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heartylunalys · 2 years

Text

Cannes Film Festival

Austin Butler x black actress! reader

my masterlist || part 2

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genre: smut, tiny bit of fluff

words: 3k

warnings: well…smut, oral f receiving, slight spanking, a manager being annoying as fuck

notes : I loved writing this fic and I hope you will like to read it. I needed to write for Austin since he’s completely clouding my mind since I watched Elvis.

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Cannes Film Festival, an incredible and fancy place where everyone has nice dresses and tuxedos, a view of the beautiful southern French coast, journalists and fans all trying to take a glimpse at the many celebrities here.

You don’t really feel at your place here even if you’re glad to be here, with the big names of the industry. Being a young actress, it’s the first time you’re attending the event, the movie you played in was totally the genre of movie loved in the festival: intense, aesthetically pleasing, a little bit long… You were glad to be the main character in this movie as a black woman, you thought it was a way to show the versatility of black women and how they weren’t always meant to play aggressive, mean characters and conforms to black stereotypes.

The first night of the festival, even if you were tired, having too much spotlight suddenly, your manager begged you to go to the Elvis after-party, saying it will be a perfect occasion to meet new contacts and relieve the stress of the day. After almost 10 minutes of explaining your tiredness to her you understood that she wasn’t going to let you rest in your hotel room so you followed her to La Croisette where the party was at.

“Look at all these people,” she said excitedly, “if we don’t find someone to cast you in all these I don’t know what to do anymore.” She laughed and you forced a smile, clearly annoyed but you didn’t want to act disrespectful.

The party was something, there were a lot of people and you could easily recognize some faces that you already saw on the big screen. However you didn’t feel like talking or even approaching them, maybe because you didn’t feel legit to be in here, you were exhausted and not a very talkative person, so you just decided to take the drink one of the servers offered you, staying away from everyone. You were admiring the pretty landscape of Cannes, wishing you could leave to explore the city. The lights were bright, reflected in the Bay of Cannes.

As you lightly bobbed your head to the music, trying to ease your nerves a little bit, a figure was walking towards you with a little smile and you wanted nothing more than to disappear in the crowd of fake smiles and hypocritical laughs.

“Hey, I think I’ve never seen you before. You’re..y/n right?” The man with a deep voice and a slight southern accent said and you immediately smiled, seeing that the rumors about keeping his character voice were true.

“Yeah, I’m quite a newbie in this type of event, it’s my first time here.” You answered, still not looking at him, searching for a way to run away from this exchange.

“I totally understand,” he cleared his throat searching for something to say, “Did you like the movie ?” He asked with a little pride in his voice.

“Which movie?” It didn’t even occur to you that you were at a party for the movie Elvis, a movie that you watched just before and that you even liked.

“Well, Elvis, my movie.” He explained, a little amused at your question and you were glad that he wasn’t mad at you for this.

“Oh my god I’m sorry,” you quickly responded, clearly embarrassed by your mistake, “I loved it, a lot, it was wow, it was something.” You muttered and finally looked at his face and you wish you didn’t. His blue eyes felt like they were piercings your own dark irises, a smirk plastered on his face while he watched you attentively. “You were incredible.” You let out, almost like a whisper.

“Thank you, it was my job to mesmerize the ladies.” He joked and you laughed, feeling a little bit ridiculous to have a change in your attitude so obvious once you saw his handsome features. “Do you want another drink?” He asked sweetly and you immediately accepted.

You’re night was delighted with Austin. You drank all night with him, laughing and talking in each other's ears with sultry voices.

You were now feeling a little tipsy and clearly the man talking at you was partly responsible for your situation. Your bodies were pressed against each other’s, slowly swinging with the music. Austin’s hands found their place on your waist, going up and down almost cupping your breast.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” He whispered in your ear and you shivered from the sound of his deep voice in your ear.

“Where are you taking me?” You slightly teased him hoping he would announce that you were taking the way to his hotel room.

“Wherever you want, lead the way.” You could hear an almost innuendo in his sentence as his hand traveled from your waist to your thighs. His touch lingered on your skin.

“Well.” You took his hand ready to lead the way to your hotel room with a slight smirk, feeling hot and dizzy from the alcohol and the touch of the handsome boy behind you.

“Y/n! Where do you think you’re going?” Your manager hissed while taking you by the arm, she eyed Austin from head to toe, not impressed by him, “We’re going home, you have to rest.” She gave the two of you a death stare before pulling you out of the party to the car waiting for you to come home.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” You asked, clearly pissed off.

“Well, I’m keeping you from making a fool of yourself.” She strictly said, looking at her phone to message all the people she managed to find for the evolution of your career.

“Making a fool of myself are you kidding me?” You were clearly annoyed now, with a harsh tone in your voice.

“Look darling, I think, and it’s only for your well-being, that it would be terrible for you and your reputation to be seen as a whore fucking with anyone. It would be a shame wouldn’t it be?” She wasn’t really asking you a question, she was simply stating her mind with an almost mom tone, clearly looking down on you.

“I don’t accept that you think you can talk to me like that.” You harshly spoke and she simply hummed, not interested in this conversation anymore.

The rest of the ride was silent, an electric atmosphere lingered in the car. Once you arrived at your hotel, you quickly got out of it, ignoring the voice of your manager giving you instructions for tomorrow. You walked to your room, frustrated, feeling like you were 15 all again and people could feel like they had a word to say in your life. You’re sure you had at least an hour of nervous breakdown, all the pressure washing over you. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be your life, maybe you didn’t have the shoulders for it.

As you were wiping the mascara that runned, watching attentively at yourself in pity, your phone ringed, getting you out of your racing mind. The number was unknown and you were ready to freak out at the person calling you at this hour.

“What?” You harshly asked while picking up, not even letting your interlocutor speak.

“Is it y/n?” A deep voice asked and you couldn’t believe your ear.

“Austin? How did you get my number?” You murmured, a little bit taken aback by hearing him. He laughed lightly and you loved the sound.

“It was difficult but I did it finally.” He didn’t really answer your question but you couldn’t care less about that with how happy you were to hear him. “I’m sorry my manager is such a bitch, I wish I could have stayed longer.” You explained remorsefully.

“I wish you stayed too but hey,” he paused for a second and you waited for him, “Can I come by?” You could hear the malicious smile in his voice. How could you say no to that proposition?

“I’m texting you the info.” You informed him, trying to hide your excitement. After that you hung up, immediately texting him everything he needed to know to be able to come in. You sprinted to the bathroom to do your makeup, trying to accentuate the gorgeous features of your face. Then, you quickly changed yourself, trying to find something sexy but not too much, putting sexy lingerie under your silk dress. You unbraided your hair from the 2 braids you had done to go to sleep. You quickly picked your curls and coils, reshaping your hair like you wanted it. You plumped your lips one last time with your gloss and looked at yourself with pride.

Approximately 10 minutes after your rush you could hear a car pulling up to your hotel. You quickly looked from your window and you perceived the handsome figure of Austin going out of his car and walking nonchalantly in your hotel. You waited on your bed trying to swallow your nerves, you were not feeling as confident as before now that the effects of alcohol had faded. The knock on your door obligated you to stand up and open it, ready to face the beautiful boy.

“Hey.” He smiled and you step out of the way to let him enter your room.

“Don’t talk too loud, the witch is in the room next to mine.” You said while directing your gaze to your wall to explain to him. He snorted and looked at you from head to toes, letting his gaze stop at every parcel of your skin he could see.

“You’re gorgeous.” He stated while taking you by your hips, your dress slightly went up your thighs.

“And you’re handsome.” You answered and his lips found yours, kissing you passionately like he waited for it the whole night. You placed your arms on his neck while one of his hands was now gripping your ass. A soft moan came out of your mouth, Austin took advantage of it to let his tongue meet yours. Your hand was now pulling his hair, and the slight pain was making him even more hornier, pulling you right against him, feeling the bulge in his pants. The kiss was sloppy and wild, the two of you wanting to feel the other.

You pushed him on the bed, your legs encircling his thighs and his bulge right under your core. You attacked his neck, sucking, biting and kissing it. Your movements were making him even harder and he let out groans at the friction.

“You’re so sexy like that.” He stated, his blue eyes almost closed and his plumped lips slightly ajar. His torso was going up and down from his breathing.

“You should see yourself right now.” you murmured in his ear while unbuttoning his black shirt, caressing his hot skin.

His finger slowly lowered your dress straps, his touch felt like a feather on you. He finally exposed your red lace bra, his mouth traveling from your neck to your chest, his eyes piercing yours and his hips rocking slowly under you.

“Austin.” You moaned and he unclaimed your bra, replacing it with his hands while his hair was pulled by you.

He exchanged your positions and you were now on your back on the bed as Austin was above you, admiring your hair on the bed, your pleased face, your perfect chest and the rest of your body that was perfect for him.

“I want to please you,” he started with his hoarse voice, “to make you come before I fuck you.”

“Please do it.” You muttered as his mouth encircled one of your nipple, biting it slightly. His hand traveled to your panties, primarily playing with you by lightly touching you to earn soft whimpers from your mouth. You could feel his smile. He slowly lowered your panties and coated his fingers with your juice before drawing painfully slow circles on your clit. You pressed your nails into his shoulder and he deeply groaned before lowering his kisses and bites from your breast to your abdomen until he was in front of your pussy.

He looked at you to ask for your consent and you tiredly nodded. Austin kissed the inside of your thighs, letting a hot feeling in every spot his lips touched. He finally licked a long strip of your pussy, tasting you with pleasure as his eyes were still looking into yours. He lapped you like you were the most delicious threat on earth, sucking on your clit and licking it godly.

“You’re so fucking good.” He moaned and as your hand gripped his hair you saw him rutting against the bed trying to relieve himself.

“Fuck Austin, Austin! Don’t stop!” You begged and he added two fingers in your core that made you scream.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping, don’t worry baby.” He said, sending shivers down your core.

As he pulled his fingers in and out of you, eating you out wildly, you were now grinding on his face, chasing your high.

“I’m so close, fuck!” You cried and Austin deeply moaned with how hard you were gripping his hair. You felt your orgasm like the pleasure just exploded in you, you were screaming his name and your breath was ragged. He kept pleasing you until you gently pushed his face away, your legs shakingly encircling his shoulders.

“Fuck, you make me so hard.” Austin muttered and you quickly looked at his pants where the form of his hard dick could now be seen. “You’re gonna let me fuck you hard now, right?” He cockily asked and a horny yes rolled out of your mouth. “You’re so good for me, so gorgeous and sexy, I wish I could have you like that everyday, all day.” He scented your neck, addicted to your perfume.

“Can I make you feel good too?” You asked sweetly and he smirked at you before caressing your cheek.

“Just turn around and bend over for me if you want to please me.” You executed his orders, shivers running down your spine.

You heard him search for a condom in his pocket before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before placing himself behind you, gripping your ass to make it wiggle a little bit while kissing up and down your back.

“You ready?” He whispered and you felt him rubbing his dick slowly on your clit.

“Fuck me Austin.” You almost moaned and Austin slowly entered into you, stretching you deliciously. Your breath hitched, biting your lips in pleasure.

“I don’t think I can control myself with you.” He groaned as he began to move, one hand on your back, pulling out completely before slamming into you. The side of your face crashed on the pillow, moaning all sorts of obscenities. Austin was fucking you wildly, moaning your name from time to time and slightly spanking your ass to hear you scream how much you loved it. One of his hand was on your neck to keep you in position so he could fuck you so deep and good, hitting you at the perfect angle, making your legs tremble and your mind go dumb.

“Austin, Austin, keep…keep doing.” You chanted, liking being used as a fuck toy by the boy. You could feel your core throbbing around Austin’s cock as the sensation of him in you was beginning to be too much to handle. You repeated his name like it was the only thing you could think off while creaming him, your mouth full opened, almost drooling from the pleasure of your orgasm.

“God, you’re making me crazy y/n.” Austin scratched your hips from how his nails were pressed on your hips as he felt his own high from your pulsating pussy. You understood he was coming as you heard the moans he let out and the way his movements were getting sloppier and even stronger.

He stayed in you a little bit more, catching his breath and caressing your back to your thighs softly.

“I’ll be right back.” He whispered as he pulled off of you to throw away the condom. You laid on the bed, watching him tiredly. He sat beside you, putting back on his underwear and your heart ached a little bit, you hoped he would stay at least for the night. When he took completely off his shirt and laid just beside you, taking you in his arms as he caressed your shoulder you felt relieved and content. The smell off his cologne lingered on the sheets and you smiled against his torso.

“What?” He amusedly asked, a smile plastered on his own face.

“Nothing, let me sleep.” You answered in the same tone and he laughed lightly. He peppered your hair with sweet kisses and at this moment you thought that you could get used to this.

The next morning you were alone in your bed, waking up to the voice of your manager at your door screaming at you to wake up before it was too late to go. You sighed, upset from this situation that contrasted completely with the idyllic night before.

“Stop shouting I’m fucking awake!” You screamed in the direction of your door. You then saw the little piece of paper beside you on the nightstand and saw that it was signed Austin.

I loved this night with you but I wish we could get to know each other. What do you think of a date tonight ? I’ll come pick you up at 10.

Austin.

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notes: So.. part 2 ?

I hope you guys liked it, I’m also preparing an Elvis fic so stay tuned.

I’m taking requests by the way.

Likes, reblogs and comments are well appreciated!

I created this blog to allow black girls to feel more comfortable with reading x reader, as a black person I saw how much we weren’t really represented in the fanfic community

* ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° * ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

This is my work, please don’t repost it, translate it or take it without my permission.

04/07/2022

#black reader #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine #elvis movie #elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader

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danothan · 9 months

Note

(Heads up, the post discusses the abusive nature of Martin and Hal’s relationship pre-2005, as you may be able to tell from the link, so here’s your content warning)

https://www.tumblr.com/ufonaut/725487371146133504/space-case-the-pre-2005-martin-jordan

Hi hello! I know you already hate Geoff but I was wondering if you knew about this aspect of Stuff He Did/Changed/Ruined. As a comic newbie I thought it was interesting and perhaps you have a take of your own :)

The differing continuities means it’s probably unintentional, but it does create an interesting implication for at least the first GL Knight Terrors,,, I haven’t read the second one yet so they might not follow up on it lol

thanks sm for sharing this with me! i appreciate being informed + considered in the conversation :D while i vaguely knew that hal’s dad was Not Great pre-geoff johns, i didn’t know how or to what extent, nor did i know that the changes in his family dynamic were kicked off earlier than johns’s run either!

gd no matter which version you go with, the common denominator is that hal was the black sheep of his family for being neurodivergent. kid can’t catch a break 🤕

from the explanation of the link alone, i think both versions explain his fear rly well with traumas that realistically play into every aspect of his life. there’s an influence that runs deep: his fear of having power and not knowing what to do with it bc he saw his father abuse that authority, his inability to grieve or acknowledge his trauma bc he was punished every time he tried—these are very different but very important traits in hal’s overall character. i was surprised to see how well aware pre-2005 hal was of the abuse he dealt at the hands of his father. post-2005 doesn’t even know that he was a victim of his family dysfunction, let alone recognize any of it as abuse

i like that in both versions, he has suicidal tendencies to paradoxically prove that he’s not suicidal (i think. i can only confidently speak on modern hal, but hal being reckless with his life is kinda just a persistent theme). the way the current narrative portrays it, hal idolizes his dad sm that when he died, he couldn’t bear to think that his last moments were in fear. it would force him to confront the fact that his dad wasn’t the great hero he worshipped, forcing himself to realize he’s just as vulnerable and that the rose-tinted nostalgia for his youth might be wrong. so he puts himself on the line with bravado bc if he dies, at least he could tell himself that he wasn’t scared. and from what i can tell of the older comics, hal was forced to be brave bc it was a survival tactic; if he could just go along with what his dad wanted, then maybe he could finally get his approval. and all that taught him was that the only thing worse than death is failure, so he’d put himself on the line to prove it. he can tell himself that he’s accomplished more than anyone’s ever believed in him, but his dad’s words still haunt him

the change in his backstory is a change in his character as well, and as someone that enjoys comics as a puzzle to figure out, i’d like to factor in all of these moving parts as much as i can make them fit. before, i thought martin’s death martyred him; now i think that interpretation could include both of these versions moving forward. if current hal is already putting his dad on a pedestal, then the follow up question would be “what does that hide abt him?”

interesting implications indeed…

but this is where i get to share my personal thoughts/ biases! bc i’m very preferential + love complicating things, simply stating that martin’s death put him on a pedestal doesn’t satisfy me. now between you and me, i personally prefer the current narrative (i mean obviously, that’s my only firsthand experience, so i’m taking my own thoughts with a grain of salt here)

a huge part of hal’s interest in planes comes from the fact that he and his dad bonded over them together, but it also bordered on obsession

i mentioned before that hal was treated unfairly by his family for being neurodivergent, and scenes like this one definitely have nd subtext to me. the older comics had his father berate him for “having his head in the clouds” (*cough* adhd), the newer comics have his mother keep his interests away from him bc “he’s consumed by it” (*cough* autism). but what’s difficult abt meshing these two is that martin being a source of ableist abuse becomes confusing if he’s nd too, specifically encouraging hal to indulge in his special interest (btw hal has audhd either way peace and love ✌️)

so i think i would take this the same way as jessica: did irreparable damage as a parent but there were enough good moments that hal wants to remember instead. his dad verbally abused him for having “weak” emotions, but hey, at least he let him skip school! and sure, he might’ve hit him, but would a bad dad introduce him to his special interest? (and so there’s no misunderstanding, i’m speaking facetiously here)

i think hal has had genuinely fond memories with both of his parents, most ppl wouldn’t be able to gauge that there was smth going on with the way he talks abt them, which is not uncommon for abusive relationships in general. it just doesn’t erase the trauma it left him with. jessica cherished and tried to protect hal but ultimately suffocated him, and martin nurtured hal’s passion and gave him “freedom” but harmed his well-being

i’m too under-read and biased to give both versions equal share in my interpretation, but i will say that i rly appreciate the older comics for their explicit portrayal of toxic masculinity in hal. like that shit is literally killing him but i don’t often see his dad playing a role in it when he obviously got it from him, nor is it shown as the root of those problems. if there’s one thing that makes modern comics hard to read, it’s the unironic machismo. again, LITERALLY killing him.

as for the differences in hal’s suicidality that i mentioned earlier, there’s actually a lot of similarities with the ways he treats his own life. in either case, hal tries to be brave to prove smth (to his dad in the old, to himself in the new). the main difference is fear vs worship, and honestly those are just two sides of the same coin. it goes back to that toxic masculinity his dad taught him abt failure, and it ties in with wanting to feel connected to his dad thru their shared interest. at the core of it is denial

i would have to get into more older comics to rly flesh this interpretation out, but i think this is laying out some interesting groundwork. thank you again for this ask, rly gave my brain a treat today!

#hal jordan #martin jordan #green lantern #dc #danswers #danbles #panels #meta #cw child abuse #suicide mention #it’s so interesting to me that in both versions hal is the one that gets singled out for being nd #but pre-2005 hal knew his brothers got better treatment #obviously with the current nd-coding that bias would look different #so what do they think now? did they know?? were they affected by it too???#god this introduces so many new ideas into the picture #hal is that one bob’s burger audio that goes ‘i just realized i had a bad childhood’ / ‘yeah ik’ / ‘wdym yk?’ / ‘look at you’

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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 2 years

Note

63 and Garvez PLEASE

The First Morning

63. "Stop running from this! I know I’m not the only one who feels it!”

It’d been two years. On and off for two years. And really there was no official “off” it’s just they were separated by 29 states and a three hour time difference, and ok, three hours was’t a whole lot, but when one of you woke up at 5:30 am every morning and the other didn’t wake up until 9am and the 9 am one was really the one three hours behind…they didn’t have a lot of time. He rarely made time for girlfriends that had lived in the same house as him, so she should have been happy he was making the effort with her. But it just made her sad. But now she was back. Mostly against her will. And seeing him. Felt weird. It shouldn’t have, seeing your boyfriend shouldn’t feel weird.

"Chica, we need to talk.” They were eating breakfast, a quick bite before heading in. She’d just gotten there the night before and was staying at his apartment. She was going to get a hotel, but he insisted. Why would you stay at a hotel when you have a perfectly comfortable bed with a dog waiting for you here? She couldn’t really argue his point and she wasn’t ready to face that why. She had a feeling she was going to be meeting that why over potato hash and tea shortly.

“Hmm? Oh, did you need the…” she looked around for a distraction anything she could offer him to throw this conversation to the wind. “Actually i’m just gonna- I need to-“ She shot up scurrying out of the room, ice water racing through her and the knot in her stomach growing. He snatched out for her wrist, but it was only half hearted, she wasn’t ready. Luke let her go, head falling to his hands on the kitchen table.

They needed to get this worked out before heading in. Before everyone saw her. He needed them to work it out. And ok, it was a bit selfish, but it wouldn’t be fair to the team.

She looked at herself in the mirror running her finger under her eyes wiping away stray makeup that wasn’t there. Tears stung at the corners. She wasn’t ready for this. She knew it was coming. New it was time. But she didn’t want it. She pinched her nose stopping the tears from flowing. Stupid handsome Newbie. Why wouldn’t he just let her stay in a hotel. She smoothed her dress and fixed the twisted sleeve of her cardigan.

Opening the bathroom door, she found him on the other side, fist up ready to knock and a fleeting look of surprise before he persisted. “Penelope,”

“We should really get going-”

His hands came to the door frame. “Penelope-“

"Luke, please move, we’re going to be late.”

"Stop running from this!”

“NO!” she shouted, almost hysterically. She shoved him out of the doorway, rushing past, snatching her purse and her coat she spun around a few times, unsure what to do. She didn’t have her car here, she could call a car. She sat on the arm of the sofa and pulled out her phone.

Luke emerged from the hall squatting in front of her “Chica.” It was small, quiet, pained. He took the phone from her hands, replacing it with his own, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“We need to talk. Before we get in there."

Tears were spilling down her cheeks, splashing onto their clasped hands. She shook her head. “Luke, I can’t. I don’t want to.” she whispered. “And I know. I know I’m not the only one who feels it. I know it’s not fair.” She forced herself to look at him, this man she loved and tried so hard not to love for so long. This man she loved even from twenty-two thousand miles away. “But I don’t want to break up.”

Luke rocked on his heels, taken aback. His hands slipped from hers, moving to her face. “…I don’t want to break up either. Is that what you thought i was trying to do?”

She pulled away, relieved and irritated at being so worked up so early. This man. “What do you think we need to talk means, Newbie?!

He laughed, "Just that, we need to talk…about what we plan on telling the team? If we plan on telling the team? Set ground rules for work? We have a lot to talk about...” He looked at his watch, “and just a half hour to do it. Shit. We do need to go, we can talk in the truck.” He stood up grabbing his things then stopped and turned around pulling her in, placing a soft kiss to her lips. “Penelope Garcia, I’ve never been more in love with anyone in my life.” he moved to her jaw, then her neck, burying his face and widening his stance. “We’re closer than we’ve been in two years, I wouldn’t try to break up with you now. And when this is done, if you want to go back to California, I’d be more than happy for us to continue on.”

He could feel her relax into him, her head falling to his before straightening up again. She patted his shoulders with both hands and pushed away. “None of that at work, the team won't be able to focus.” She fluffed her hair and walked away leaving him chuckling.

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ask #I wanted to make a funny one but I couldn't think of one

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sleepy-achilles · 1 year

Text

Hbtaker- Jealousy is a good look for some

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Taker was trying to get used to being human again. It wasn't that difficult with the most emotional man as a partner, it made it easier for him to understand emotions. There was just one emotion he's never been able to get a hold on. And that was something all versions of him struggled with, being human just made it more...violent.

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Takers head snaps up from his boots as shawns laugh echos through the lockeroom. He turns to see Shawn full on giggling, nose scrunched, eyes closed and hand rested on his stomach and the other against the shoulder of the one making him laugh. A kind of laugh only taker or the kliq could pull out of him. So, I guess that's why taker can justify his anger as he sees the man infront of Shawn isn't a kliq member. Takers jaw clenches at the look on the newbies face.

"I get it, he's really pretty! But can we focus please?" Kurt calls. "Shut it" Taker growls as he stands straight. "Oh god..here we go." Goldust huffs sitting down. "Its harmless Taker. Just Shawn making friends" goldust adds. Kurt looks to see the kid in question. "Ah, John Cena. Real punk if you ask me" Kurt scoffs. Goldust glares at him. "What?" Kurt asks. "I know who he is" Taker snaps, his fist clenching and unclenching. "Jealousy? Really my dear boy? You really think Shawn would run off with some youthful thing?" Goldust asks. "A youthful thing that strong? Yes, I do" Kurt huffs. Goldust swears takers eye twitches at that. Goldust just sighs and leans back. "Shawn isn't that way anymore. We all know that" goldust states.

Goldust also wants to strangle Shawn as he watches the blonde poke and prod at cenas arms and chest. "But he sure as hell doesn't make my life easier does he?" Goldust asks. Taker is seeing red. "Go ahead big guy, what can I even do?" Goldust asks. Goldust didn't mean it, but it's all Taker needed. "Taker! I was joking!" Goldust squeaks as Taker storms towards the two.

"Uh..what do we do?" Kurt asks. "Go find help." Goldust sighs pulling himself up and forcing Kurt to follow him.

"Oh hey ta-TAKER!" Shawn yells as John is slammed against the lockers. "Wow man! Chill! What's wrong?!" John gasps grabbing at takers wrists. Taker growls and lifts him higher. "Taker! Stop it!" Shawn yells grabbing at his bicep. Taker leans close. "Listen close boy, because I won't repeat myself." He murmurs. John nods frantically. "Taker please!" Shawn cries as he hits at takers back. "Stay away from what's mine. I don't share." Taker growls. John's eyes widen with realisation. "I-i would never Taker! I promise-it wasn't like that!" John tries. Taker tightens his grip around John's neck. "Dont make me repeat myself" he growls. "Taker!" Shawn yells. "Taker put him down" a new voice orders.

Shawn looks to see Kevin, hunter and vince with goldust and Kurt close behind. "I mean, choke the life out of him. Make my life easier." Hunter mutters. Kevin nudges him as he spots the tears building in shawns eyes. Hunter sighs and nods. Kevin walks over and grabs takers wrist. Takers eyes dart to him immediately. "Your scaring Shawn. I know you don't want that, so, let's put the kid down." Kevin tells him quietly. "You didnt see them" Taker grits. "Your right. I didn't. But I know Shawn. I also know you. Shawn isn't going to leave you for cena. We both know that. Shawn just doesn't know bonderies like me and you do." Kevin explains. "Your scaring him taker. Making him cry." Kevin murmurs, knowing it'll hurt taker to hear.

Kevin catches John as it works. He steadies John before letting him run off. Taker turns to shawn who's staring at him with the wettest blue eyes he's ever seen. "Im sorry.." Taker mutters lowering his head. "We said we'd talk when things upset us" Shawn hiccups. Taker closes his eyes. "I know..I..I just saw red and acted first." He whispers.

Taker flinches as a hand touches his cheek. He opens his eyes to see Shawn. "Apologise to him taker. Please." Shawn whispers before planting a kiss too his chest, right over his heart. Takers heart skips a few beats before he nods. He turns to see vince checking John over. "Im sorry. It not alright what I just did and well I just shouldn't of done it" Taker sighs. "Damn right you should-" "it's fine. I should of been more respectful" John cuts vince off with a smile. Taker flnches at how rough his voice is. "Ill forgive you if I'm still allowed to be friends with shawn and well, with you" John states. Taker stares at him confused.

"Me? You want to be friends with me?" Taker asks. Hunter raises an eyebrow. "If Shawn finds you cool and can see enough good in you to be in love than I reckon you'll be a great friend to make" John shrugs. "I just choked you out and threatened you." Taker points out. "Yeah and you'll get paid to do it aswell. It'll improve my acting in those situations." John smiles. Shawn holds takers hand. "Let us keep him..pleaseeee" Shawn pouts resting his chin against takers arm. Taker looks at shawn. His eyes still wet. "Fine. We can all be friends." Taker sighs. "Awesome!" John smiles. "Medic. Now. Undertaker, my office now." Vince orders. "Cmon, me and shawn will take you" goldust huffs.

Shawn shares a look with taker before giving him a peck. "We will talk emotions later." Shawn whispers. "Yessir" Taker mumbles as shawn let's him go.

Hunter pauses and looks at kevin. "How did you tame the undertaker?" Hunter asks. Kurt also looks at him. Kevin just smirks and taps the side of his nose.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #triple h #kevin nash #kurt angle #goldust #john cena #vince mcmahon

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aeoki · 9 months

Text

Seven Bridges - Hate Control: Chapter 6

Location: Yumenosaki Garden Terrace Characters: Tsukasa & Ritsu

TL Note:

For those who don’t know, “Anija” refers to Rei.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< At that time. Yumenosaki garden terrace. >

Ritsu: …………

Tsukasa: Ritsu-senpai.

So this is where you were. I’d like to ask both you and Narukami-senpai to not disappear before my eyes without my permission.

I have to look for and gather all the Members before we conduct our Lessons. Such is the evil “Knights” tradition.

Please Respond to the message on “Hallhands” at the very least.

Ritsu: What? Oh, I didn’t understand you with the way you pronounced “Hallhands”. I reported Anija[∗] as a “suspicious account” multiple times, but they didn’t remove him so I don’t trust the app anymore.

Besides, I don’t want to leave the newbies on read, so I haven’t even been charging my phone lately.

Tsukasa: It is a tool for work, so please make sure to check it regularly.

…I do understand how you feel, though. It appears the new members are left confused by our decision.

But it’s been decided that we won’t be taking part in the school’s “Tanabata Fest”, so it’ll only serve to annoy us if they send complaints.

Ritsu: What a tyrant~... Did you explain everything properly to them all?

Tsukasa: Yes. From what I’ve gathered, the proposal for the school’s “Tanabata Fest” is one that ignores the existence of the new members.

Therefore, we “Knights” will, to a certain extent, decide which Members will take part in ES’ Tanabata Event.

Meaning, we’ll be taking part in the event that places “Knights’” wishes into their consideration.

Ritsu: Yeah. But the timing is pretty bad…

The newbies all saw how Nacchan got super angry about the cenotaph thing after reading the “Tanabata Fest” proposal.

So they probably think Nacchan forced us to take part in a different event.

Tsukasa: That is one of the actual reasons, of course, so I won’t deny that it isn’t.

But the cenotaph issue weighs heavily on Narukami-senpai and not only is Narukami-senpai not interested in the “Tanabata Fest” event, but she also appears to abhor it.

If we forced such an individual to stand on stage, it wouldn’t result in our usual quality of Performance, would it?

It would also affect our relationship – It would only do harm, no good.

Narukami-senpai is the main backbone of “Knights”. She was much more of a leader than Leo-san or Sena-senpai was last year.

If Narukami-senpai wasn’t here, “Knights” would have fallen apart at some stage.

Tsukasa: I wanted to reward all her hard work by respecting her feelings! Is there anything wrong with that?

Ritsu: There’s nothing wrong with that under normal circumstances. Considering other people’s feelings is very important.

But what about from the perspective of a “King”?

Tsukasa: ………?

Ritsu: Suu-chan, it just looks to me like you’re being considerate of Nacchan – your subordinate – and changed the entire direction of “Knights”.

Tsukasa: Like I mentioned before, is there something wrong with that?

Ritsu: A “King” who moves the country on personal feelings is called a tyrant, Suu-chan.

Tsukasa: …………

Ritsu: And “Kings” who obediently follow what their subordinates say are, at the very least, called puppets.

None of them should be your ideal image of a “King”, right, Suu-chan?

Tsukasa: …What should I have done?

Ritsu: Don’t ask me. I’m horrible at dealing with people.

What I do know is the fact that there will be similar incidents like these in the future. And every time, you’ll be forced to make a decision.

What will you prioritise? In other words, what will you choose and what will you abandon?

I’m sure you want to walk forward without abandoning a single thing.

But, like this time, there will be a situation where you’ll have to abandon something no matter what path you choose.

ES and Yumenosaki – Which Tanabata event will you have us take part in? You chose the former by thinking about Nacchan and the newbies, right?

Tsukasa: The latter would have been an impossible choice. I’ll say it over and over, but it would only do harm, no good.

Ritsu: Do you really think so? The one who’s essentially controlling the dreamfests at Yumenosaki right now is the “Peace Party” in the “producer course”.

The school’s “Tanabata Fest” is something they submitted by using Anzu as their puppet.

We rejected their proposal. Naturally, the “Peace Party’s” impression of us would only sour. It might be harder for us to find work in the future.

And the “Tanabata Fest” proposal is progressing with Anzu’s name as the person responsible for it.

That event might turn out to be a disaster because we didn’t lend a hand.

In that case, Anzu’s skills as a “producer” would be questioned.

Maybe we could have saved Anzu and made the event a success if we helped.

See? It’s possible to live without abandoning something.

Tsukasa: …………

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#seven bridges

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richardsphere · 2 months

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Leverage Redemption Log: The Panamanian Monkey Job

Look i know we're going to Panama because of last episodes ending tease/it being a 2 parter. But can we just agree that sometimes the writers just pull words out of a hat and call it a title? --- Seriously that Location Establishment Font is horrible. The point of an establishing shot is to show the place we're at and that is the opposite of what your font is doing. --- Harry named-for-a-volleyball is returning to his old place of work to be a suitable distraction to let Leverage Inc slip by to steal his old client-list or something. (i think that the team is still "inc"and the big alliance of other teams working with/beneath them is International? feel free to correct me)

obligatory "evil lawyer joke" and we're scarcely a minute in. Parker making Neigh-noises as she removes the horse painting. 10/10. (Lola also gets a 10/10, it would be cool)

Oh the tax-evasion supervault has a brochure, how quaint. ominous mini-spydrone. (It's either introducing Hardisons understudy cause actor is busy, or actually spying? Im betting on its a fake-out) --- Ok the Panama City Courthouse is a phrase with words long enough that it forces the letters to get vertically smaller and make space between the words so we can actually us see between the letters. Which is a mercy, but unless we're about to spend half a season in LLanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch I do expect this font-styling to be a persistent nuisance. (apologies to the Welsh if there's a typo in there.) --- "blackouts, memory loss, deja vu" saw that punchline coming but its a classic.

just walk into the money laundering operation and start burning things. Simple and effective. Sophie seems to think she's getting too old for this, (think she might switch from frontline grifter to a more Nate-like organiser, carry on her husbands legacy sort of thing)

Elliot hears the drone.

Hardisons sister (read replacement) has a really dead stare...

"I teach every kid i meet how to do crime" That you do,

"one of us gets cover blown, they just kill us. But Harry, he reads like a fed. They'd torture him first. Gives us time to save him." You're not wrong Elliot, but you shouldnt say it. --- "I did not go through the trouble of making the only place in the world where its legal to store illegal property for you to cut corners". Time for a security exposition dump Basement has only 1 way in (elevator, or so he claims Parker is a Vent Enthuisiast) On site and off-site camera monitoring facilities (other in the Philipines) (could be a simple footage loop?) No drilling (seismic sensors, easy to trip=Boy Who Cried Wolf protocol. IE: Sheherezade Job.)

7/10 on the Tickle Yourself gag. Reduced to 4/10by the "dribble a football" (you can dribble a football, Handeggs are a bit tougher though) EDM festival next-door is a go-go. The monkey is the name and logo of a fake animal protection group that is faking outrage about a non-existent DJ playing a non-existent birthday party so they can be shamed by Sophie into playing at a non-existent benefit concert for an existent monkey. --- Creepy goons want to interogate Partyplanner Hackergirl whose name i have already forgotten (im bad at names allright,)

We're not busted, he's just asking why there is a sudden EDM rave nextdoor to his legal "illegal-things" storage. (understandable, bad form of the rest of the team to leave the newbie alone)

Turns out that Warcrimes George is a fan of "legally-not-Deadmouse". (why were we in Tokyo? Oh right *mimes headshot* great show) I have never liked an antagonist who was not meant to be sympathetic to this degree before. Ok so Deadmouse better show up or he's gonna face-shoot her.

--- Opioidrefugee is meeting in the park, guard negotiates him up to 8 million

Huh, the vault operator actually has an apparently semi-decent arguement for his own morality. (giving the tyrants a way to exit the stage into retirement means they have the option of peacefull retirement, and if even 1% of tyrants takes it, thats thousands of civilians not dying in civil wars as they cling to power.) like he's not a good person certainly, but you can argue a moral grey-ness in his business-operations there.

--- Harry sees Maxwell as he leaves... Hardison drills the roof, Breanna mans the phone. Elliot is in the vents (cause the elevator is broken)

Invisible lasers (thank god they're invisible for once) cause a throuple-fight with Hardison and Elliot.

turn of the lock turns the lasers off, and now Maxwell is pointing a gun at Parker.

--- neck-slap unconcious, Maxwell is in the vault... which is laced with explosives we're about to blow up. (making it seem like he blew up a vault full of every dictator and crooks secret stashes. Might be the evilest frame-up this show's ever done) "three of them have armies, one of them has Nukes" Well he's certainly right, that does sound like a "run for the rest of your lives" situation.

Hardison bought the theatre. Tearfull goodbye is imminent. Hardison claims that at least a dozen crews consider Parker a mom.

Sophie is officially out of retirement.

#Leverage redemption #leverage redemption season 1 #leverage #the Panamanian Monkey Job

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jeremy-ken-anderson · 1 year

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Normalcy as Positive

It’s possible, in certain fields, for feelings of being an outlier or a weirdo to make one feel like nobody can help with your problems or that seeking help will be met with criticism or shaming.

This means that it can be worthwhile for people in positions of high achievement in those fields to share stories of places where they struggled - the more inane and minor the better.

One of the most famous sermon-writers and general theological writers in the world gave a course on sermon-writing at CDSP (Central Divinity School of the Pacific) in Berkeley, and had a line that drew a laugh but also was described as “enormously helpful” by several of the attendees, that went along the lines of, “My writing process is generally that I’ll read the scriptures, read a few existing theses on the current cycle,

In Christianity they have a 3-year cycle where the gospels will be paired off with different sets of lessons, meaning that even a lazy pastor has to build up a 3-year stack of sermons before they start repeating old material verbatim.

outline my general plan for the sermon, write a few lines, have an existential crisis and wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life, take a walk and maybe have a shower,

Inspiration and clarity is so frequently discovered during showers that some ministers have taken to saying “The Holy Spirit lives in my shower” when discussing sermon-writing.

then sit down and force myself to write out the concepts I had from the outline, maybe question whether they hold together, sleep on it, and then come back and finish the next day.”

The present tense at the start of the description is really important. “My writing process is” tells us this isn’t something that she only did when she was a newbie with no experience. It’s not something that goes away with time, or with accolades. It is a valid writing process.

I saw this again in today’s programming class, with the class sharing various students’ coping mechanisms when they get stuck. Keep in mind that because this is a course, they’re vetting these for usefulness and validity. If the student, when asked, said they went and ate a bag of chocolate chips to soothe their nerves, that probably didn’t make it into the course.

But they did include the person who, being unfamiliar with the concepts of GUIs and Event Handlers, just made a copy of the program and messed with it. Just tried shit out and copy-pasted in example code and tried to confirm what did and didn’t compile and what did and didn’t do what she expected.

Being included in the videos for the course sends a clear message: This Is Valid Process. Certainly they would like you to learn the underlying principles of event handling and object-oriented programming, because those will give you better guesses as to why something could break in a certain way, which means faster debugging. But just as valuable to faster debugging and more performant code is experience, and when you just try shit out and see what makes things compile or fail, you are obtaining experience. Experience isn’t some unobtainable thing you have to wait for a job to get! You’re getting it whenever you do the exercises all the way through, when you do a coding weekend, when you slap together an app to try and solve one of your own problems or try to make a cute little game in Unity.

#programming

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mrsbrookemunson · 2 years

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I had an idea for Pietro Maximoff, maybe where like y/n is a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and she's with Clint (I don't mean romantically, I mean like on a mission) in that scene where he knocks Clint down and says "you didn't see that coming?" And when he's about to speed of he gets distracted by y/n and then Clint almost shoots him so he leaves but after that he can't stop thinking about y/n

(Not My Gif)

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x GN!Reader

Song: I Was Watching Age of Ultron When Writing This To Make It Accurate To The Movie. All Credit To Marvel For That.

Prompt: The Request.

Genre: Nothing Specific.

Warnings: Swearing (LaNgUaGe!), blood, injury, canon fighting, and graphics, weapons are used. Probably types, but it’s edited, so that’s me being dumb.

Word Count: 1756

A/N: I'm back and I'm worse than ever! I'm rusty... And I changed the request to make it the actual scene in AoU, but Clint and Y/N are partners.

| Requested | Obviously...

“Shit!” Tony cursed.

“Language!” Steve commented after he heard the swear word come through comms. “Jarvis, what’s the view from upstairs?”

“The central building is protected by some kind of energy shield,” Jarvis informed. “Strucker’s technology is well beyond any other Hydra base we’ve taken.”

“Loki’s scepter must be here,” Thor chimed. “Strucker couldn’t mount this defense without it.” His hammer hit an attacker behind him, “At long last.” Before effortlessly flying right back into his hand.

“‘At long last’ is lasting a little long, boys,” Natasha checked in.

“You know I agree,” you said, knocking down one of the guys, the next one that attempted its attack getting hit with an arrow you shot–not to mention perfectly.

“Yeah. I think we lost the element of surprise,” Clint replied.

“You think?” You responded in a taunting tone.

“Wait a second. No one else is gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said “Language”?”

“I know,” Steve whined.

You laughed loudly, “Hey! Give the old man a break, he’s from ancient times, you know?”

Steve sighed, “Just slipped out.”

You let out another chuckle at his sound of defeat. “Oi!” You whistled loudly enough for Clint to hear from several feet away.

Once he noticed you, he jogged down. “You doing okay out there?”

“Look, I know I might be a newbie to S.H.I.E.L.D and all, but I got this—” You get cut off by a bullet barely missing you.

Clint raised his bow and shot the person. “You were saying?” He let his arms drop by his sides.

You huffed. “I’m not a child,” you claimed.

More bullets began to shoot at the two of you. “I got these ones if you got those ones.”

You nodded. “On it!” You ran off.

“And hey!” he paused to swiftly kick at someone, fighting the members of Hydra. “We’re a team!” he shouted.

“I know!” You punched a guy. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you whispered to yourself.

You were fighting the last guy when he pulled out a small knife (~My Weakness~) You struggled against his strong force as he tried to stab it into your stomach. Fortunately, you won, unfortunately— "Fuck!" You swore when you saw the knife sticking out from your thigh. The guy you were previously fighting fell to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his torso. You turned around only to see Clint gone.

“Wha—” You heard explosions off in the distance.

You limped off in that direction, your eyes searching for your partner.

“Clint?!” you called out.

Nothing.

You closed your eyes for a beat and… there.

You heard the sound of an arrow sweeping through the crisp air. You pointed in that direction and followed the invisible line you drew. Suddenly you see a blue blur run past Clint. It knocked him up into the air. Clint groaned in pain once hit the ground. You were about to go help him when the blue blur became a person.

Tall with ivory skin, and platinum, almost silvery, blonde hair.

You heard the muffled voice say, “You didn’t see that coming?” His accent was evident.

You raised up your bow and shot an arrow, quickly, only to have the man catch it before it could even get close to hitting him, and he somehow ended up right in front of you.

You stumbled a step back and the pain sent a wave of nausea over you.

You didn’t expect him to freeze at the sight of you, considering how fast and cocky he was just moments earlier. He seemed at a loss for words. His eyes averted down to the leg that had the knife poking out, blood trickling down your calf and staining your suit. His gaze jerkily bounced back up to your fearful expression.

You fought the urge to stare at the blue of his eyes. They were striking and the snow made them glisten even more than you guessed they normally do. But, you were scared. Not that you would try to show it, nonetheless you did, and of course he noticed. Maybe Clint was right all those times he said that you weren’t ready. Was he right? That’s a first.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” the man assured. “I’m Pietro.” He reached out for you and you found yourself allowing it.

Clint recovered hastily at the sight of you injured and this man–Pietro–about to grab you. He jumped onto his feet and shot an arrow, and for the first time in the last five minutes, it nearly hit the man. Pietro jumped out of the way, it would’ve hit you if he hadn’t caught it.

“You’re welcome,” Pietro said, jokingly. He sprinted off in a blue blur.

“Y/N!” Clint jogged to you, out of breath. Just then a bullet shot right where Clint was standing prior to the current moment. He glimpsed behind then turned his attention back to you. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing to your leg.

“What do you think?” you bickered, distractedly. “I got stabbed.” You seethed. “Who was that?!”

Clint propped one of your arms up and around his shoulders. “I have no idea.”

“He told me his name,” you confessed.

“Oh, really?” Clint sounded uninterested.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

“You do that.”

Clint’s words cued the darkness to surround you, drown you, bury you into a peaceful sleep.

“We have an enhancement in the field,” Steve reported.

“Y/N’s been injured,” Clint revealed. “They just lost consciousness.”

Natasha–not wasting another moment–came over to you and Clint. “Somebody want to deal with that bunker?”

Summoned, the Hulk destroyed the bunker that continuously kept shooting with a loud and aggressive roar.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She grabbed you and laid you down. She tried desperately to do whatever she could to patch you up and get you awake again.

“Stark, we really need to get inside,” Steve spoke.

“I’m closing in.”

“How’re they looking?” Clint asked.

Natasha sighed. “They’re looking like they’re not about to wake up anytime soon.”

“Jarvis, am I closing in?” Tony furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Do you see a power source for that shield?”

“There’s a particle-wave below the north tower,” Jarvis stated.

“Great, I want to poke it with something.” He blasted the shield down. “The drawbridge is down, people.”

Steve retrieved his shield as Thor knocked down the rest of the Hydra members in his proximity. “The enhanced?” he questioned.

“He’s a blur,” Steve answered. “All the new players we’ve faced, I’ve never seen this. In fact, I still haven’t,” he paused. “How’s Y/N doing?”

“Unresponsive,” Natasha reported back. “We’re gonna need evac.”

“I can get Y/L/N to the jet,” Thor affirmed. “The sooner we’re gone, the better.” He turned to Steve. “You and Stark secure the scepter.”

“Copy that.”

Thor tilted his head towards the new batch of Hydra members. “Looks like they’re lining up,” he observed.

“Well, they’re excited,” Steve guessed and lifted up his shield.

Thor slammed his hammer against it creating a shock of lightning to strike the line. “Find the scepter,” Thor ordered and flew away with his hammer.

“And for gosh sake, watch your language!” Stark ridiculed.

Steve sighed, exhausted. “That’s not going away any time soon,” he told himself.

Wanda glared at Pietro when she saw him again. “I got that Captain America,” she informed. “But, I think he took down Strucker.”

“I took down two of their people out there,” he bragged in a scoff. “And they said we weren’t ready.”

“Who’s the person then?”

Pietro’s breath hitched in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can read your mind, Pietro.”

“I thought we set boundaries about that,” he argued. “And why should it matter? They’re just a person that was injured and I–I was worried.”

“They’re not one of us is the—” Wanda’s posture straightened. “Iron Man,” she whispered. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Pietro’s hand and guided him to where the scepter lay.

“Thor… I got eyes on the prize,” Tony said, nonchalantly walking up to the scepter.

Wanda appeared behind him and waved her hands around his head, a red spark of her magic entered his brain and clouded over his eyes.

And there she saw it. His worst fears in real life. All the Avengers are dead around him. The what if’s of their first battle. What if he didn’t save them? What if he didn’t do more? Why didn’t he do more? He saw a hole in reality and watched over the planet for only a millisecond. He woke up from the state, and Wanda gaped at the remembrance of the sight she just witnessed.

Pietro’s blur stopped right beside her about to go stop Tony, but she put a hand out in front of him. “Where did you go?” she asked.

“I wanted to go see something.”

“You wanted to see if you could find them.” She looked slightly up at him.

He gave her a look of confusion, a puzzled expression, and a little irritation. “We’re just gonna let him take it?” He changed the subject.

Wanda didn’t answer and instead slowly smiled.

They both watched as Tony raised his hand up, the glove of his suit attaching to his body. He walked around to the other side of the table and grabbed the scepter dramatically.

“They made them evacuate… by the way.” She shrugged and analyzed her twin brother’s face for any sign of emotion toward her words. “Stab wound. One of our people. Lost consciousness, and is unresponsible, but they'll be fine…”

“They will?”

Wanda gave him a look of amusement. “And you're the one who's so consistent in stopping Iron Man right now from taking the scepter, whilst you can’t even get your mind off of one of their people.” She chuckled, quietly. “Who knew you were such a softy…”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Let’s get out of here before he sees us,” Wanda suggested.

“So, we’re really letting him take it?”

“I know you like to do things fast, Pietro, but these things take patience, do you understand? Or are you too caught up on how ‘beautiful’ the person you saw was?”

With that Pietro sprinted away without another word spoken.

Wanda, before she followed, looked back at Tony with another smile, but instead a more sympathetic smile.

Both twins conflicted with their own inner battles.

Wanda with her feelings towards the Avengers.

And Pietro with his feelings towards a person that's in the Avengers

Tell Me If You Want To Be Added To The Pietro Maximoff "Quicksilver" Taglist By Either Commenting, Asking, Or Messaging Me.

|Requests are Open, Message, Comment, or (preferably) Ask you Requests |

xXTheBrookeLupinXx

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

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“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch. “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can. I know you can. Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me. Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred. “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you? Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded. “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer. You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients. Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ. There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago. Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality. But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain. And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place. It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often. It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again. He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him. “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall. “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided. You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch. After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled. “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on. You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment. This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in. I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that. The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages. You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted. Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James? Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards. But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically. For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh! Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly. “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically. “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again. “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school? Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once. You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh? So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you. “But you’re really not. You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you. “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right? Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself. And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number. “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced. “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about. Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad. Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet. “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly. “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right? Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before. “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead. “Do you want me to hit you again? Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive. His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls. “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you. He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder. And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout. “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised. “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin. “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft. It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you. “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him. “Can I keep going? Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive. And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back. But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little. "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly. "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently. "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more. You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James? So you could show me how good you can be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day. Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked. “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now? You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed. “You don’t deserve anything from me, James. You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean. Kept him on his toes, apparently. Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right. “I know!” he cried. “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you. I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much. Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me. Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you. I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it. Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all. But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you? It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you. And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother. “All mine, huh? My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip. Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up. You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you? You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind. It’s useless. I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut. “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit. But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed. “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them. His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger. Was that even possible? Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked. “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself. It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well. Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided. “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes. “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is. You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly. “N-no, please—”

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you. Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act. Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous. You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest. So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now. “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you. You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that. I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you. And for a second, you knew you’d let him. It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal. It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly. “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned. “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right? That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me. Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to. “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come. I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets. And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it. So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel. You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected. “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se. When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated. But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that. “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched? Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed. Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed. Prideful, even. You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin. He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know. It’s so unfair, isn’t it? Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away. “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, don’t— don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly. "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly. "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach. You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy. "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you. "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince. “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock. “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly. “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away?

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him. It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive. A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact. Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up. Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg. You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear. Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully. Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close. You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit. You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw. “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair. “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that. He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin. The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra. Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately. “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut. Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well). He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent. “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe. Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled. “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away. “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him. "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet.

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

#sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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dear-ao3 · 3 years

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According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks!

Youguys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey

sticks,dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All

right,here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no!

You'redating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be

lunch formy iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former

queenshere in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see

how,by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but

thereare other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your

smokinggun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out

likethis. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But

isn'the your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see

anickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

- bee movie anon

#if i had to see this all you fuckers do to #not a tag #from saph #im not having a good morning and this made me cry thanks for that #the bee movie #long post

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

#tw:noncon #bakugo x you #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bakugo katsuki #mha #bnha #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo smut #katsuki smut #katsuki x y/n #katsuki scenario #mha yandere #bnha yandere

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