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#but but but he sort of has room for love in his heart in a way hamilton doesnt. maybe he did with laurens because its said that he
pomefioredove · 2 days
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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mattsfuturegf · 3 days
Text
Eat It From The Back | M.Sturniolo
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𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊!𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 matt has a proposition for you and you cannot turn it down when matt gives you the puppy eyes.
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 matt eats it from the back, oral (f! receiving), dom!reader, sub!matt, matt calls reader ‘mommy’ one time, praise kink, a little bit of plot but rest is pure smut (i think that’s it but let me know if i missed anythin’)
𝐀/𝐍 based off of this twt link >>> https://x.com/6ixnsfw/status/1781861729472847953?s=46
https://x.com/6ixnsfw/status/1781861729472847953?s=46
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“I have a proposition for you,” Your boyfriend snapped you out of your thoughts as you glance up from your phone after scrolling through TikTok and placing your phone down to see Matt fumbling with his fingers at the edge of his bed.
You smile at him and crawl towards him on his bed and place your chin on his shoulder looking at him with doe eyes, making him melt slightly before he snapped out of his memory and grabbed your waist pulling you into his lap circling his arms around your waist caging you in place.
“What’s up, baby?” You place your fingers underneath his chin to lock your eyes together and he looked up at you with doe eyes which made your heart swell as you placed a kiss onto his plump lips and pushed his hair back. “Could we y’know, try something?” Matt asked sort of shyly and you smirked, not knowing where he was going with this but nodded anyway.
Matt was nervous, you could see it. You knew your boyfriend like it was the back of your hand and he was super nervous, you didn’t know what proposition he had for you was but you were open to it whatever it was.
“Ireallywanttoeatyoufromtheback,” Matt said really fast and you almost had to strain to hear him but you heard him completely and smirked slightly at Matt’s rushed voice, his face was tinted pink and hid his face in your chest before you had time to answer.
You picked up his head from your chest and he looked up at you with his eyes blown wide and you smirked leaning down to place a long kiss onto his lips as he sighed into the kiss bringing you impossibly closer than you already were before you pulled away and pushed him onto his bed, his hands on your waist as you straddled him.
“You wanna eat my pussy from the back, sweet boy?” Your dominant side had came out, Matt knew that whenever he had a new proposition he would be putty under your hands in no time. Matt whined as he dug his fingers into your sides which probably made bruises but you didn’t care, as you patted his chest for him to take his shirt off.
Matt got the hint and grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, his chest exposed and his tattoos running down his arm which made you wetter than ever. You had always loved Matt’s tattoos and he was always whiny whenever you had kissed his tattoos, and you loved the way Matt whined.
“Okay, take all of this off” You demanded, pointing to his clothes before crawling off of him and standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed.
Matt wasn’t going to lie, he often liked when your dominant side came out and when you manhandled and or demanded him like this, it made him want you even more.
He was on his feet in a second, discarding his jeans and boxers at the same time before getting back onto his bed and leaning against the headboard watching with wide eyes as you stripped off his long t-shirt that hung against your waist tightly. His mouth nearly watered at the fact that you had no bra on as your underwear was stripped off and flung across his room.
You got onto the bed and crawled towards him, his eyes trained on yours as you gripped his jaw and smashed your lips onto his as he sighed into the kiss small smirk turning into a smile as you pulled away.
''What do you say, sweetheart?'' You reprimanded and he whines slightly, his lips turning into a pout.
Matt looks up at you with puppy eyes, ''Please let me eat your pussy from the back, mommy'' your eyes darkened at the pet name and you smirked slightly, before turning around and settling yourself onto his chest.
His breath hitched before he circled his arms around your waist and started literally devouring you, you cried out just as his tongue came in contact with your clit straight away. ''God, good boy Matty'' you whined out before he shook his head, tongue slipping in and out of your hole making your legs shake.
You knew Matt was amazing in bed, hell, you had been dating for over two years and he still amazed you every time. Every time you or him had come up with a proposition, you both were down for it, it showed how healthy your relationship had been for the past two years. You love Matt, you always have and he feels the same about you-
Snapping out of your thoughts, a pornagraphic moan left your lips as Matt hit your g-spot with his fingers that you didn't know he had sneakily slipped into your hole. Matt smirked as he felt your felt your hole contract around his fingers and tongue. ''Fuck-- m' gonna cum, Matt'' and he sped up his fingers scissoring inside of you and tongue flicking over your clit as your legs shook.
''Fuck fuck, Matty m' gonna cum, sweet boy'' You felt Matt hum against you as you reached your climax, feeling your ears ring as you nearly pass out as he kept going over your clit with his tongue lapping all of the cum that dripped out of you, overstimulating you before you felt him pull away and rub his hands over the curve of your ass kneading it softly.
“Did that feel okay,” Matt asked softly as you turned around slowly to sit on his lap, his dick grazing your clit as you hissed at the overstimulation.
“You did not just ask that question, you know damn well how good that was Matt” you told him as you grasped his jaw and pulled him in for a long kiss as he sighed and smiled contently into the kiss.
You two were definitely doing that again.
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𝐀/𝐍 i hope you enjoyed this! this is my first smut i’ve written so i hope it lived up to expectations, kisses for all for u <3
156 notes · View notes
misc-obeyme · 1 day
Note
cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)
Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!
I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.
So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!
My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!
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the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit
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Lucifer
When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.
He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.
No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.
If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.
Mammon
Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.
You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.
Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.
If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!
Leviathan
Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.
He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.
Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.
If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.
Satan
He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.
Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.
Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.
If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.
Asmodeus
Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.
Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.
Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?
If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.
Beelzebub
It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.
Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.
Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.
If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.
Belphegor
Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.
You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.
It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.
If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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redr0sewrites · 1 day
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Loki x reader General Hcs
this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏
🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
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sfw:
loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him
loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you
at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot
when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little
everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer
very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7
loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate
i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip
HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines
loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!
loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you
loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((
loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you
nsfw
look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods
when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences
when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands
PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).
i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him
guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.
marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.
another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head
loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex
we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.
loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless
aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.
when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you
RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!
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zarvasace · 3 days
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The last, and probably my current favorites of the bunch: Prince and Mirage, dark Warriors and dark Legend! I keep trying to put the images side-by-side so they don't take up as much room but Tumblr HATES that. Sorry.
My document with all these boys' descriptions on it is over 7k words. Holy heck. Hope you like them. XD Masterpost
More information and art beneath the cut yayyy
Prince
Prince is dark Warriors. 
Cia gave Warriors a lot of unwanted attention, which he spurned. Prince, on the other hand, wouldn't just accept the attention, but would have welcomed it. He wasn't entirely autonomous when he was summoned, but he remembers everything. He knows that he never wants to not be in control of himself ever again.
Instead of championing freedom, however, Prince makes a point of controlling others. If he controls them, they can't control him. Shackle is similar, but they have different methods. While Shackle prefers physical subjugation to be sure they're in his power, Prince uses manipulation. He pretends to be your friend, all the while gaining your trust. His job is made all the easier by his own special talent: Charm. 
Prince’s Charm is a supernatural ability to influence people. Where Madness takes over bodies, Prince sways the mind. His Charm is something he can turn on and off at will, at different intensities. It doesn't work well on any being with too much light, but it does work on criminals or people with guilt and secrets. The other Darks are susceptible to it, though after… an incident… Prince doesn't do it to them. Usually. 
It works like this: Prince identifies his target, which can be an individual or an entire crowd. He turns his Charm on intentionally, and depending on how hard he pushes, his target’s attention is drawn to his face. Because he does not look human, he then has to quickly begin talking, to pour even more Charm on. If he does it right (it does require skill and charisma), the target forgets his appearance is anything out of the ordinary. He needs a minute or two of conversation and rakish smiles to dig his claws deep enough that they don't remember anything unusual once they stop looking right at him. Prince uses his Charm to get information, favors, and generally spread his anti-Link agenda. The riskier or weirder his request is, the more Charm he has to layer on, and some people just straight up won't do some things. The Charm wears off after a while, depending on the target and how long they were exposed to it, which takes anywhere from a few minutes to a few weeks, averaging out at a day or two. 
Prince has to choose his targets wisely, which can be difficult to do because he does not look human and does not have any kind of magical disguise. That last point is a sore spot. He doesn't want a disguise, he just wants people to stop looking at him like he's going to burn their house down, thank you very much. He only has their best interests at heart. Prince is bitter and extremely envious about Warriors winning hearts so easily thanks to his good looks and natural charisma, so Prince does his best to do the same without them. His Charm is better anyway. 
…It's a good thing he hasn't actually been let loose on a population yet. 
(Warriors is a bit of a flirt, but not too badly. Prince makes a game out of trying to make people fall in romantic love with him as fast as he can. (Author’s note: I'm not touching sex. That is not the sort of story I want to tell here.))
Prince doesn't need food, and he doesn't need to breathe, but he does need to use his Charm. Because he magically learns a bit of information about his targets when he's focused on them, his theory is that he leeches from their emotions, or their identities, or something of that sort. He hasn't shared the theory with anyone, but the Dark Chain does know that Prince needs to use his Charm or he starts to get very, very hangry. It's a physical need for him. Of course, pushing too hard or trying to Charm too many people at once gives him migraines. 
Prince considers himself a leader, and it rankles him a bit that Depth is the one in charge. He contents himself with sitting back and letting Depth do all the hard things, though he has Charmed Depth several times into going along with what Prince wants to do. Prince sees Shackle as a sort of protege in the ways of manipulation, and occasionally provides pointers about how to subtly get under people’s skin. Prince and Madness end up working together a lot, since Prince can Charm Madness’s thralls into forgetting they ever lost time, or he can make up memories for them. Sometimes the two of them get migraines at the same time, which spells out lots of “fun” for everyone else. He fights a lot with Mirage and is always trying to catch Agony off-guard to give him a good scrubbing. He's the only reason that Nothing or Dire get baths, too. 
Prince is arrogant and ambitious, yes. He's proud of his appearance and does his best to stay clean and orderly—he doesn't mind the memories of military training that he gets from Warriors, since those routines help him to be efficient. He wears a copy of Warriors’s outfit, but fancier, with a fluffy shirt and a corset on top, and his tunic is purple because (1) it's opposite green on some color wheels and (2) it's the color of royalty. His silvery hair is a little longer than Warriors’s is, and he wears a luxurious red cape.
Sometimes he puts a little too much flair into his moves, but he's proficient with as many weapons as Warriors is, if less practiced. He talks a lot, boasts a lot, and casually jabs where it hurts. He holds a lot of jealousy and hate in his heart, and if he gets a little drunk, he'll go on and on about how much he dislikes Warriors, specifically. 
Prince’s ultimate ambition is to rule his Hyrule as undisputed, beloved emperor. He wants to do that by winning the hearts of every soldier, every servant, every noble. He wants to steal Warriors’s relationships right out from under him without him noticing. Prince knows that he can't rely on his temporary Charm to do that, though, so his plan is to ally with the organizations of traitors throughout Hyrule and add his persuasive charm and Charm to their efforts, eventually rising to become their leader. 
Prince’s best dreams involve him standing over a defeated Warriors on the balcony of the castle, a crown on his head and a queen on his arm (or king. He just thinks stealing Artemis or Impa would make it all the sweeter), with crowds below cheering for him. He has plans to keep the aging Warriors as an honored “guest” in the castle for as long as he lives, doomed to watch his beloved, darkened kingdom flourish under Prince’s ruby eyes. Someday, Prince will change his name to Link, stealing that from Warriors, too. 
Prince Link. Wait, no. King Link. No, even better… Emperor Link. 
Actually, he doesn't like the sound of Emperor. He’ll workshop that title.  
Mirage
Mirage is dark Legend, patterned after the Nightmares that Legend fought on Koholint. He knows Legend will know that immediately. 
Mirage is truly shape-fluid. His form is extremely malleable, though he can't keep up looking perfectly like a human for more than half an hour or so—he starts to melt and revert back to his most comfortable state, which is a close copy of Legend, his matter constantly shifting and dripping and melting. (Most comfortable state, not his true form. Does he have a true form? He doesn't know what it is if he does.) He is best at mimicking nonspecific human forms and small reptiles. He pretended to be a bush once, but wasn't very convincing. 
Mirage’s gooey flesh doesn't have many pain or touch receptors, and he doesn't need any kind of structure beneath the goo to stand up. He's very good at energy dispersion, so punching him means that you're either punching a brick wall or that your fist is getting absorbed. His goo is as warm as flesh and very slightly acidic, so touching him for too long can burn. He doesn't need to breathe, but he does digest organic material or minerals to build on his mass. He's weak against energy-type attacks, like acid or fire or ice, but it doesn't hurt him in the traditional sense and he can always build himself back up. He can drop entirely flat and easily squeezes through small gaps. 
Most traditional dungeon traps do absolutely nothing to Mirage: spike traps don't hurt him, as holes in his form mean nothing; he doesn't really take fall damage, just splatters a bit until he can pull himself together; giant axes that cleave him in two don't actually hurt him, either. There is one small part of Mirage’s matter that is his core. If he gets cut into pieces, the rest of him will shrivel up and evaporate in an hour or two, but his core stays alive and can regrow in a matter of days. If he gets to any cut-off piece before it evaporates, he can reassimilate it. He often messes with his form to take on any physical challenge: looking around corners with an eye on a hand; growing taller to see over a wall; spreading out his feet and legs to float on water; squeezing into cracks in an ice block and expanding in the right spot to make it all shatter. 
Mirage doesn't speak often, preferring to keep quiet. His voice is soft and slithering, with hissing Ss and a pitch that ranges from whispery to shrill. It's the worst voice in the group after Depth’s. He isn't the smartest of the Darks, but he is quite observant and if he does speak up, there's something important to pay attention to. Mirage often just goes with the group decisions, performing whatever role they require, though privately he absolutely resents having to work with anyone else, because Mirage works alone. He doesn't need companions, friends, shopkeepers, or family; he doesn't need vehicles, mounts, money, magic items, or even weapons. When he means alone, he means Very Alone. 
The thing about Legend—despite the masks and attitude he puts on—is that he cares, so so much. He cares about people being happy and safe, he bonds with everyone nice he meets whether he knows it or not, he is self-sacrificing and always working for a better world, even when people don't ask for it. Mirage does not care about much of anything except himself. He would be most content wandering around a mountain, causing a bit of chaos in a nearby town, and using his abilities to traverse impossible paths, especially through caves, just because he can. He doesn't care about the other Darks (that's a bit more of a lie than he thinks it is), he doesn't care about Legend, he doesn't care about covering the world in darkness. He’s just dragged around and knows that they have to finish this stupid mission thing before he can be left in peace. 
Mirage is somewhat fascinated with the way humans work. He's closer to an octopus or other eldritch sea creature himself, and mimics reptilian forms, but the more he learns about humans, the better he can mimic them. He might not care much about many things, but he's curious. He likes to investigate corpses (especially if he can eat them—the Dark Chain’s favorite way of “disappearing” people) and find out new things about their anatomy and chemical compositions, things he knows about and can memorize to reproduce in his own gooey flesh later. As such, he sometimes annoys the other Darks by poking at them or “testing” their senses or limits. 
He gets along best with Lost, who doesn't care much, either, and doesn't get mad at his questions or testing. Mirage responds by taking Lost babysitting duty more than his fair share. (His apathy means he's really patient with Lost and Nothing and Madness.) He makes a good team with Agony, who he sees as very similar to himself, except Agony is clearly more driven. Agony is the quick and sharp counterpart to Mirage’s slow and inevitable destruction. (And it doesn't hurt that Agony is the electricity wielder among them, so if Agony sort of likes Mirage, then all the better.) 
In a normal fight, Mirage is all but indestructible, walking through battle without problems. He doesn't bother attacking until someone hurts him, usually with fire or something similar. Then Mirage will focus to get rid of the threat—and he’s aware that the others expect him to target and take out Legend, so he does that if he has to. He's all but impossible to fight without elemental aid, and while he isn't too quick, he hits HARD and has a lot of tricks up his metaphorical sleeves. 
Still, the fact remains that if you manage to hurt him, you hurt him a lot. Mirage isn't complicated, but he's very flexible and can do things nobody is prepared for. 
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(sorry for the low contrast. But hey, my goo-drawing skills are finally relevant! Look at that hat! And the foot!)
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voidcat-senket · 1 day
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HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JEDI SURVIVOR!
Please enjoy a collection of Cal Kestis/Bode Akuna fanworks to celebrate! Find the AO3 collection here!
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tear down the planet for the hype
FIC AND ART | 4.8k | Teen and Up
“only my friends can call me by it. well, and my masters.” kestis shrugged before stepping back to sit on a stool that seemed randomly in the middle of the room. “but, we are engaged, it would be pretty weird if you were calling me by kestis.” “if it helps, my name is bode,” the jedi shadow said as he stepped forward, holding his hand out for kestis to take if he so inclined. “calling me knight akuna would be too formal for a marriage, whether or not it’s political, and—well who knows, maybe we can become friends?” [jedi shadow bode is given a mission that will end the war—marry sith prince darth kestis. that is, if he survives the first meeting.]
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 Didn't Happen, Arranged Marriage, Jedi Shadow Bode Akuna, Sith Cal Kestis, First Meetings, Marriage Contracts, Negotiations, Bode Akuna is a Mess, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Relationship, Stewjoni Cal Kestis
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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Paper and Stone
ART AND FIC | 7.4k | Teen and Up | includes Bode/Tayala
Cal goes to Nova Garon to confront Bode, but he finds the man's quarters full of echoes that show him a side of Bode Cal never thought he'd see.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Psychometry | Force Echo (Star Wars), Cal goes to Nova Garon but finds more than he expects, echoes upon echoes upon echoes, SpyScrapper, if you wanted more of Bode and Tayala's relationship here you go
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE (and a secret bonus here~)
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love is death, love is dying; love is steel, a silver lining
FIC | .5k | Teen and Up
Cal is wary of the blaster Bode has given him. Bode teaches him some basic gun safety.
Tags: Guns, Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Maybe - Freeform, You Decide, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Missing Scene, Implied Relationships, Angst
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Second Date! An Ode to Visual Novels
VIDEO | 1hr | Teen and Up
Tags: visual novel, time travel fix-it, time loop, simulated dating sim, Bode POV
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fire still burns in a vacuum
FIC | 1.6k | Teen and Up
It's been a year and Cal returns to the observatory for the first time. He hadn't expected someone else to do the same.
Tags: Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Relationship Study, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Author Welcomes All Interpretations, This Is a Study On Cal's Grief With a Twist at the End, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Dark Themes
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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Roots in Place of my Heart
8.8k | Mature | includes Bode/Tayala
When Bode saw the date, he had to swallow down a mix of blood and bile. There’s something growing in Bode’s chest, filling out the space that was left vacated when Tayala died and took his heart with her. They say the only cure to grief is life. Or death.
Tags: Hanahaki Disease with my own twist on it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Body Horror, Love Confessions, Pretending you’re fine even though you’re very much not, Grief/Mourning
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Lights Glow in your Wake
FIC | 5.4k | Teen and Up
Cal gives Bode a gift for their anniversary. The trouble is- their anniversary isn't for another three weeks, Bode is sure of it.
Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Planet Tanalorr, POV Bode Akuna, POV Third Person Limited, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jedi Culture & Customs
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Blue Skies Over Bad Lands
FIC | 18.6k | Mature
Bode looks up and Cal’s gaze snags his immediately, drawing him in. The rebel Jedi is a remarkable combination of wariness and vulnerability, like no matter how hard Cal tries to steel himself against the pain, his grief and longing and love are too strong, too pure to be contained. They shine through the cracks like a ray of blazing light. (Or: Bode and Cal fall in love. It complicates things.)
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Mild Sexual Content, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Pining, Confessions, Secret Identity Fail, Canon Rewriteish, Cal Kestis is a Force of Nature and Bode couldn't get off this ride even if he wanted to, They're In Love Your Honor
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I Don't Wanna Say No to This
FIC | 4.1k | Teen and Up
Bode is not actually looking for Cal Kestis when he trips over him on his way out of the bar. He’s looking for work, actually— he needs to fix up the ancient freighter he’d wound up buying for Kata and himself, that first awful week after finding Tanalorr and feeling it clutching at him in the Force, the planet a near-sentient thing, clawing, greedy… He shakes off the sensation, hopes it’s only a memory, and looks down at Kestis. He’s unconscious, his face a single bruise, and there are four beings surrounding them. None of them look like anyone he’d leave alone in an alley with anyone, even someone who most likely wants him very dead.
Tags: Bittersweet, Angst, Miscommunication, Reunions, Forgiveness, Rescue, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bode was not ready to face his past, Cal's not emotionally capable of facing his past, Together they make like one entire functioning person, Past Relationship(s), Established Relationship
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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a soft place to land
FIC | 3.8k | Mature
A hot day on Koboh leads to a shared shower and a realization - sometimes it's nice to be taken care of.
Tags: Smitten Bode Akuna, Bode Akuna Lives, Hair Washing, Making Out, i still don't know how to tag these things, Fluff and Mush, Near-Human Cal Kestis, Again, sharp teeth sharp teeth sharp teeth, Body Worship, Smitten Cal Kestis, Soft Cal Kestis, POV Bode Akuna, soft intimacy, Light Angst, showering together, Not Canon Compliant, Post-game, We call this "fluid dynamics" with the way Cal and Bode keep switching
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I could see one of the hobbies Retro picks up in their free time being embroidery. They start small and then the Vs start finding things added to clothes they asked Retro to repair or smaller items.
Velvette finds her handkerchief has her Vs logo sewn into it. With hearts added to the sleeve of her favourite nightwear she asked Retro to fix.
Vox finds little sharks and sea bunnies sewn into the cushion case Retro made for his screen office. His formerly torn jacket now repaired getting lightening patterns sewn around his cuffs.
Valentino would need someone to point our Retro stitched his Vs logo into his directors chair, though he did notice Retro added a pink smoke pattern around the hem of his skirt when they fixed it.
Plus I could see Retro's frilly house work apron gaining stitched references to the Vs on the pocket, which when they notice would make the three delighted as Retro wears the apron almost everywhere.
Yes!! They would definitely do this!
On another note, I’ve personally been getting into knitting and crochet and I can say that Retro would DEFINITELY be making a bunch of things for the Vs.
They’d make a lot of small sea bunnies and hide them around the tower, just to be found by anyone. Vox and Vel are competing to see who can find the most (Val is uninterested, seeing as he’s still searching for the guns he knows Retro is still hiding for him).
Angel Dust actually has quite a few that he keeps in his room. He brings one to the Hotel, and is showing it to Husk when the others see it. Alastor thinks it’s cute and an endearing little game, and like the others, he doesn’t think much of it. The general consensus is that it’s cute. Lucifer goes absolute batshit when he finds out, though. Like, goddamn this man fucking loves those little sea bunnies.
Next time he visits Retro, he requests little sea bunnies wearing different outfits and Reto LOVES the idea. They start working on rubber ducks and mini sea bunny plushies together.
Retro definitely crochets a few amigurumi sharks for Vox, too! From his favorites to just sharks in general. He has a collection, now, of all the shark themed gifts he’s received since that date at the aquarium with Retro. They’ve even gone a bit further, in making him a few hanging jellyfish lamps and even a seashell windchime. They were nervous about the windchime, so they asked Valentino about it and he thought it was amazing so he helped design and make it with them. I imagine Retro and Val end up doing crafts together often.
Speaking of Val! He keeps running out of good sheets and props for his sets (the sheets specifically keep getting torn, and there’s not much you can do to fix it after the fifth time). Then, he starts finding little repairs to it all. Somethings are just straight up replaced without him even needing to ask! Next to the object in question, there will be a little crocheted moth for him. He adores it.
He also ends up getting ceiling decorations, some knitted, some not. They’re little handmade flowers of all sorts, with matching vines and leaves. (I noticed his areas of the tower seemed to have more greenery, but I’m not sure if that’s for the sets or just his preference). Now, what he’s most surprised is the fact that there aren’t many roses. Roses are the go-to for people giving Val flowers, and he’s grown used to it. When he sees forget me nots, marigolds, tulips, carnations, he’s just. Awestruck. He loves it. He was never a fan of peonies, lilies, orchids, or daisies before, but sometimes Retro would come in with his clothes repaired and the little flowers embroidered on. Occasionally, he receives a flower crown (usually when Retro has time to go out, and they probably get Rosie’s opinion on it first). Val even comes to realize that he didn’t pay Sunflowers much mind before, but they’ve quickly become one of his favorites.
Velvette is a bit different. She doesn’t notice at first, but the fabric or clothes she dumps or deems as ‘trash’ keeps being added back into her collections, repurposed in some way. Sometimes the fabric is combined with some others, which sparks an idea for a new outfit. Sometimes she finds an outfit she previously hated just hanging neatly alongside all the others, a few small changes and some little embroidery. She realizes that those changes are what makes or breaks the outfit, and that she only really hated it because it had the potential to be so good, she was only frustrated she couldn’t seem to accomplish that. With the small changes Retro makes, it’s enough to push Vel in the direction she wants to go to make her outfits as amazing as she wants.
I’m also 90% sure that Vel receives arigurumi plushies of the Vees and Retro that can be dressed up like little dolls. She’s absolutely touched by this and keeps them around, mostly in her office. She can be seen designing little outfits for the dolls, sometimes.
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lipglossanon · 7 hours
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Gloom
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!
not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not
title from Gloom by Djo
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor. 
You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest. 
You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—
“You need another drink?”
The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter. 
“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim. 
“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.
“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.
“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.
“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”
“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”
You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”
His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”
Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks. 
Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger. 
“Miss me?” 
You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom. 
“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”
Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him. 
“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”
You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick. 
“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump. 
“And?”
He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”
He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him. 
“What did you use?”
“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”
Your eyes narrow and he laughs. 
“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”
He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement. 
“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”
“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”
“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”
“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him. 
“There’s something wrong with me.”
You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown. 
“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”
His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”
Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully. 
“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”
“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”
Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.
“Do you want help?”
He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth. 
“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”
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quillkiller · 8 hours
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pleasepleaseplease elaborate on bartylus as orpheus and eurydice variants please if you want
mil!!!!! you sent this to me 2 minutes before my shift started….. i was losing my mind…. they’ve been in my head ever since…. i just got home thank god !!!!!!
anyway. so i have this au/wip which is loosly (very loose!!) based on the eurydice and orpheus myth but also set in canon. i have a tag for it ’fic: don’t look back’ <3
here’s a little snippet:
”Barty,”
It comes out as a breath, as an exhale— but it almost shatters him. If he wasn’t on his knees already he knows they would buckle. Knows he would fall down at Regulus’ feet. He almost looks.
so regulus still goes to the cave, and he still dies. he doesn’t go out of the kindness of his heart, but because he’s tired and he did it all wrong and he can’t win and he just wants it to be over. he goes because he misses his brother and he wants his brother to live. he doesn’t care about the rest of it, the war, the two sides, voldy or dumbledore or the prophecy. he wants out and he’ll never get his brother back so he’ll do this one thing to (hopefully) save his brother even if sirius will never know <3 after that he’s done. he goes to the cave knowing he’s going to die and he wants to. he yearns for the dark and the quiet !!!! he’s 17 and he thinks he’s lived way too long and he just wants out now
he leaves barty a letter. it’s vague but barty figures it out. they spend one last night together because regulus is selfish and greedy and want him just one more night. they used to fumble around back at hogwarts. they were each others firsts and they trusted each other but they were never together. not actually. just stumbling into each others beds, shakey hand jobs, clumsy blowjobs, sloppy kisses. they didnt really talk about it either but not in an awkward way, they just didnt really need to. it was about comfort and love and boyhood and fear and safety and they’re just. so special to me. not dating, not best friends, but a secret third thing. just so completely intertwined but so different from each other.
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- virginia woolf. this is the bartylus dynamic to me. like. everything was awful, their homes, their circumstances, their surroundings, their expecations. but they were also just boys. everythings awful but sometimes they’d sit in the slytherin common room and they’d make each other laugh. sirius left but barty is waiting for him at kings cross with a grin :,)
anyway. it all sort of stopped after they both took the dark mark. they still had each others backs and they’re always best friends and intertwined!! but i guess there’s just too much else to think about now ahdhdjajfjkd. but reg comes to barty the night before he leaves for the cave and they properly spend the night together. its messy and miserable and lovely and it feels like a goodbye. reg leaves before barty wakes up the next morning.
barty!!!!!!!! goes mad. mad with regret and anger and desperation and love and hatred and every other emotion under the sun. he wants him back and he will get him back. barty is smart, was top of his class, is a quick learner in all things magic. i don’t know how long it takes, if its months or years, but barty is on a rampage and he’s seeing red and he’s not sleeping and he’s not at all himself. he sees reg as a ghost, talks to him, he’s haunted. he aquires several forbidden books from shady sources about magic that has long since been banned. he will bring regulus back if it’s the last thing he does. eventually he finds either a spell or some magic ritual (haven’t figured it out yet) that existed back in the 1700s but has been banned almost immediately due to people just. coming back wrong. miserable and wailing. barty’s not seeing that though. he’s just seeing that he can bring him back. so he learns everything there is to know about the spell/ritual and then sets out to go to the cave. months or years later, i still haven’t decided. i think it would be a little sexy if it was a couple years after reg died.
that’s where the eurydice & orpheus myth comes in. basically barty isn’t allowed to look at regulus until they both get out of the place where he died. but it also differs because regulus so desperately wants him to look. regulus is miserable when he’s brought back. miserable and young and confused and angry.
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by paul tran is and always will be rab when he enters the cave!!
so reg is trying to seduce barty to please look at him. please look at me. and barty wants to more than anything. the first time he finally takes a breath since regs death is when he finally brings him back. the relief overwhelming. and it lasts for 0.01 seconds because regulus doesn’t want to live. he’s so angry and he’s sobbing and wants to go back. but barty doesn’t want him to. and he’s telling regulus it’s going to be okay and they’ll be okay and he’ll protect him and take care of him. but regulus doesn’t care. and barty is desperate:/
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sadly barty is greedy. and weak. and it’s been years and it’s desperate and he can’t remember the shade of blueish gray regs eyes were. and regs pleading hurts. and barty just wants him. he just wants him and wants to keep him and he was never ready to lose him and he isn’t ready now. but it all boils down to the fact that barty is equally impulsive as he is strategic. he spent years (?) trying to figure out a way to being regulus back and more of his friends died during that time. he’s done what he set out to do. so he looks. because reg is asking him to and because barty isn’t strong enough not to look at what he wants
and yeah.
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thinking about hamilton and burr together but not in a kissing way but in a you are so different on surface but are made of the same core way. they have the same sort of wants and hurt but they project it in such different ways.
#two people put together like that would either love each other with their entire hearts or would kill each other.#maybe both#alex and henry from rwrb are kind of examples from this.#look cmq made alex too similar to hamilton and henry too similar to burr for me to not connect the dots.#but while their character traits put them lethally against each other in the play in the book its.. different.#i can talk about alex more since both in the book and play we see alexander more (both such fucking main characters)#i think alex from rwrb had a comparatively better foundation in childhood than hamilton. he's less scrappy than hamilton#he still does things like be lonely and drown himself in his work etc etc you all saw the parallels#but but but he sort of has room for love in his heart in a way hamilton doesnt. maybe he did with laurens because its said that he#never really opened up the same after he died. makes me think that was pretty serious. but its not in the play so im not going too much#into it. alex isn't as suspicious and survivalistic as hamilton. if hamilton saw henry he would've never put him before his work#but alex does. from his side i think that's what makes the difference.#like how he says to henry in the fight scene that they're not really very different people?? remember that#there's waaay too many coincidences i am ready to believe cmq wrote rwrb as a very very sneaky adaptation of hamiltons life#the slightest hint from them and i would believe it. this is a conspiracy theory i can get behind#rwrb#red white and royal blue#hamilton#hmm i been having thoughts about this for the past 2 hours#maybe this stem thing was a mistake maybe i should've taken literature. i like what i do though
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itspileofgoodthings · 11 months
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I am the first to point out that, of the two leads in P&P, Lizzy’s is the far deeper moral transformation and to say that Darcy’s character especially re: his flaws is wildly misunderstood and frequently painted out worse than he is out of fear of his particular kind of power. All of that said, I do love that Lizzy is just like “no, the way you treat me isn’t good enough and I will not simply accept it”
#and the fact that he agrees with her completely and does something about it#proves how fundamentally good he is and always has been#idk. I just love that she isn’t afraid of him#and that she DOESN’t ever sort of like make up a tragic story for him for his silence and reserve#she’s just like. what is that Man doing over there in the corner#if That Man liked me he would show it differently#that Man should treat people better in social situations#and like. she isn’t wholly wrong#she is wrong about a lot as regards him#but her mistakes (some part of them) is just common man refreshing and he sees the sense in them#and again. there is no fear#both Bingley and Georgianna are a little afraid of him#and Bingley needs to take responsibility for his own actions nonetheless#but he feels the force of the personality! and sometimes has trouble standing up to it!#Georgianna’s fear is much more awe/respect/little sister love#But I just#there is something about Lizzy where she’s just so unafraid of him#and so uninterested in being awed by him in a certain way#and it’s so good for him and his generous heart absolutely loves that#basically Darcy had just gotten used to being the coolest/smartest person in the room#and had grown complacent#(because he really isn’t fundamentally bad mannered. even before)#and there’s a lot of reasons all the stuff comes out of his mouth during the first proposal#and a lot of it is the expression of the internal war he’s been fighting#And tbh it’s both honest romantic and valid#and yet all of that said Lizzy is still like ‘and I have to hear you say this about my family why?’#and her explosive anger towards him is rooted in so much that ISN’t fair#and (again) the deeper moral transformation is hers I fully believe that#but that part of Lizzy that’s just like ‘I am too cool and interesting for you to be speaking to me like this’#‘I am just as cool and interesting as you and I am unafraid of you’ is so valid and so funny
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bisaster-energy · 8 months
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okay what you have to understand is that while against the kitchen floor is a dean song...willard! has cas written all over it
#guess who really started listening to will wood 😳#like just listen to me ok hear me out...#i dont owe u my heart or my body but shit i do fuckin owe u and im so sorry that i cannot be good as u are#the irony of dean not thinking of himself as human as cas learned to be is not lost on me#and even tho he fucks up constantly he cant bring himself to want cas to end their relationship (wtv it may be)#apologizing for the way he is bc tbh if dean never figures out how he feels simply because he himself doesn't know#what he wants he probably would end up just giving cas.his body because he owes him something and#he cant figure out what he can possibly give in the face of that all consuming frankly terrifying love#ahem. onto willard#ik i said cas knows how to be human but that's in dean's eyes. cas doesn't get being human at all even tho he does (?)#like his homeless/steve arc he cant get a grasp on how humans do all the things they do and live they way they live#the beginning of the song he talks about not being able to step on ants and crying for moths#now that could be cas talking about actual insect but ALSO humans! bc he's learned to care!!#but yea if cas had some sort of animal he saw every now and then while on the street? a cat or a rat etc that's how i envision#him with this song#he himself has been stepped on so many times! it started to feel like his place! not truly part of the winchesters not truly angel#just cas now...#is there room for me in your cage whether that be earth or a real rat he feels he understands#it's confusing for him to connect! never learned what to feel from childhood like humans do!#he was thrown into the deep end#they call me crazy but their words all seem made up to me -> honeybee cas fr#also i can see steve bringing a little creature into the gas n sip his own little guy#also the peace vs freedom thing. animals are put in cages. humans locked in heaven.#and cas has achieved free will but he has to wrestle with whether it's better to be content or break chains#you might seem behind bars but friend this cage is inside out! dean and sam are trapped in this destiny#but they both say fuck it !! but heaven wasn't just a cage to humans it's a cage for angels too#yeah ur fate is fucked but at keast you had a fate to change yknow. cas didn't just change his story#he didn't have one so he literally wrote it#i can't listen to this song without thinking about cas human hungry and alone#it's AWFUL out here socrates. it's DANGEROUS out here socrates. it's lonely out here socrates 🤡🤡🤡
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bobzora · 1 year
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royal trio is funny bc its not even a real trio like, say, the shujin buddies. right. like joker has friendships/whatever-you-want-to-call-his-thing-with-akechi with each of them individually but goro and sumi do not talk to each other. let alone have many actual trio interactions all together outside of sumi being vaguely uncomfortable with the energy in the room. the trio is based solely off vibes and the fact that they are the only people around for a while and not any actual (voiced) group connection.
however they are bestfriends to me. there was bonding off screen To Me. they're so iconic for this. i love them.
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)
cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.
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cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.
even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."
and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.
which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.
the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.
you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.
he answered on the second ring.
"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.
"be there in 5," then hung up.
he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.
true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.
inside the ladies bathroom.
he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.
he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.
so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.
furious.
some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.
you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?
simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.
everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.
in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.
until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.
you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."
his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"
you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.
"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."
nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.
simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.
he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.
simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.
hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—
"yes."
he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.
"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.
simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.
and so the elephant marches to war.
-
it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.
his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.
"he is no longer a problem."
he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.
"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."
simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.
"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."
your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."
one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.
"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.
there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.
he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.
"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."
the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.
"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"
the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.
later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.
for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.
-
simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.
nothing.
shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.
your wish is his command.
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ellemj · 4 months
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Strawberries
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.
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Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?
Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 7.5k
A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.
            Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.
            Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.
            “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.
            As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.
            “You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.
            “He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.
            Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.
            Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?
---
            It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.
            When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.
            “Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.
            “If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?
            When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.
---
            You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.
            Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.
            “Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.
            “Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.
            “Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.
            You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.
            When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.
            Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.
            “I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.
            “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”
            “I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”
            “You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.
            “Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.
            Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.
            “What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.
            “You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.
            “Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.
            “Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.
            “Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.
            When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.
            “Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.
            “I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”
            His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.
            “You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.
            Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.
            You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.
            “Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”
            “I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.
            “You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.
            Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.
            “Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.
            “You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.
            “I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.
            “You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.
            You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.
            “Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.
            “Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.
            “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.
            “Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.
            “I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.
            Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.
            “Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.
            “Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.
            “I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.
            “I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.
            “Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.
            “Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.
            Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.
            “We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.
            “Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.
            “You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.
            “I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”
            “Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.
            “I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.
            “It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”
            “Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”
            “I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.
            Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.
But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.
“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”
“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”
Shit. He might be in love with you.
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rileyslibrary · 11 months
Text
You’ve just moved in with Simon. Great.
There’s one slight problem, though: Due to the nature of his work, the guy interprets everything as an order. And executes accordingly.
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You sit on the kitchen’s table, enjoying breakfast together, when you notice the full trash bin.
“The trash needs to be taken out,” you casually mention, not giving it too much thought.
But, to your surprise, Simon shoots up from his chair like a coiled spring, leaving his half-eaten food behind. “Roger that,” he responds and jogs towards the trash bin, leaving you baffled.
“Simon?”
He stops and turns to look at you.
“Hm?”
“You don’t have to do it right now.”
“When do you want it done?” he asks, waiting for your next command.
“Wh-whenever you can,” you reply, uncertain how else to phrase it.
“I can do it now,” Simon declares and proceeds to the trash bin.
“Babe, we’re eating.” You say and point at the semi-eaten food on the kitchen table.
He looks at the food, then back at you. He shrugs.
“No,” you state, “Come sit down and finish your breakfast first.”
He nods as if Price just gave him the objectives for his next mission and jogs to the table to resume his breakfast.
He’s always like this. Last week, you found a cockroach running in the bathroom, and you screamed so loud that he almost kicked the door. When he asked you what you wanted him to do, your first instinct was a very loud and clear “KILL IT!” without thinking about your statement’s repercussions. He chased it around, murmuring stuff like “Target’s on the move” and other nonsense until he trapped the cockroach in a corner. He stepped on it once and twisted his foot. The cockroach was dead. Gone. Kaput. But he wanted to do it again, to “confirm the kill.” When you told him there was no need since the cockroach was already a pulp and left you all to a better place, he refused and ordered an “evac” of the bathroom to “do it properly.” And when you asked if “properly” meant an AK-47 and camo apparel, he thought about it long and hard before agreeing that further escalation would be unnecessary.
Be it his ingrained behaviour as a soldier to execute orders, deeply rooted within his system, or his fear not to let you down, he was finding it difficult to leave his work duties at the door. He always carried them inside—in the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. He acted like Ghost, not Simon. Everything was a matter of order to him, and there was no time for relaxation.
But it doesn’t have to be like this; you want him to know that. He doesn’t have to be so rigid at home. He can relax and take a step back from his institutionalised habits.
To prove your point, you decide to give him another instruction, this time more indirectly.
You glance at the sink; some pans are picking out from making breakfast this morning.
“Oh boy,” you moan, trying to pull off an act, “we have to clean the dishes at some point.”
He raises his head to look at the kitchen sink, then sides-eyes you.
“Any particular time you want that done?” He asks, ironically.
“I said ‘at some point’, Simon,” you snap, “there’s no urgency.”
“You also said we ‘have’ to do it,” he snaps back. “‘Have to’ has some sort of urgency in it, doesn’t it?”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You’re right, but it’s more of a general statement,” you reply. “We can do it whenever it’s convenient.”
Simon processes your words and nods.
You stare at him while he eats, and you feel a tug at your heart, urging you to address the underlying issue on your mind. You take a deep breath, searching for the right words to express your feelings without offending him. You reach out and touch his arm to grab his attention. He turns to face you.
“You’re so dedicated to what you do; it’s one of the things I love about you,” you begin, “but our home should be a place where we can both unwind and be ourselves without feeling like we’re constantly on a mission.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asks.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, wanting to explain them in a way that resonates with him.
“Well, when you jump to fulfil every request or task like it’s an order, it sometimes feels like we’re always on duty,” you explain gently. “I want us to create a more relaxed atmosphere here, where we can enjoy each other’s company and take things at a slower pace.”
He thinks about it for a while.
“Am I doing that?” He asks.
You slowly nod with a gentle smile.
“Affirmative,” he replies, “I’ll try to take it down a notch.”
“No ‘roger’, no ‘affirmative’, nothing like that is needed here,” you explain.
“Is ‘alright’ alright?” He asks.
“Yes,” you smile, “alright is alright.”
He finishes his breakfast and puts his dish in the sink.
“So,” he says, pointing one hand at the dirty dishes and the other at the bin. “Is there any particular order in which you want these two to be done?”
You smile. “No, babe; you take out the trash, and I’ll do the dishes.”
“Underst-alright, alright.” He corrects himself and walks to the garbage. He ties up the bag’s strings and picks up the bin. He spots you looking at him.
“Am I doing something wrong?” He hesitates.
“Why are you taking the entire bin with you?”
He keeps looking at you and places the bin on the floor.
“Just in case the bag’s ripped,” he explains, “I don’t want to spill garbage juice on the floor.”
“Oh.”
“Should I take the bag only?” He asks and begins to remove it from the bin.
“No… that’s pretty smart, actually.”
He raises his eyebrows and points a thumb at himself.
“Yes, Simon,” you nod and smile, “you’re pretty smart and considerate. I’ll carry out the same procedure while on trash bin duty.”
He puffs up his chest and picks up the bin with the bag in it.
“I’m dedicated, smart and considerate.” You hear him boast to himself as he walks towards the exit, ready to execute his mission.
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