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nerdbrazil · 3 days
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moonydustx · 1 year
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So you mean the whole of Marvel's Phase 4 was about grief and what's the worst (or best) loss can bring us? I still can't believe I realized this just now rewatching Thor.
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alexthecat666 · 1 year
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lalixlizzie · 6 months
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Tony: How many times have i told you NOT to list me as your emergency contact, Parker!?
Peter: *stuck on a roof* YOU'RE NOT! It's Thor. . . who is also stuck up here.
Thor: *excitedly waves*
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seven7arts · 2 months
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The evolution of the Scarlet Witch’s crown ❤️‍🔥
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blackthornish · 2 years
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a whole phase dealing with the mourning of the characters of the post-endgame mcu and like it or not, our mourning. sincerely? very beautiful if you stop to think about it.
like wanda with vision and her kids.
clint and yelena with natasha.
sam and bucky with steve.
peter and happy with tony. and then peter with everyone else.
we can even consider the losses the eternals face, as well as shang-chi and his family.
losses on top of losses.
AND END IT WITH WAKANDA FOREVER... really something. cuz we really lost chadwick. 💔
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maruvengadora · 5 months
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Natasha Romanoff - Avengers: Endgame (2019) dir. Anthony Russo & Joe Russo
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isroji · 1 year
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Different ideas | Attuma
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Attuma x reader
﹃﹄
Summary: Attuma and you get involved in an argument over your opposite ideas.
Warnings: Angst, Wakanda Forever spoilers.
A/N: Hey! This is my first time posting some of my writing here in Tumblr :) I never thought I'd do it, but this king here deserves content. I apologize for my English, it's not my first language and I know there be some things written wrong. I still hope you can enjoy it c: Btw, sorry for the gif's bad quality, it was the only that I could found.
thanks for reading!
﹃﹄
You were never Namor's biggest fan. You understood perfectly the reasons of the king of Talokan and above all, you understood his way of thinking, because you shared it. You also believed faithfully in protecting Talokan above all things, you also thought that the city and its people were the most important thing... But you could not, under any circumstances, support Namor's actions.
Declare war on the surface? If history had taught you anything, it was that in wars everyone dies. The good ones, the bad ones and the innocents. It was neither ethical or moral to go and start a war on beings who did not even know of your existence. You refused to put innocent people at risk on the surface lands and you refused even more to put the people of Talokan, your people, at risk. To your family, to your friends, to Attuma...
Oh, Attuma.
If there was one reason for you to remain in Namor's ranks, it was Attuma. That cold-hearted general you'd put your hands on fire for without even thinking about it. You joined Talokan's army in search of the ideals you grew up with, but your only current motive was him; the one who could not see beyond the orders of a blind leader and nonexistent dangers.
The one who at that precise moment was looking at you with great annoyance in his eyes.
"How can you even think of betraying Talokan in this way?" He asked, bitterly and even with a little contempt in his raspy voice.
Your stability faltered. You used to easily forget how incredibly imposing Attuma was. His whole body tensed as a sign of rejection and that look that would break anyone. If you were not so sure of your position, you would have already abandoned the stance and given up.
"It's not a betrayal to Talokan," you managed to find your voice and, surprisingly, make it heard. "You know me, you've known me since I was your student and you know I would never do anything like that. My life is Talokan and that's precisely why I tell you that everything Namor plans is crazy. A madness that puts this city at risk."
He looked at you with even more contempt than before. There was a surprise lodged in those dark irises, like confusion and pain. It seemed that what he heard sounded like craziness, technically desertion and betrayal. It was not a surprise, Namor could be very convincing and you saw firsthand how Attuma absorbed his ideas.
There, in the depth of the sea, between the marine stones and the immense blue, Attuma managed to look even more bigger than the sea itself. He came minimally close to you, keeping the distance that such a conversation required, transmitting perhaps more than you would have liked.
"Talokan is hidden, not to mention that it has the best warriors. You know it because you are part of those warriors." he argued, making clear his displeasure.
He seemed it like it would never understand you.
"They're smart, Attuma! They have resources, they have people who could, if they wanted to, find our city. I remind you that we are not the only ones who know how to fight, and no matter how well we do it, the people on the surface also have an army." You explained.
He still didn't understand you.
"Namor wouldn't do something that would put us in danger, he will ask Wakanda for help-" He tried to talk, but you didn't let him continue.
"Namor is blinded!" You raised your voice "And you too. You are a fool if you think that something good will come out of a war."
That seemed to offend him in the extreme.
"Watch your mouth, kid." He pointed his finger at you.
You bit your tongue. In spite of everything, he was still your general. Older than you, with more rank than you and above all, more important -in every way- than you.
Attuma turned his head, watching Talokan shine. He looked angry, very angry. It took him several seconds to look back at you, and when he did, you found in his look a painful disappointment towards you that hurt more than any possible war.
"In the end you're just that, a kid. A kid who does not understand anything and above all, does not have no loyalty."
Those words hurt. They hurt deeply. They reached the depths of your heart and stabbed you. And maybe hurt more because you knew he said it coming from his blinded posture. It hurt because before choosing to listen to you, he preferred to follow orders.
"You want to support a war, a war where people who don't have any kind of bad intentions will die. You want to endanger Talokan and yourself, but am I the one who doesn't understand anything?" You claimed, letting all absolute pain be heard in your voice.
He, for a second, seemed to empathize with you. He wasn't averse to your pain, He never had been entirely.
"We will not endanger Talokan..." For the second time in that whole conversation, Attuma was interrupted by you.
"Yes, you all will! You will! You will endanger yourself, you will expose yourself to fighting an enemy we don't know" Your voice threatened to break "It is that you do not understand Attuma... how do I make you understand that if something happens to you-
You couldn't go on, you weren't able to say the rest. You had struggled for days not to have that image in your head, but the mention of it in front of him made it so real and palpable that it was terrifying. You knew those superheroes on the surface, now you also knew the Wakandians, imagining Attuma's blood on one of those hands hurt you to levels he would never understand.
A senseless war was not worth the death of the man in front of you.
You ended up hiding, refusing to show how much hurt the mental image that you couldn't get out of your mind now.
Finally, your general understood everything. Or at least the most part. And that only made him look, in his own perspective, like a real jerk.
He may not showed it, but whatever feelings you had for him, they were reciprocated. He was not a person who could afford such personal things as love, in the end, love was a danger and a weakness. However, if something as pure as love could lead to exist in a man like him, it was certain that you were the owner and responsible. Only you.
Insecure, he approached you, the little mess of emotions you were. Hidden in the palm of your hands, squatting. Attuma came down to your height, holding your hands and revealing the face that he allowed to admire in the solitude of his thoughts.
Your eyes met, both pairs sharing similar feelings.
"Do you disapprove of Namor's ideas for fear that something will happen to me?" He asked, unable to avoid being direct.
You avoided looking at him, turning your face. That was the answer to his question.
He let go of your hands and brought his to your face, forcing you to look at him. His hands, big and rough, but strangely comfortable. His eyes, dark, but full of devotion.
That personal contact managed to penetrate deeply into you.
"My little girl... My precious little girl"
He didn't dare to say anything more, because his posture had not changed. In fact, nothing beyond the growing empathy in him had changed. Still, his last words were charged with emotions you never thought he could convey.
He kissed you, kissed you as the only way to communicate without continuing to fight over your different ideas. A kiss that started soft, reflecting his desire to take care of you, but progressed with the passion that you both desired so deeply. Years of getting to know each other, of keeping feelings that came out so easily after fighting over things that didn't even seem so relevant now that you could only think about how good his lips felt over yours.
You two would never agree. He, stubborn and loyal to Namor. You, true to your ideals and to yourself. You only had that kiss left, nothing else.
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kessadaman · 10 months
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marrziy · 5 months
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Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x Male Reader
"Vem Relaxar de Ladinho"
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• Filme: franquia Homem Aranha do MCU.
• Personagem: Peter Parker.
• Sinopse: M/n não sabe o que leva Peter a esconder o motivo de suas deixas imprevisíveis, ele simplesmente some e nunca dá justificativa. Em uma dessas escapulidas repentinas, ao retornar, Peter brota com hematomas e um humor nada amistoso. Mesmo que M/n não saiba o porquê e com Peter se recusando a abrir o bico, ele se dispõe a ser a válvula de escape do namorado, o abordando com uma proposta tentadora e um tanto arriscada.
• Sobrenome do M/n: Collins.
• Narrador: 3° pessoa - presente.
*história antiga e não revisada*
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M/n está escorado no batente da porta do banheiro, observando Peter agachado, procurando algo no armário da pia. O Parker bagunça tudo ali dentro, impaciente, só parando com a desorganização quando encontra o que tanto buscava. Peter se ergue com um pacote de algodão nas mãos. Ele ignora M/n, evitando uma possível discussão, focando totalmente em seus ferimentos.
Collins se recusa a aproximar-se, não por receio ou coisa do gênero, mas sim por ele saber que Peter, com sua paciência inexistente, iria o tratar com ignorância, e M/n sendo M/n, acabaria por mandar o Parker ir tomar naquele orifício, iniciando um bate-boca desnecessário no apartamento.
Mas ao ver o namorado abrir a caixinha de papelão, ou melhor narrando, ver o namorado destroçar a embalagem, fazendo vários gominhos brancos se espalharem pela cerâmica, M/n se vê envolto na necessidade de pelo menos questionar o porquê de tanto estresse.
— Peterzinho, fala comigo... – M/n se aproxima, segurando o queixo de Peter e virando o rosto dele para si. Há hematomas em sua face, alguns arranhões e marcas, nada muito grave, mas com certeza não ignorável. — O que aconteceu? Alguém fez isso com você? – só de imaginar que alguém possa ter ferido seu namorado, o sangue de M/n ferve.
— Não. Ninguém fez nada. – o Parker se irrita com a presença do Collins, não por algo vindo dele, mas sim porque Peter detesta ter M/n presenciando esse seu lado de emoções tão desreguladas. — Não é nada demais, só... – Peter segura o pulso de M/n, afastando sua mão de seu rosto. — Só me deixa sozinho. – o Parker diz, forçando um sorriso e amenizando o tom, tentando transparecer uma certeza que convença.
— Vamos supor que isso seja verdade... – o Collins se vira para a pia, pegando um dos vários gominhos de algodão ali jogados após Peter descontar suas frustrações em uma simples ação. M/n não está disposto a deixar de roer o osso, independente da dureza. — Se não foi nada, então fez sentido você chegar aqui soltando fogo pelas ventas, ter batido a porta da sala com tanta força que quase a fez passar reto pela tranca, ter vindo ao banheiro pisando tão fundo no chão que deve ter feito o teto dos vizinhos de baixo tremer e agora estar aqui, mentindo pra mim? – M/n borrifa álcool no algodão, entregando para Peter, o encarando nos olhos, esperando por nada, mas querendo uma justificativa.
Peter pega o algodão enquanto retribui o contato visual. Ele fecha os olhos e suspira pesadamente, tentando se acalmar e analisar as variáveis, mas fica no mesmo terreno. — Eu pedi pra você sair. – Peter exibe uma feição neutra, mas sua fala seca e voz rígida revelam que ele não está disposto a investir em um esclarecimento.
M/n aperta os dedos das mãos, transparecendo o descontentamento no ato. — Tá. – M/n engole o "vai pro caralho então, porra!" que quase atravessa seus lábios. O Collins se vira e se afasta, achando melhor deixar Peter sozinho, na esperança de que ele esfrie a cabeça por conta própria.
Parker, encarando o próprio reflexo no espelho, se martiriza por querer contar, mas ter o empecilho de sua identidade secreta o impedindo.
Ele não poderia simplesmente desabafar sobre ter topado com uma gangue de ladrões mutantes tentando roubar um banco e ter comprado a missão de os impedir, mas acabar levando um sacode e ter os deixado fugir graças aos próprios poderes, que resolveram falhar naquele momento, sem antes revelar ao namorado que ele é o Homem-Aranha!
— Seu... Arrombado! Idiota fudido! – Peter xinga a si mesmo enquanto cuida de seus ferimentos. — Que dia de merda! – ele sussurra, colocando um band-aid sobre o corte em sua bochecha.
. . .
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May Parker conhece bem o sobrinho, ela sabe que o melhor a se fazer é esperar o garoto se acalmar antes de dialogar. A mulher havia observado a situação sem se intrometer, planejando conversar com Peter no dia seguinte.
— Meninos, eu vou me deitar. – ela avisa, bagunçando o cabelo do sobrinho e lhe dando um beijo na testa antes de direcionar-se ao quarto. — Qualquer coisa é só gritar, mas por favor, evitem. Eu quero dormir. – May para no corredor e gesticula um "boa sorte" mudo para M/n, que consegue ler os lábios da mulher e captar a mensagem. Peter encara tudo aquilo sem entender, mas dá de ombros e volta a arrumar o sofá.
O plano do casal era passar a madrugada de sábado agarradinhos maratonando sitcoms na tv. Brooklyn Nine-Nine já iluminava o ambiente escuro, com o último episódio da sétima temporada pausado na Netflix.
M/n propôs que deixassem para outro dia, quando o clima não estivesse tão esmagador, mas seu namorado, se sentindo culpado pela forma como o tratou, tentou se redimir e o convenceu a ficar.
Acontece que Peter, mesmo com a boa intenção, não consegue fazer a frustração do dia passar e permanece incomodado, mas agora ele está decidido a não descontar sua raiva em mais ninguém.
Do lado de fora, a chuva fraca contribui para o aconchego. M/n usa um blusão branco e um short de pano fino. Ele quase se arrepende da escolha do pijama quando uma corrente fria passa por suas coxas, mas uma ideia atrevida ilumina sua mente. M/n pensou em uma maneira interessante de usar a pele exposta.
— Deita primeiro, fofo. – o sorriso escancarado de M/n passa despercebido por Peter. — Eu vou ser a conchinha de dentro.
Peter dá play no episódio antes de deitar no sofá. Ao se acomodar no estofado, ele abre as pernas e bate a palma da mão no espaço livre, chamando M/n para se juntar a si.
O Collins imagina seu plano se concretizando e sente os pelos do corpo eriçados. Ele vai trocar o mau humor do namorado por exaustão e pernas bambas.
Peter usa uma camiseta azul com o escudo do Capitão América estampado no centro e uma calça xadrez vermelha de tecido flanela. O traje despojado logo se revelaria um detalhe sem propósito.
M/n se joga no sofá e cobre os dois corpos com uma coberta fina. Peter fica curioso quanto a empolgação do sujeito.
Com o episódio rodando, Parker abraça a cintura de M/n, puxando ele para mais perto, conectando as costas do namorado ao seu peitoral e fechando a conchinha ao prender o quadril de M/n entre suas pernas. Peter aconchega o queixo no vão do pescoço de seu amado, assistindo ao episódio sem disposição para rir da comédia do seriado, que costuma lhe roubar gargalhadas em seus dias comuns.
Já M/n sequer dá atenção ao que passa na tv. Se Peter pudesse ver o rosto do namorado, iria encontrar uma feição travessa, similar a expressão de um vilão de desenho animado bolando um plano contra o mocinho.
O Collins leva uma mão para trás, com um pouco de dificuldade para tatear graças ao pouco espaço. Sem rodeios, ele passa pela barra da camiseta de Peter, adentrando o tecido, tocando a pele quente do namorado com seus dedos mornos, acariciando cada gominho do abdômen até chegar no peitoral firme.
— A-amor, o que você tá fazendo? – Peter questiona, mesmo tendo a resposta em evidência. — A gente não pode fazer isso aqui! – ele sussurra com sua voz mansa no ouvido de M/n. Peter sente receio, mas a adrenalina é o gás que leva seus gestos a contrariarem seus pensamentos valorosos, é o que o leva a ignorar que ele está no sofá da tia. Parker agarra os quadris do namorado com firmeza, os deixando estáticos enquanto ele esfrega sua ereção crescente na bunda de M/n. — Porra... – Peter suspira em desistência, chupando o pescoço convidativo de M/n enquanto se pressiona contra ele.
— Relaxa, você não vai me comer. – Peter morde o pescoço de Collins com força, em um ato de revolta pela resposta contraditória que recebeu. M/n não deixa barato e torce o mamilo esquerdo de Peter, acariciando o biquinho amarronzado na sequência. — Você acha que merece me foder depois de ter me tratado daquele jeito? – eles conversam sem olhar um para o outro. Atrás há um Parker de expressão sofrida, se contorcendo graças a carga repentina de exitação, e na frente, um Collins de sorriso convencido, se divertindo com a situação. — Sem contar que você é uma vadia barulhenta. Se você meter o pau em mim, com certeza vai acordar a sua tia com seus gemidos escandalosos.
— Por favor! Eu prometo ficar quietinho! – com a boca aberta, quase pondo a língua para fora, Peter suspira pesadamente. Ele abaixa a mão até a barra do short de M/n, atravessando o tecido e apertando a carne da bunda do Collins. — Só a cabecinha! Deixa?
— Você acha mesmo que eu caio nessa? – M/n ri da fala do namorado, parando de acariciar os peitos de Peter para agarrar seu pulso e tirar sua mão de dentro de seu short. — Me obedeça e talvez você goze essa noite. – a voz autoritária de M/n faz Parker estremecer. Peter sente que qualquer coisa vinda de M/n é lucro, um simples toque do rapaz o convenceria a fazer qualquer coisa nesse momento.
— É o que eu mais quero! – a voz manhosa de Parker deixa a cueca de M/n apertada.
O Collins se pega pensando em como Peter se rendeu rápido aos seus estímulos, ele gosta desse efeito que tem sobre o parceiro. M/n dedilha lentamente até o cós da calça de Peter, ansioso para ter o pau do namorado em mãos, já que recebia uma prova da exitação dele em sua bunda, com Peter esfregando o membro na traseira de seus quadris.
Peter inspira profundamente no pescoço de M/n, decorando o tom floral de seu perfume. Sentindo uma onda de calor o rodear, o acastanhado levanta a camiseta e a deixa estendida, segurando o tecido acima do peitoral, e com a mão livre ele também levanta a blusa de M/n, esfregando seu abdômen despido nas costas nuas do namorado, ambos sentindo o corpo um do outro.
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M/n puxa a calça de Peter para baixo, trazendo a cueca junto, apenas o suficiente para que o pau do namorado se liberte das peças. O Collins fantasia com a expressão de Peter, mas se contenta com isso, tendo em vista que a movimentação é limitada no sofá e que para tudo funcionar, eles precisam estar de ladinho.
Mas M/n não resiste e vira o pescoço o quanto pode, encontrando Peter de olhos fechados, seu peito subindo e descendo enquanto ele impulsiona o quadril para frente, esfregando o pênis teso na bunda coberta de M/n.
— Porra... Eu te amo! – Peter expressa, sua voz fraca e rouca chicoteando o ouvido de M/n entre arfares longos.
— Você consegue falar um palavrão e a coisa mais adorável do mundo em uma frase e ser sexy e fofo enquanto tá de pau duro. – M/n faz mágica para alcançar os lábios de Peter enquanto está de costas para ele, dando um selinho rápido no namorado. — Eu te amo mais! – M/n se sente privilegiado por ter Peter nessa posição, somente para si.
O Parker sorri com a fala do parceiro, mas logo sua expressão se contorce, com ele franzindo as sobrancelhas e abrindo a boca em um gemido pausado quando M/n agarra seu pau, fechando a palma na cabecinha e descendo até a base, espalhando seu pré-sêmen por sua extensão. — Caralho! Isso!
M/n se assusta no momento em que a voz de Peter se eleva. Ele não mentiu quando disse que Peter é escandaloso. — Peter, se controla!
— Foi mal! Eu nã-não consigo segurar! – o Parker leva uma mão até os lábios, abafando os próprios gemidos.
M/n estica o braço livre até a mesinha de centro, pegando o controle e aumentando o volume da tv. "É melhor reclamarem do som da televisão do que de gemidos." é seu raciocínio.
— Eu amo sua voz manhosa fazendo esses barulhinhos gostosos, amor. – M/n aperta o pau do namorado, o sentindo pulsar violentamente em sua mão. Peter joga a cabeça para trás, mordendo o lábio inferior com força. — Mas você não pode gemer sem precedentes. As paredes são finas e mesmo que May tenha o sono pesado, eu imagino que você não queira arriscar, não é?
Peter leva as duas mãos aos lábios após os avisos do namorado, indo a loucura com a palma macia de M/n deslizando pelo seu membro, subindo da base até a ponta em um ritmo delicioso. Seu pau está úmido com a quantidade abundante de pré-porra que escorre da cabeça avermelhada e que é espalhada pela mão veloz de M/n por todo o seu comprimento. — Puta merda! – Peter deixa escapar quando M/n se inclina para trás, encaixando a ponta do seu pênis entre a parte interna das coxas.
— Você não vai foder a minha bunda, mas pode se divertir com as minhas coxas. – M/n enuncia, sua voz rouca alugando um triplex na cabeça de Peter. O Collins levanta a barra do short até expor cem por cento das pernas.
— Pode deixar. – Peter esfrega a ponta do nariz no pescoço do namorado e morde o lóbulo de sua orelha, o fazendo suspirar e se contorcer em anseio. — Eu vou me divertir demais.
M/n solta um gemido consideravelmente alto pelo contato das mãos ágeis e selvagens de Peter em seu quadril. O Parker agarra o corpo do namorado com tanta força que M/n consegue sentir as unhas dele através de suas vestes.
O acastanhado puxa M/n de uma vez, o fazendo colidir contra sua pélvis. O pau de Peter desliza com facilidade por entre as coxas unidas do Collins, no primeiro contato já umedecendo as pernas do namorado com sua porra.
Peter começou a gemer afoito ao dar início as investidas, iniciando lento e potente, fazendo o corpo de M/n alavancar para frente a cada novo impulso, tornando cada um deles memorável ao corpo necessitado.
M/n força as pernas uma na outra ao ponto de eliminar qualquer vão entre as coxas, obrigando o pau do Parker a criar o próprio buraco que fodia, deixando a fricção mais intensa e prazerosa. — M/n... porra... – Peter se embola ao falar, não conseguindo formular uma frase completa sem que os gemidos cortem a fluidez das palavras. — Eu... Eu amo o se-seu corpo! Eu amo vo-você todinho!
O estado ofegante de Peter e sua voz manhosa poderiam fazer M/n atingir o clímax sem qualquer estímulo físico. — Eu também amo cada fibra sua...!
Com o calor cada vez mais intenso, M/n se livra do cobertor que aninhava seus corpos, e é instantâneo o arrepio que samba por cada célula do rapaz quando ele tem a visão da cabecinha molhada do pau do namorado surgindo após seu comprimento se alojar entre suas coxas.
As pernas do Collins não acomodam o pênis de Peter por completo, e pensando nisso, M/n faz uma conchinha com uma das mãos e a leva até onde a cabeça atrevida do cacete de Parker fazia presença. Peter libera gemidos cada vez mais altos e suas estocadas são desesperadas. M/n sabe que ele está próximo de gozar, e essa foi sua maneira rápida de impedir que a porra do namorado jorre onde não deva jorrar.
M/n sabe que Peter morreria de vergonha caso seu gozo manche o sofá.
O herói fode aquelas coxas com tanta voracidade que quase expulsa o parceiro do sofá com suas estocadas brutas. M/n sente os dentes de Peter afundarem em seu pescoço, e com a voz abafada, Parker avisa antes de um gemido longo e rouco escalar sua garganta. — Eu vou gozar! Eu... – As pernas de Peter fraquejam e seus movimentos se tornam desregulados e inconscientes quando jatos de porra vazam da fenda de seu pau, encharcando a palma de M/n com o líquido quente e esbranquiçado.
Peter dá mais cinco impulsos fortes, liberando todo o gozo que suas bolas pesadas acumulavam. Ele puxa o pênis e M/n faz questão de contrair as coxas quando Peter afasta o quadril, extraindo um último gemido intenso do namorado.
— Isso foi...
— Bom pra caralho? – M/n pergunta, ficando de frente para Peter e enchendo o rosto dele de beijinhos afobados, ao mesmo tempo em que levou a palma gozada discretamente para baixo, a limpando na calça de Peter sem que ele perceba. "A porra é dele mesmo." M/n pensa.
— Foi muito mais do que isso! Eu tô tão relaxado agora... Amor, foi perfeito! – A voz do Parker está mansa. Ele bota o pênis de volta para dentro da calça e se aconchega no sofá, abraçando o corpo de M/n e os cobrindo novamente com a coberta. — E a propósito, obrigado. – Peter beija os lábios do namorado antes de fechar os olhos, se rendendo ao sono após recuperar o fôlego. — Eu sei que você fez por mim, mas eu quero te recompensar... – O acastanhado sabe que o parceiro não gozou e ele planeja nivelar essa dívida no dia seguinte. — Você não quis liberar o rabo, mas amanhã o meu é todinho seu...
M/n revira os olhos, sorrindo abobado com a fala do parceiro. Ele com certeza vai sonhar com isso irá cobrar a promessa de Peter.
. . .
A chuva isolada da noite passada é substituída pelos raios quentes do sol imponente. Os feixes da luz natural invadem a sala e incomodam os olhos sensíveis de Peter. O herói acordou cedo, mas não moveu um músculo desde seu despertar. Ele encara as costas de seu amado, pensativo sobre algo.
— Amor, acorda! – O Parker chega a uma conclusão. Ele balança o corpo de M/n, torcendo para que a coragem repentina não suma com a mesma velocidade que veio.
M/n resmunga, abrindo os olhos e se deparando com a visão embaçada de um Peter sério. — Que foi? – a voz grogue do Collins questiona.
— Eu Homem-Aranha! – Peter já tinha a frase pronta, mas fala tão rápido que acaba engolindo algumas palavras.
— O quê? – M/n não entendeu nada. Ele estreita os olhos, como se isso fosse o ajudar a ouvir melhor.
— Eu sou o Homem-Aranha! – Peter repete, agora com clareza.
— É o quê? – Uma terceira voz surge. Dessa vez foi May a questionar. A mulher estava bebendo água na cozinha e acabou ouvindo a última frase do sobrinho. Agora o líquido se encontra no chão, junto aos vários cacos de vidro do copo que ela tinha em mãos.
~ . • 🍎 •. ~
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madwomansapologist · 10 months
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You gave me your heart (I gave you mine) | Wanda Maximoff
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Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Wanda Maximoff | AO3
synopsis: A prey. That's what you were, all this time. Just a sacrifice to a goddess you never even heard the name before. But who killed you should have realized that blood, that a heart, means more to a goddess than words of faith. [3K]
warnings: female!reader. Agatha Harkness/Reader stablished. dark. non-consensual intoxication. degradation. physical abuse. murder. a organ will be out of its body. smut. kinda of cnc.
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It was easy to love Agatha. Almost effortless. Any mistakes you made were forgiven. It doesn't matter if you had said or done something wrong. All you had to do for her to love you was to stay beside her.
And it was so easy to be loved by her. She always did the right thing, said the right thing, thought the right thing. It was comfortable. So comfortable that a some point you just let you defenses down.
Of course it was to easy to be true.
Sitting on her bed, you tried to open the clasp on your heels. The tiredness added to the few drinks you took were enough to make it a hard task. "You said that you bought me a gift."
"Oh, darling. I didn't said that I bought you a gift." Agatha made you lay in bed. It was more rougher than it needed to be. All you wanted was to burn those high heels and sleep, but she didn't need to pushed you into bed. "But I will give you one."
Alcohol has prevented you from thinking clearly. It was just a few beers, you'd never get drunk on that alone. There was only one logical explanation for your state: there was something beyond. Maybe it was when you needed to use the restroom, or when you got distracted talking to someone else, maybe it was the bartender: there was something else on your beers. Something that prevented you from thinking clearly, acting clearly, speaking clearly.
"I just said that", you murmured. She laughed. And even your drunk being noticed it was mean. "What will you give me?"
Agatha walked around the bed and grabbed your hands away. "I will give you purpose. I will give meaning to your life. I will give you a glorious ending." Something cold made contact with them, something that stopped you from moving your arms. When you looked up you saw a purple energy arresting you. "You are hopeful. Kind. Naive. Perfect for her."
You just thought you really needed to sleep. Purple energy? You couldn't even find the right combination of words to describe it. It just look straight out of a movie. Damn, something was really wrong with your eyes. You tried to get up, but you couldn't move. "Agatha? I'm not feeling good right now."
"Don't humiliate yourself, little thing. Don't ask or beg for mercy." Agatha smirked. "Die with some dignity, huh?"
The room was lit by violet lights. Twisting around, you saw on each of the walls strange drawings glowed. Reason began to come back into your being, and you understood what it was: runes.
"Agatha." You were uncertain if you imagination was that fertile. "Let me go." She took a bunch of keys from her pocket and opened a drawer in her bedside table. From there, Agatha hold a rectangular leather case. It was pretty, and had lilac runes running the length of it. When she opened the clasp all the runes were gone, and you could see the brightness of the dagger inside the case. "I've said let me go!"
Agatha put the case down before raising her arm and slapping you across the face.
"You ungrateful bitch." She grabbed your hair, pulling hard as she slapped you again. "You should be honored that your pathetic filthy existence will be of any use. I was going to make this painless for you. But now? Ah, now you will suffer."
She sat on your waist. With your arms tied as well as your legs, the only thing you could do in an attempt to defend yourself was to twist your body and scream. But none of that stopped Agatha from taking the dagger from the box. None of that stopped her from studying the dagger's edge as if it were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And none of that stopped her from plunging the knife into your chest.
And you felt it all.
Every inch of your skin being torn apart. Your muscles ripping against the dagger. You heard she muttering words in an ancient language, but the pain was the only thing that mattered. It burned, it stung, it was as if hot coals had been thrown over your skin. And then came the emptiness. A real void. It was as if a hungry vortex had opened inside your body. Something was missing.
Agatha had your heart in her hands.
"This is my offering to you, Destroyer of Worlds." Agatha chanted. "A pure heart, still beating in my hands and forever beating in yours, in exchange for immortality. Death, I offer you a taste of life."
A scarlet portal appeared in the center of the room. It was as if a hole had been opened there, a error in the universe, and out of it came the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
Her auburn hair was formed into a sort of burgundy crown. Wide earrings swayed with each step, mingling with the wavy strands of hair that fell over her shoulders. A tight fabric with strong lines covered her body, it was the only piece of clothing she wore.
She didn't seem from this world. She seemed to come from somewhere better. From somewhere that deserves her presence.
"You have a gift for me." She was looking into your eyes. In a mess of tears and whimpers of pain, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your breath was short, and it burned all over your body.
"A bargain," clarified Agatha. She kneeled in front of the goddess. "I gave you her heart, Scarlet."
Scarlet tilt her head to the side. Her gaze dropped from your face to your body ripped in half. All the blood seeping, the ripped muscles, the taut skin. She took it all in before speaking again.
"You took her heart out of her chest?"
"She will finally be important, my goddess." Agatha realy thought she was being smart. "Nothing she ever did during life was meaningful, but her death will be."
"Don't you dare be nothing but respectful and gentle to my sacrifice." Scarlet's voice interrupted her. Agatha apologized. It wasn't enough. "You think your words are more worthy of me than her blood?"
"That's why I offered her to you, my goddess." Agatha was quickly to "Her death was part of your sacrifice. I killed her to show you how much I adore you."
"But she isn't dead."
Agatha looked at you, surprise to see her goddess was right. "I don't... I must have done something wrong. The runes were..."
"There is nothing wrong with my runes." Scarlet hold her by the chin. Now Agatha was the one squirming. You would laugh if you weren't a open wound. "These are the runes to offer me a sacrifice." Scarlet lifted her off the ground. "How can this be a sacrifice for you? Did you lose something? Are you the one in pain? Did you suffered for me?"
"I-I loved her." Agatha yelled, gasping for air. "I do. I really do. And I knew that losing her was the worst thing I could ever..."
Scarlet dropped her on the floor. "I was invoked. I was gifted with blood. With life. But you aren't the one bleeding, are you?"
She took your heart from Agatha's hand. Slowly, the goddess walked towards you. Her warm fingers carressed your cheeks, cleaning the traces of tears. "I can feel your pain." It was so comfortable. You could sleep against her skin. "I remember feeling completely alone. Empty."
"You," surprised with your own voice, you stopped. "You felt that?"
"A long time ago," Scarlet's fingertips touched lightly your lips. She let her hand rest against your skin. "Does it hurt?" Unable to use your words, you nodded. She smiled. It was such a divine view. "You lost something today. Something no other human can replace. And you did it for me, my generous girl. You gave me the best of gifts."
Scarlet opened the maroon fabric covering her body. She let the clothing fall, revealing her body to you. She lead her fingertips to her own chest, you saw them dissapearing inside her body. When they come back, they were holding a beating black heart.
"You gave me your heart." She put your red organ into her chest. Bent over your body, she began to fit her own heart into you. It stopped hurting. Burning. Aching. You felt complete. At peace. "And I gave you mine."
"I made this!" Agatha screamed. You almot forgot she existed. "I did this for you! It should be mine!"
Stroking your hair, she turned to the woman lying on the floor. Scarlet lift you from the bed, holding your body as it didn't weight anything. Walking towards the portal, she smiled at Agatha. "This will hurt."
That was the last time you saw Agatha Harkness.
At some point you must have closed your eyes. When you opened them, you where in a completely different place. Facing a two floor house that was the definition of the american dream, Scarlet walked up the steps carrying you in her arms.
And everything was black and white.
You tried to move away, but she hold you still against her. Then you saw it. You both were wearing wedding dresses. Her was flat and smooth, and she also had a pearl necklace. And yours were exactly like you always dreamed. Every detail, every tissue, every jewel. Perfect, if it wasn't for the absense of color.
"Everything will be just fine", she assured you. The front doors opened without a touch. "No one will ever hurt you again."
"I want to go home." You felt weak again, a sharp pain pressing against your temples. Your body softened against hers. You noticed a weight in your hand. It was a wedding ring with the biggest diamond you've ever seen. Not that you've seen many.
"This is your home," Scarlet's voice was soft. "Our home."
"No, this isn't," she climbled the central upstairs. "Please, let me go. I'm... I'm scared. Just let me go, please."
"I know you are scared. I can feel it. And I understand why." Another door opened. You saw a big bedroom. Again, everything was black and white. "I will take care of you. I will fix what that monster broke. Clean up what she's soiled, sew up what she's torn, fondle what she's beaten. You will never suffer again. I would never allow."
You felt dizzy. When she laid you down on the bed, you couldn't react. It was like you was still drunk. Drunk on her. Scarlet thought this would calm you down for a little bit. "You wouldn't?"
"Never."
"Scarlet, why this is happening to me? Where are we?"
"We are at home." By her tone, you understood that you shouldn't question it again. "And it's Wanda. You can call me Wanda."
Wanda left the room, opening a door at the end of the hall. You tried to get up, but your body wouldn't obey you. "Rest," Wanda said. Wanda ordered. "I'll be right back to take care of you."
Within seconds you heard the sound of running water. Suddenly a black stain appeared on your wedding dress. It wasn't there before, and it smelled like blood.
"Let's clean you up!" The Wanda that entered the room wasn't the one that left it. Her hair was short and artificially curly. Her dress was rounded, something you would see on a 50's movie. Her necklace has daisy pendants. Nothing could be prettier, nothing could be scarier.
Wanda decided to let you be sober. Everything will be way more romantic if you are able to stand up by yourself. Not that she mind carrying you. But she senses you will prefer to have more autonomy.
"I can do this alone" you finally was able to sit.
"You can," Wanda stepped closer. She touched your perfectly brushed hair, and you flinched. Her smile died for a moment, but came back full force. "But you don't have to. I'll take care of you, pookie. I promised."
Before you could counter her, she carried you in her arms again. Wanda took you to the bathroom, a bath with warm water was ready, and left you standing in front of the mirror. You got closer to it, your body bending over the sink, because you... You were perfect. Your hair, your makeup, your nails. The prettiest you ever been. Perfect, if not for the blood stain growing on the torso of your dress.
Wanda got to work on the knots that held your dress together. You tried to pull away, but she was right behind you. Her fingers loosened the knots, little by little the dress became looser. In the mirror, you saw her with a sincere smile. Not wide, but there. She seemed to like it. Like to be close to you, touching you so casually. If it weren't for your shaking body and the huge bloodstain, anyone would think that you two had just come back from a ceremony. "Don't worry about the dress. I can get you another one just like that. I can get you anything really, pookie. Any clothes, jewelry, car, house, book. Anything. If you want another moon in the sky, just let me know. I'll do anything for you."
You held the front of the dress, fearing it would fall off and expose you. You decided to change your approach. "Why? You don't have to do this. You don't have to waste your time with me."
"You're so kind. To think that taking care of you would be a waste of my time... You're all I ever dreamed of. And now you're mine."
Wanda stopped for a moment. Then she rested her chin on your shoulder, bending down so your heads were touching. You exchanged glances in the mirror. And so, snugged against you, Wanda closed her eyes. "Do you know what happened?" You denied.
"Those runes never been used before. The runes of immortality." She gave you time to understand her words. "Agatha stole the power of too many witches to be able to use them. But power isn't enough to deserve that gift. Only someone brave enough to cut their own chest open and give me their heart... Oh, that would be."
"But I didn't sacrifice myself." You whispered. "I was killed. I think so."
"I know that, pookie. I swear, I made that witch suffered." Wanda carressed your shoulders. You didn't react, and that made her happy. "You didn't ask for that, but you suffered. And you did it for me. You died for me. I won't let you go. I love you."
You only notice that she was done with the nods when your dress fell to the floor. You tried to cover yourself, but she held your hands. You could felt she glaring at you through the mirror.
"Please, I don't..."
"Don't be shy," Wanda whispered. She let go of your hands, sliding her fingertips down your arms. "You have all of me, I have all of you."
Her clothes disappear as she walks to the bath. Wanda touched the water with her fingertips. "Perfect." She put her feet in the water, leaning on the tile, and sat down in the tub. She smiled at you. "Waiting for an invitation?"
You didn't have a choice. Slowly, you convinced your body to obey your mind. You sit on the tub, but on the oposite side and with your back turned to her so she couldn't see you. You didn't want to be seen. Or to touched. You just wanted to wake up and find out it was just a really weird nightmare.
"Come here." You didn't answer her, so she pulled you on her lap. Wanda was strong. Stronger than you. "You're such a tease!"
"Stop that! I don't want you to touch me!"
"Oh, pookie. Agatha must have been such a egoistic lover." Her fingers touched your tights, suggesting something more. "I will make you feel so good."
Wanda brushed your hair off your shoulders, letting your delicate skin show. She slid her nose along your skin, up to your neck. Wanda licked your skin, bit lightly, kissed. She treated you like you were made of paper, like any rough touch could break you in half.
Her hands went up to your breasts. You tried to stop her, but soon she was holding and caressing them. She teased your nipples, her middle finger twitching them. "You're mine," Wanda was saying. "Only mine. All mine."
"Please... I don't..."
"You smell so good. Your skin is so soft. Your body... Ah, pookie, it feels like you were made for me. Maybe Life decided to give me a gift." Slowly, her hands moved back down to your thighs. "I want to fuck you in my temple. Make everyone watch how gods fuck. I want to show how perfect you are, how mine you are. You're mine. All mine."
"Wanda," you cried. "Please, I don't... Ah... Uh-um, Wanda, I can't..."
"You're my princess. My girl. My bride. My everything. Mine, mine, mine."
She opened your legs. Without you being able to help it, she slid her fingers across your lips. She touched your pussy, rubbing it carefully, while her other hand pinched your nipple. Wanda touched your clit, a shock was sent through your body. You squirmed in her lap.
"Let me feel you," Wanda whispered against your ear. But she wasn't demanding. She was begging. "I'll give you anything you want. I'll do anything you want. Be anything you want. You just have to need me."
"I," your voice cracked as a moan escaped your throat. Wanda sped up the movement, her fingers so blunt against your sex. Being with Agatha was easy. Loving her was easy, but only because she was using you. But Wanda... She will truly love you, and she's asking for something so simple. "I need you."
Without wasting a second, Wanda penetrated you. The two long fingers opened you slowly, until you got used to it. Moaning her name, you let her kiss you. Clunging into Wanda's arm, unable to do anything but kiss her back, she started to really fuck you.
"So wet, so tight." Wanda bit your ear. "Mine. All mine."
"Yours," you replied. "All yours."
Wanda didn't stop until she saw you shaking. Your walls squeezed her fingers, it was so warm inside you. She didn't stop fucking you, even when you stopped breathing from the pleasure. She continued until you came again on her fingers. "Wanda! Oh, fuck, Wanda. It's... sensitive."
Wanda stroked your face. "You are mine. Forever mine."
"Forever," you muttered. You weren't even able to imagine eternity next to her. "Forever?
"Forever."
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink
if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
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nerdbrazil · 3 days
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u2frommars · 3 months
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Kathryn Hahn como Agatha harkness
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tomhardymyking · 4 days
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💥 BOMB RUMOURS 💥
According to reliable insider DanielRPK, 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆 has plans for the characters to appear in other projects after 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 🥹💖 Additionally, 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲, president of 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘀, is open to the idea of ​​them appearing in 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒔 ❤️‍🔥 It would be logical, since it will be about the multiverse and maybe it'll cause the universes to merge and the two of them will stay in the 𝑴𝑪𝑼 (that's why the title of 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆, it would be like the last film in 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆's universe) 😮
In previous news it was said that 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲 is interested in having 𝗧𝗼𝗺 in the 𝑴𝑪𝑼 and that he likes what he is doing with 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺 & 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 😏
We must also remember the other rumour that said that 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲 wants a villain from 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆's universe for the 𝑴𝑪𝑼 👀
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💥 RUMORES BOMBA 💥
Según el informante fiable DanielRPK, 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆 tiene planes para que los personajes aparezcan en otros proyectos después de 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑬𝒍 𝑼𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝑩𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆 🥹💖 Además, 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲, presidente de 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘀, está abierto a la idea de que aparezcan en 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒔 ❤️‍🔥 Sería lo lógico, ya que tratará del multiverso y tal vez hará que los universos se fusionen y ellos dos se quedarán en el 𝑼𝑪𝑴 (por eso el título de 𝑬𝒍 𝑼𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝑩𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆, sería como la última película en el universo de 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆) 😮
En anteriores noticias se decía que 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲 está interesado en tener a 𝗧𝗼𝗺 en el 𝑼𝑪𝑴 y que le gusta lo que está haciendo con 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺 & 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 😏
También hay que recordar el otro rumor que decía que 𝗞𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗲 quiere un villano del universo de 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆 para el 𝑼𝑪𝑴 👀
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lalixlizzie · 6 months
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Natasha: you are the definition of an idiot
Thor: really? When did they change it?
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seven7arts · 4 months
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The best end of a character in the phase 5 of the MCU.
Goodbye Loki. I miss you a lot 💚
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