endeavours, had kept you entirely on your toes. And while his affinity for “fun” was one of the things you loved most about him, it was moments like this that you held close to your heart when the harrowing loneliness of his extended deployments threatened to dismantle your resolve to spend forever with him. It was these quiet spans of only a blink where all distraction went ignored; these seemingly frozen seconds where your love for each other remained impenetrable by the menial factors of time and space; times like this when nothing except the feeling of his fingers between yours and his breath tickling your neck mattered in the grand scheme of life. If you had Fives, you had enough… you had everything.

“I love you,” you whispered, reaching up to weave your fingers into his dark hair.

“I love you too, Cyare.”

You tipped your head back, eyes fluttering closed in preparation for the euphoric feeling of his lips against yours, for the taste of him on your tongue, for his hands to tighten their grip around your body.

“THERE THEY ARE!”

“YOU TWO! HALT AND STATE YOUR BUSINESS.”

Your shoulders jerked in fright at the sudden intrusion; the flashlights that you’d spent the last ten minutes evading, now directing their stark beams of light directly into your eyes, but neither of you moved a muscle.

“THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY,” the officer continued to intone loudly. “HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM.”

“Should I throw my panties at them?” you whispered coyly against his lips.

“Honestly? I kinda wanna keep them…” Fives risked stealing another tender peck before saying, “Your shoes will have to stay here though. Get ready to run.”

“Wha-?”

“Now!”

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @blueink-bluesoul @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar

#writing prompt #my first ever #will I ever recover #the clone wars #clone wars fives #arc trooper fives #fives x reader #fives x you #starqueenswrittenworks

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iceunhie · 7 months

Note

hello!! happy 200 followers :)

could i please request a drabble with a spy au with heizou? with hero! heizou x villain! reader as romantic fluff for your event? thank you so much! and congrats on 200 once again <3

slippery as an eel in water | shikanoin heizou.

third submission !! oh my god is heizou even in character.... anyways this is kinda set in half spy and half manhwa-ish??? au idkwman i hope i satisfy u with this, nonnie 😭 anyways haha this is a weird title but it makes sense. reader is flirty so if that's what you're into then im glad if it's not then um. well.

[3/5] herospy!heizou x criminal!reader (morally grey villain) (spy/manhwa-ish au) wc 1.2k, romantic fluff. enemies to lovers. slightly chaotic format. reblogs are appreciated.

Heizou trusts his intuition.

It is his guiding hand in his journey as one of Inazuma's renowned heroes (how he was dubbed as one was beyond his interest) his ally in his quest to enact justice to those who disrupt the city's peace, his only assistant in his pursuit of criminals who have no business tainting his homeland with their irresponsible crimes. He has never ignored its judgment, nor its pull.

Now though? Seeing you, the most infamous of said criminals lounging in his office without a care in the world after a recent stealth mission of his? His intuition screams at him to arrest you and put you to prison under the Tenryou Commission's watchful eye. A good hero, a good detective, for that matter, would deem that as the primary action. But Heizou has never conformed to the standards usually met by others.

[First Name] [Last Name]. Codenamed Blank, due to the lack of information about their personal history and how his agency doesn't know a thing about them part from their full name. Which might not even be their real name at all.

One of Inazuma City's most controversial and notorious criminals — a master of elusiveness and theft, commiting immeasurable crimes right under the city's nose and remaining undeterred, boasting a bounty adding up to almost as much as the Fatui in Snezhnaya.

A criminal is sitting on his office table, waiting for his arrival. They've been Heizou's one and only focus for the past year, and the man was committed to finally catching you like he's always dreamed of. It's why he applied to be one of the Commission's intelligence agents, undertaking numerous spy missions all related to you. Still, still. When you greet him nonchalantly with a smile on your face without a care in the world, to which he definitely flinches slightly at, a little caught off guard, there's a slight challenge in your eyes, and he can't stop his mind from overruling his trusty intuition when he feels that strange, suffocating and overwhelming feeling you always seem to incite in him.

"So this is where the renowned sir Shikanoin resides when he's not off trying to catch criminals like little old me." there's a playful lilt to your tone, as if amused by the notion of him staying here.

Electro Archon help him, for all he could think about despite your obvious provocation is how your clothing matches you so well, the dark fabric clinging to your form like a shadow in the night. The faint sheen of the knife (an obvious sign of danger, but he doesn't care right now) glints when it hits the light from the window.

Thankfully, you don't seem to want to use it for now.

"Are you aware I can easily entrap you here with just a call of the doushin?" his voice, though a warning, falls flat as he takes in your position on the wide table he uses to put his case files in. In response to his poor threat, you simply release a chuckle, running your hand across your hair, and Heizou resists the urge to flush at your actions. You were a criminal, practically his arch-nemesis! Yet here you were prancing around his territory while wearing that dark camouflage clothing of yours which makes his heart stutter and break his carefully curated composure. Skimming through his casefiles from your position, you take one out from the stack of them and examine it. Of course it had to be your own. He can already see the glare of his red marker with the label 'Blank - [First Name] [Last Name].' He sees the faint scribbles of his notes and follow-ups to his investigation of you and there's a slight quirk of your lips when you read through it.

"Well, will you really do that? I doubt it." Heizou feels almost flustered when you shrug it off like it's nothing, and again, he feels that rush of something he can't name overtake his senses. This is what made you dangerous. You knew how to poke and prod and poke at blindspots and use whatever charm and wit you had at your disposal to carry out your goals, then vanish the moment he's thought he's had you in his sights. And he thought he was the unpredictable one.

For the twelve months of this little game of cat and mouse, you were the only criminal who he hasn't caught yet. The thought is infuriating and yet thrilling at the same time.

He will admit, he enjoys the chase. Even if you were dreadfully alluring and so difficult to wrangle. It was like you were an eel in water slipping his grasp the moment he puts his hand on you. A very breathtaking eel, if he had to push his eel metaphor agenda. Man alive, what was he even thinking right now?

Heizou stops his thoughts of you and focuses on the situation presented to him. You offered yourself up on a silver platter. Do you even know how easy it would be to just cuff you right now and bring you down?

Yet he doesn't, for some reason.

He needs to compose himself, he needs to focus. He can't let you get the upper hand. So he smiles pleasantly, his sage green eyes oozing with structured and amicably made facade.

"Then maybe you've come here to look for redemption? It's never too late to turn over a new leaf, you know. I'm very flattered that you came over to me despite our very… turbulent history. I didn't take you for one to be attracted to people who's here to bring you down."

A loud burst of laughter escapes you, and you wipe the tears in your eyes right afterwards. "You're still as strange as ever. I was right to find you."

"Find me?"

"Yep." you emphasize the p in your words, "And you're not wrong. I am attracted to that." God, you were shameless. He considers himself to be the smooth-talker here, but you....

"You're even more handsome up close, by the way. When you're not busy trying to trail after me like a lapdog."

"..."

Heizou can feel himself flush at the sheer audacity of your words, and what's more, he liked it.

"What do you really want?" he snaps, frowning. At his query, you get down from your position from his table, and go so close to him he could smell the faint notes of the earthy and rich scent of Cyprus wood on your person.

"It's not a want, per say, but–" you stop, before you face him and get close to his own that if he moved forward, he could kiss you. "I propose a temporary truce."

He blinks, before his eyebrows raise. You weren't the type to do this. This wasn't how your dynamic worked. He was the one who sought you out, not you.

"A truce? What for?" Though he tried to take on a questioning tone, Heizou swallows thickly from the close proximity between you two, his Adam's apple bobbing just a bit, which doesn't go unnoticed to you. And when you smile at him deviously (he can imagine the devilish horns on your head already) something tells him he was in for a very, very wild ride.

Heizou trusts his intuition.

Yet despite his intuition telling him that involving himself with you and even hearing you out was a bad idea, he puts the nagging feeling in his gut aside for now.

He's still following his intuition, of course. Totally.

His intuition may make him feel like he needs to actually think about his decision this time around, but at the genuine look on your face and that enchanting smile of yours he can't get out of his head…

Heizou slumps a little, as he sighs to himself internally. There's no harm in losing to curiosity now, anyway. Who knows? Maybe he can get more clues to who you are. Why you do things the way you do. Yeah, that's right. He's only getting information from the enemy. That's all.

"Hello? Detective Shikanoin? You there?"

He snaps his light green eyes to yours and he finally dons his signature cheeky disposition. He clears his throat, and he watches as you tilt your head in his grab for your attention.

"I still don't completely trust a criminal like you yet," you visibly roll your eyes, "But I'm willing to hear you out."

"Alright then, basically...." you begin to start, and Heizou can only hang on to every word. And no, he's definitely not admiring your side profile or how you look in the lighting of his office.

So, he'll put off trying to catch you for now, he supposes.

#astronetwrk #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #heizou x gender neutral reader #why is he really fine though like #his moles #he's attractive as hell and i wanted to fluster him so #here we are #🔖 — mhie's spirals #mhie's 200+ special !

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helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 3 months

Text

EPISODE 6 (just realised no one is asking me to do this too bad) spoilers for series up ahead

ITS NOT A MUSICAL EPISODE 😭

Disney was too broke to show us the animals in the zoo truck WHYY

why am i so happy for the second seaweed brain, man the things being a pjo fan does to you

The way you could see luke’s smile drop when they say that they found the lightning thief (:) —> :/)

The way luke didn’t even let them finish he was like “CLARISSE YES CLARISSE SHE MUST BE THE ROBBER”

No one’s talking about “Chiron should arrest her” Not the mental image of chiron holding a gun saying “ANY WORD CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU IN COURT” while clarisse is pushed into a police car lollll

Old married couple im falling out of my chair plsssss if luke did something right in his life it was this

i love annabeth’s face like she knew this was coming the older brother-sister dynamic is POPPING

Disney really needed a way to show that grover liked animals and had convos with them without actually showing them lol

cue the “omg animals are so elegant” speech which served nothing at all

WHATS THE POINT OF ZEBRA TO VEGAS IF THERE AIN’T NO ZEBRA MR HOUSE OF MOUSE????

Idk but i kind of miss the trio action so far this show has only been percabeth + grover instead of percy + annabeth + grover you can tell they’re focusing more on fan service and developing percabeth than developing the more important dynamics which are the three of them having fun

oh HELLO RANDOM CAMEL WHO ISNT EVEN A ZEBRA BUT WHATEVER

“You are two seconds ahead of meeee” the simp eyes the simp eyes

The lotus casino from the outside is so COOL

LEVITATING BY DUA LIPA (some of yall still stuck in poker face era so im leaving it at that)

WISE GIRL I REPEAT WE GOT WISE GIRL (i was honestly expecting it to sound super corny on screen but walker pulled it off like he always does)

look im so mad about the fact that there’s no montage of them being silly little kids and having fun at arcade games. It hits so hard since percy has never afforded to visit fun places, annabeth has never left camp so is absolutely thriving with her architect games, grover is hunting down humans which was so funny and cool and they decided to make it more serious and plot centred

”ill take percy this way” WHY CAN’T GROVER TAKE PERCY THAT WAY HUH ANNABETH? 🤨 (girl just say you want to spend time with him)(and disney say you just wanna write more percabeth scenes)

I love the ‘if you dont know, i dont know either 😄’ mentality that percy has, he knows annabeth wants to be in charge now so he’s just feeding into the hubris

The augustus plot was so weird ngl but it was a great way to introduce the pan stuff

“Biaannncaaaaa biancaaaaaa” NICCOOOOOOO

He sounds so little and innocent and cute 🥺 im so sad now

GROVERRRRRR REMEMBERRRRRR

i gotta say, i guess that i was taken away by the people making fun of lin manuel miranda, but his acting was really really good

We got some may castellan exposition early

Percy thinking that the only thing he could do to sally was hurting her 🥹

i really hope they talk about that later on, you know we love some angst around here (especially with the dreams of the headmaster which was from the books!!! I was thinking that they’d cut it! But they didnt!! But it speaks volumes about percy that he has nightmares of headmasters)

I WANT ANNABETH FLASHBACK ANGST

annabeth pickpocketing the god of thieves will forever be her girlbossiest moment

”Im multitalented” percy: 😍💙🥰🥹 🤩(walker’s acting be that amazing is it not obvious by now that percy likes annabeth)

“Who’s grover ☺️?” “Wait, i know grover 😅!” Walker is cementing himself in the percy throne every single episode

”wow grover got really old😃”

“you lose sight of what’s important when you’re alone” “we weren’t alone 🥰” poor grover

The eons long wait to see how percy was hugging while falling the way down is finally over

The way that you can see percy’s empathy shining through his eyes as grover talked about pan>>>> (honestly tho, hug!)

the way they focused on percy’s reaction, i know this is going to be something he brings up as a reason for him to sacrifice himself for hades

Percy and annabeth looking at grover like “ ok mr. 24 DRIVE US”

Percy trying to drive a car will forever be cinema and comedy peak

The road rage this child has its so funny BEEP BEEP

annabeth: 😁 percy: 🥹 *cutely crashes car and almost kills her* PERCY IS TRULY GIVING A LOSER BOY WHO HAS NEVER HAD A GIRL LOOK AT HIM AND THATS SO PERCY OF HIM

the heartbreak in percy’s eyes alexa play the moment i knew by taylor swift

Four pearls?? *cue that one meme where that girl is calculating*

the way my smile faded when i saw annabeth hanging over the cliff TOO SOON RICK TOO SOON

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soshaaaa · 4 months

Text

ObeyMe DEMON BROTHERS, but as Will Wood's songs!

i just love will wood, ok?

LUCIFER

♪She said, "It just feels inhumane to lose this much" / 'Cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love / Just one week of cicada days, we're losing touch / And I know it just feels inhumane to lose this much♪

Jeez, finding a song for him was tough, but i guess i did my best.

Apparently, "Cicada days" is about "that even the most painful losses can teach us something, as long as we persevere" according to some website. And i think it's pretty accurate.

I guess this song works well with all that Lilith death and Celestial Realm situation. Bro literally lost everything but still standing.

MAMMON

♪Please, policeman, no heel-to-toe / Oh please, let me go / Please, policeman, is it a test? / I won't know 'til I'm under arrest / Am I being detained / Am I under arrest? (Yes, you are!) / Read me my rights, please (No!) / I want my phone call!♪

So this song is about "dealing with life difficulties and feeling like you are trapped in a cage by circumstances". I thought that it, again, works well with Celestia drama and with fact that Lucifer was the one who chose everything for them. That would also work for Levi, but pppffft.

Also his brothers are often bullying him, so "feeling like in cage" might suit this well. No one takes him seriously and think that he is stupid, sad.

And oooobviosly Mammon might be in cage because he stole something expensive and hanging out in jail!)

other ones under the cut~

LEVIATHAN

♪One night one flung light through this place / So I run for cover, over, under, left the rind out on the plate / Little heart racing and praying, "Something, keep me safe" / I think it saw my face / Okay, one hungry day / Is nothing come what may♪

Okay, i have absolutely no idea what this thing is about, but according to some people this thing is about "Wanting to have someone near you and struggling with loneliness, but then accepting everything". Which gives some Levi vibes, since he is all "lonely worthless otaku".

But it's actually about a mouse, that's trying hard to live, wishes for cheese, hated just because of it's existence and naively hope that it will get to the cheese moon. It wanted to be friends with everyone, but eventually it gets trapped and killed. That's so hella sad and I've almost cried when i saw the clip, but, also it works well with Levi i guess. Poor dude wanted to be helpful for everyone, but everyone just left him(

All those hunger and cheese themes making me think of Beel, but no, it's not his song for sure.

SATAN

♪...Is there room for me in your cage?/.../ Animals are people too, but these people are animals/.../You might seem behind bars, but friend, this cage is inside out / It's awful out here, Socrates♪

AND

♪I wanna make my murder look like a suicide / But they'll all know, they'll all know / They'll all know that the body's mine / I wanna go anonymous to identify / But they'll all know, they'll all know♪

Ok so "Willard!" is pretty obvious. The singer loves animals a lot more than humans and wishes to be animal too. And Satan is definitely that one type of people who prefer Cats over people.

And "Cotard's Solution" is kinda more complicated. Its about struggling with your identity. Actually Will Wood's "Self-Ish" album has a few other songs like that, but i felt like this one was the one. Satan's identity struggle is a big part of his character as we all know. Since he is a part of Lucifer and all that stuff. And Satan's love for knowledge is also working well, since singer is trying to understand what life is and what it even means.

I was thinking about "Hand me my shovel im going in" or "2012", but i thought this one is better.

ASMODEUS

♪Where do you get off being so God damn beautiful? / Oh lord. Don't ask me what I mean /.../ I'll never know. I'll never know. I'll never know. I'll never know what it's like / What it's like to love you♪

In this song singer talks about extremely pretty woman, who he is in love with. He is ready to sacrifice himself for her, even if he knows that it's dangerous.

Part from UNOFFICIAL meaning interpretation that i saw:

"Overall, "White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?)" seems to be a portrayal of the intense emotions and confusion that can come with infatuation, particularly when it is unreciprocated. The woman in the song represents a sort of unattainable ideal, something that the narrator desires but cannot fully understand or possess."

I think this song works reaaaally good with Asmo. We all know how much Asmo wants to be the prettiest so everyone would love him. He is taking dietes to keep his form, uses a lot of skincare routine and overall trying to be perfect. Lets take that the "woman" is the ideal that Asmo is trying to reach, and he is ready to go on any sacrifices to be perfect the way how he wants it. So everyone will love him!

and i really like this song.

BEELZEBUB

♪Just like my parents in due time / Imagine me, just like my parents, yeah, right / 'Cause I've made more mistakes than simple empty moments /Each one as out of character as you know I tend to be♪

AND

♪Of the two things we do on our knees / Watch me fold my hands just to crack my knuckles / Well, here is the church, here is the steeple / Open the doors, see all the people / Alright, that's enough, let's get you home♪

I could find something that would suit him more so... uhhh.. "Becoming the Lastnames". Its just some cute song about how singer wants to create family, live happy and accepting responsibility for one's life. And hoping for the best, and working to create a lasting legacy for his family.

I mean, Beel is family guy. I just couldn't find anything better, sorry.

And about Kitchen floor... Well, that song is more about childhood dreams and adult reality, but its also about accepting your past mistakes and trying to work harder in future, so i guess it's not that bad????

Sorry Beel fans, i couldn't find anything better(

BELPHEGOR

♪Hold my hands, we'll dance the twelve step on my grave / I'd kill the man I am for one more chance to be yours, babe / No, I ain't begging, I'm just saying, it's an option / Don't let the latest be the last nail in my coffin / If you need me, I'll be in my coffin♪

AND

♪I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night / Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see? / I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night / I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between /.../ And if dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares?♪

These two are just perfect match with Belfie!

The "Vampire reference in minor key" is about feeling dead inside and wanting for someone to save you. And we all know how dead inside own Belfie is.

And "Dr. Sunshine is dead" is about world not being black and white. And the whole Moon/Sun theme along with Dreams stuff is just perfect!

And both of them suit well with attic part! There is nothing much to say about these, they are just perfect.

I also thought about "Red moon", but i couldn't properly understand what it was about sooo...

Idk, tell if you want side characters version idk?

i enjoyed making this though~

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lnfours · 10 months

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Okay hear me out, the Fourth of July with Tom’s family at a gorgeous beach house. And his skin is all sun kissed from the summer sun and his curls are even more curly from the salty air 😩

genuinely going to go into cardiac arrest if i think abt this any longer. i NEED him.

i’m getting the summer i turned pretty vibes, a new england summer, yknow? idk, i hope u like it! <3

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toms family was never the type to skip out on a new england summer. the hollands and your family would always spend the summer in massachusetts, spending the days at the beach house nikki had convinced dom to get back when you all were kids.

now it’s become a tradition. a tradition that you’ve grown to fall in love with, wanting nothing more than to keep the tradition going.

the beach house was gorgeous, right on the beach with its own private entrance to the sand and ocean that was calling your name. you took off with the boys to the water, giggling as you raced them into the waves.

it wasn’t a lie that you and tom had always felt some kind of way towards each other, even the adults claim it’s always been obvious ever since you were both teenagers. you both have unspoken feelings about each other, waiting for the other to cave in.

you made your way into the water, tom and sam following close behind you. harry and paddy had fallen short, almost falling in the sand. you laughed as tom splashed you.

“cheater!” he laughed, “you got a head start!”

you smiled, “can’t keep up, spider-man?”

he looked good. too good. his sun kissed skin was glistening with saltwater. the salt in the air had made his curls more defined, sticking to his forehead. his sunglasses sat on his slightly crooked, freckle covered nose.

everything about him was perfect.

“oh i can keep up,” he said, “you just distracted me, that’s all.”

“sorry, i’ll try to be less distracting.”

“nothing wrong with a little distraction once in a while.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spider-man #mail time #tom holland blurb #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #blurb #berry-blueberry

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coldgoldlazarus · 10 months

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After rewatching Into the Spiderverse last week, and my third viewing of Across the Spiderverse this weekend, a bit of a crack theory has been percolating in my head. Some spoilers here, so putting this under a readmore:

I think Doc Ock has a chance of returning in Beyond The Spiderverse. A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.

Point A: Lack Of Resolution

This is pretty obvious so I won't belabor it; despite her role as a pretty significant villain in ItSV, along with Kingpin and Prowler, the mind behind the supercollider and given a pretty fantastic reveal, she also winds up getting hit by a truck during the climax and not being heard from again. The Prowler died, Kingpin got defeated and webbed up for the police, even Tombstone was seen getting arrested and shoved in a cop car, and the other henchmen like Scorpion also got pretty conclusive defeats at the hands of the 2D spideys during the fight itself.

But with Liv, there's no real confirmation of what happened afterwards; whether she got arrested, or ran off, or the impact was fatal and her body recovered, or what; no clue. (And if she did end up shoved through the Collider and landed in another dimension, she'd be subject to the same glitching, cell decay, and eventual death as the others, without the Spider-society tech to stabilize herself.) And like, that doesn't necessarily mean anything on its own, but at the very least the principle of "didn't see the body" is in play.

(Interestingly, I remember hearing somewhere that there was a deleted scene of her intentionally jumping into the collider portal while saying the "power of the [X] in the palm of my hands!" line that later went to Spot. Though idk where I heard it, so am unsure if this is actually legit. And even if it is, it was still a scene they chose to remove from the final film, so while it could mean that intent is still there, they also could have changed their minds on the idea entirely.)

On its own, I'd be willing to accept that that's probably the last we've seen of her... but as of AtSV, it actually isn't.

Point B: Aaron Haunts The Narrative

This part has no direct connection to her, but bear with me here. If you've seen it, (I hope you have) you know that AtSV ends with the reveal that Miles wasn't sent to his home timeline/universe, but a darker parallel version where his dad is dead but Uncle Aaron is not, and is working with the parallel version of Miles as the Prowler. He does say "I'm not" when our Miles refers to him that way, but the impression I got is that he's halfway-retired from the role but still acting as support for Miles G; the "guy in the chair" if you will.

I digress. Point is, it ends with a return for both Uncle Aaron and the Prowler identity, but this didn't come out of nowhere; all throughout the movie leading up to this, Aaron and/or the Prowler are brought up or indirectly hinted at on an honestly pretty frequent basis. Gwen's drumming recap at the beginning, the memorial grafitti on the rooftop, the Donald Glover cameo, the flash of him on the side of the building during Miles' breakdown sequence as he's rushing to get home, plus a few smaller mentions here and there. ("He takes after his uncle!" during the meeting with the guidance councilor, and a visual comparison with Uncle Ben during the "canon events" presentation, and I feel like there may be a couple others yet that I'm forgetting as well.)

The movie goes out of its way to remind you of him and his importance to Miles at every turn, and part of that is just inherently because he is so important to Miles. But it also feels like, from a writer-to-audience perspective, part of the purpose is also as a reminder; if anyone either saw ItSV but forgot most of it in the intervening time, or simply missed it altogether and for some reason decided to see AtSV first anyway, this makes sure they know exactly who and what he is, so the reveal at the end carries the full emotional weight it needs to. No matter what, you will have the proper context to appreciate Miles' reaction when Aaron steps through that door.

(Also, I just wanna say that I love that reaction in of itself; the hyperventilating panic at first, only to rush in for a tight hug. The mix of terror and comfort that comes with full awareness of both sides of him, and all the associated memories both good and bad, combined with this unexpected chance to see him (or at least a version of him) again. It's just a really great moment on that front.)

But anyway, I'm getting off track again, too many Prowler feels. ^^; What does this have to do with Doc Ock?

Point C: Aaron Isn't Alone In Haunting

This is admittedly both the key part of my theory and also the weakest one overall, so I will readily admit upfront that I may be reading too much into things, and Liv really did bow out for good in ItSV. That being said, here's my thought:

Even if a much lesser extent than Aaron, I couldn't help but notice a similar-seeming trend of brief reminders of her. On one hand, most of these can be fairly easily dismissed as simply maintaining continuity and connection with the first movie, as the bulk of them were in relation to The Spot's backstory as Jonathan Ohm; she was there for the flashback to the misplaced 42 Spider, and then seen again in a framed photo of him, when Gwen was inspecting the remains of his makeshift apartment lab. So while it's a neat inclusion, it doesn't necessarily mean anything more, right? Kingpin got mentioned too, during the Guggenheim fight with Vulture, but I'm pretty sure he isn't going to be making a comeback.

But there is one other instance that feels a bit more significant and out of place, and is what led to this theory in the first place. I mentioned this scene already in relation to the Uncle Aaron foreshadowing/reminders, but going back to it now, there is what I've dubbed the Falling Apart sequence. (From the score that plays during it.) Right after Gwen's talk with her father resolves, we cut back to Miles, swinging through the city in a desperate rush to get back home to his parents in time. (Unaware yet that this isn't his city, his home, his parents, because this isn't his universe.)

Tangential Gushing Over That Scene

It's sort of a dark parallel to the Leap Of Faith/What's Up Danger scene from ItSV, with previous bits of dialogue and past moments echoing in his mind again. There, it was all the inspiration pushing him to finally take the leap and truly become Spiderman; whereas here it's reminders of all the stress and uncertainty he's under as he races against time and possibly destiny itself, not to mention being plagued by doubts after Miguel revealed he possibly shouldn't have become Spiderman to begin with.

But what I especially love is the animation of this sequence, which on first watch I thought was stuff actually happening, but reads more on subsequent viewings like hallucinations during what's basically a panic attack. It's both gorgeous and stressful, with trains derailing and rerailing to chase Miles; the space between the skyscrapers growing narrower and more claustrophobic; and stuff like the 42 Spider, the Spot's arms, and Doc Ock's tentacles also appear briefly to hem him in even further until the end. He finally breaks free at the end, with Aaron's dying words to "just keep going" pushing him to make it the rest of the way 'home' unimpeded, a tiny bit of much-needed catharsis amidst all the overwhelming... everything else.

I really love this scene, in case it wasn't obvious.

Point C, Continued: Why Tentacle Happen?

But to get back on track, nearly everything about this sequence is mainly focused on ideas introduced in Across; the Spot, Miguel, Jefferson's predicted demise. The Spider is from the first movie, but still given extra context now; the first big exception is the reuse of Spider-Ham's line about how "the hardest part of this job is that you can't always save everyone" while images of him, Noir, and Peni appear on the glass building Miles is swinging past. Even that is still relevant to the current crisis, and their appearance there is further justified when they too properly show up again in Gwen's 'band' at the very end.

But then there's this:

The dialogue at this point is a line from Rio; while the appearance of the tentacles definitely further intensifies the claustrophobic crush of the city, it also feels like much more of a non-sequitor than even the 2D Spideys just a few shots earlier. Liv has had nothing to do with anything going on, (or at most, very indirect involvement like the displacing of the 42 Spider) has no dialogue called back to here; and heck, even in ItSV felt more like a rival to Peter B specifically instead of being especially relevant to Miles, compared to Prowler and Kingpin. So why call back to her here? It could indeed just be that the tentacles are good for adding to that entrapped feeling, but given how well-constructed the rest of the sequence was, and how deliberate animation as a process is in general, this would seem oddly careless to include so casually.

Conclusion

On the whole, I'll still readily admit that this is a pretty flimsy bit of 'evidence' (more just symbolism, really) to base a whole theory off of. Yet still, between that part of the Falling Apart sequence, the parallels to how Aaron and Miles G were foreshadowed, Liv's abrupt disappearance and lack of closure in the first film, and the knowledge that this is the first half of a split script, with all sorts of other setup in Across still awaiting payoff in Beyond, I do kinda at least feel like there may be something here.

(At the same time, the docket is already packed with a shitton of stuff that Beyond needs to be able to address and resolve, plus apparently some additional new stuff mentioned in interviews like another Gwen, Toei Spiderman, and Hobie's universe. So with all that going on, I'm not entirely sure they'd have the room for yet another returning character in amidst literally everything else.)

So while I'm not strictly counting on this to come to pass, at least for now, the basic idea is that Doc Ock got hit by that truck, fell through the collider portal and into another universe, (probably Earth 42, possibly elsewhere we may have yet to visit) and somehow found a way to stabilize her glitching to survive during the intervening time, set to make a dramatic return appearance during Beyond.

As to what role she may play, I'm not sure. I could see her making some sort of temporary truce with one of the main Spider-people for a common goal, without giving up on her evil mad science in the long run. Possibly with Miguel's group against the Spot, in exchange for freedom to keep experimenting with the Multiverse instead of getting sent back home, though I also don't think he would be willing to make that bargain unless things are truly desparate and he's fully lost the support of the rest of the Spider Society. So it could also be with Gwen or Miles, against both the Spot and Miguel; the former's more unpredictable tampering and newly eldritch nature getting in the way of her research, while the latter would of course want to put an end to her experiements and send her back home in his efforts to restore order, giving her reason to ally against.

On the other hand, her remaining entirely villainous and antagonistic would also make a lot of sense, if not moreso. If she landed in Earth 42, she could wind up as the big obstacle of the detour instead of Miles G, allowing the latter a more nuanced and dynamic role. Alternately, I could possibly see her further experimentation being connected in some way to the destruction of the universe Miguel replaced himself in, unknowingly sending him on his canon-hardliner spiral, which would certainly give her a lot more relevance to the current conflict.

But ultimately, all of that depends on whether she really would show up again, which as neat as it would be, definitely does feel like a bit of a long shot at the moment. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

#not a reblog #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse spoilers #beyond the spiderverse #beyond the spider verse #doc ock #olivia octavius #getting sidetracked by gushing over animation #theory #crack theory #spiderverse theory

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