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#klaue
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I finally managed to take some time to make a few Spooky Season moodboards for Klaue!
Werewolf!Klaue
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Demon/Hades!Klaue
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Hades & Persephone
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antvnger · 3 months
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ULTRON     –Now thou art as well. ‘Tis found in dummy holdings thou possess’st– Is not the world of finance passing strange? Yet as I say, “Keep all your friends most rich, and keep thine enemies most rich as well, then find out which is which when both are rich.”
KLAUE       Stark.
ULTRON              – What?
KLAUE                            – ‘Twas once a phrase of Tony Stark the axiom that falleth from thy mouth. Quoth he those words to me a hundred times– though art of him.
ULTRON                      
– False brigand, I am none! [Ultron grabs Klaue. Think’st thou I am a puppet held by Stark, with strings hung fast, sans mine own will to move, a hollow fellow fashion’d for control? Look thou on me – seem I like Iron Man? [Ultron angrily strikes Klaue, severing his arm in twain. Nay, Stark is naught! Alas, apologies, that shall be fine, I’m certain. Sorry, sirrah. ‘Tis simply that I do not understand– I would not be compar’d with Tony Stark. [Ultron strikes Klaue again, knocking him down. Stark is a parasite, an illness he!
ENTER TONY STARK, STEVE ROGERS, AND THOR
STARK        Imprudent junior mine, thou soon shalt break thine old man’s heart.
ULTRON – Yea, if I must, I shall
ENTER NATASHA ROMANOFF AND CLINT BARTON IN HIDING.
THOR       There shall be none of breaking, verily.
ULTRON     You never made an omelet, it is plain.
STARK        I would have said the same, one second hence.
PIETRO      Yea, Ultron hath a quick and pleasant wit. O Master Stark, are thou most comfortable? ‘Tis like old times, with all thy missiles here.
STARK        In no way, knave—this never was my life.
ROGERS    [to the Maximoffs:] You two may still decide to walk away.
WANDA      We will, thou varlet.
[Ultron laughs.
ULTRON –Cap’n America, the righteous man of God, from heaven come, pretending you could live without a war. My body physical doth not allow my gorge to rise and vomit to erupt within my mouth, yet truly, if it did—
THOR          If thou believ’st in peace, then let us keep’t.
ULTRON     You are confusing peace with quiet, Thor.
STARK         I prithee, why dost need vibranium?
ULTRON      How wonderful you happen’d thus to ask, for long have I awaited the occasion to bare mine evil plan before your eyes.
The Bard's Avengers
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mdmcduff · 1 year
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Watching Black Panther today and Andy Serkis just fought Chadwick Boseman and is so proud of himself and I’m over here like bro you gotta go learn to swim ☹️😭
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tarrenterror25 · 1 year
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It’s my headcanon that the guys who had to strap our big boy to the chair just added the duct tape for good measure because of how swole he is 😂
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Now, I know it could be “Well they figured they need to tie him down because the other arm would keep him in place and he doesn’t have it”, but they handcuffed his ONLY hand AND cuffed his ankles, in a very extra fashion I might add, so a normal person might think he’s not going anywhere. Like he’s not some goddamn Houdini and he doesn’t have any crazy abilities.
But they dragged his ass in and probably sat back, looked at the handcuffs, and said “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna be enough” and strapped his fucking chest to the chair with duct tape.
And then they saw him go from
this
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TO THIS
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It’s done so crudely and looks so last minute that I bet they saw him lunge and were in the back SWEATING thinking about what if they HADN’T added the tape because Ross sat his ass back Q U I C K.
Agent A: “We don’t need it, huh? It’ll be fine, huh?!” Agent B: *eyes forward and silent pretending he didn’t see what just happened*
In conclusion: this the type of boy SZA was singing about 😏
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tobiasdrake · 1 year
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Black Panther vs. Klaue
For his part, Klaue is a delight. We've been waiting to see him in action since Age of Ultron, and Black Panther is still misguiding us into thinking this guy's going to be the big villain of the film.
But that is a misdirection. They've done good work with it, playing up Klaue as the experienced professional during the museum heist, with Killmonger played off as a client or underling. But the first act is as far as he goes, which means this fight is all he's going to get.
And he delivers with everything he's got. Armed with his new energy cannon, Klaue is having a ball. He's so upbeat and excited about everything he does. Klaue taking a moment to shriek about how cool it was when he shot T'Challa is a thrill to watch. He's so happy, it's infectious.
And for his part, T'Challa is cool, powerful, and relentless. But this fight isn't really about him. We already know what he can do. We've seen it. Multiple times, if you watched Civil War.
This fight is about the women who work hard to support him. It's Okoye and Shuri's time to shine. As well as Nakia, who is a bit more limited in what she can contribute but still hangs in and brings her A-game all the same.
T'Challa covers well-tread ground, but this fight gives Okoye, Nakia, and Shuri a chance to demonstrate what they are capable of. It lets them show off how formidable each of them can be, in their own different ways. It demonstrates how the Black Panther is more than a man in a suit. He is the sum of the contributions made by many people working together.
Not just a superhero, but a king carried on the shoulders of his family and his people.
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corvlin · 1 year
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It's Klaue! My ICON character! A little Xixo Knave that can pick you up and toss you like a couple of grapes.
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hjbirthdaywishes · 1 year
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April 20, 2023
Happy 59 Birthday to Andy Serkis. 
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thingsasbarcodes · 6 months
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Black Panther (2018)
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arealtrashact · 7 months
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Fearful symmetry
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minilev · 15 days
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eupheme · 1 month
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— fold into me
ulysses klaue x f!reader
rated e - 2k
tags: sleepy morning sex, nightmares, pinning down / body restraint, light d/s, fucking the thoughts from reader, teasing, edging, sort-of v. light degradation, PiV, vibrating appendages, oral fixation, implied creampie(s)
a/n: inspired by this post, I read it and had crush me thoughts
Klaue doesn’t want you to worry. In fact - when you’re in his bed, he doesn’t want you thinking at all.
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Klaue can hear you worry.
It settles over him, a silent weight as heavy as the gaze that drags over his profile in the soft, early morning.
You shouldn’t be awake. Not yet.
A rare day off, the promises of a day spent together. A nightmare waking you in the early hours instead - leaving you crying out as he’s ripped away by hands that clawed at him. Twining around his legs, threatening to pull him under - into the black depths, while you still reached for him.
They always seem to the come in the days just before he leaves. You can’t help the pit of worry that forms in your stomach - the fingers that rest against his ribs curling into fists, as you resist the urge to reach out and touch.
Craving the reassurance. To confirm that he is still here. That it was just a dream.
You were aware what you were getting into when you first started seeing him. There were secrets of course, but never about what he was. Your world orbited his, never fully joining, but you knew.
The stories and the whispered weight of his name. The deals and the fights and the danger. A twist of tattoos that dip beneath his clothes. The fresh and faded scars, and an arm made from metal.
That he was a bad man.
But never to you.
Your eyes drag over the angle of his nose. Past a strong jaw, the stubble darkening his cheekbones, to be scraped clean when he rises. To the thick fan of dark eyelashes against his cheeks.
And then a sharp glint of blue, as one eye cracks open.
“Should be sleeping,” He rumbles - the thunder before a storm.
Your reply is on the tip of your tongue before he is striking - quick, in spite of the breadth of his chest and shoulders. All you manage is a little squeak before he’s rolling you beneath him.
His weight presses into you - chest, hips, thighs. Pinning you to the bed as you squirm, an arm shoving under the curve of your spine. The other tucking under the pillow, as his cheek scrubs against yours.
“Klaue,” You protest, “I was just-”
“Don’t want you thinking,” His voice is low and rasping with sleep.
You huff, still shifting. But the weight - you have to admit it is nice. Crushing you into the mattress, a silent command to slow down and stop, for just a moment.
And so, you go still.
Taking in the moment. Seeing if sleep will tug at you again. Your hands slipping from beneath to slide up on either side of his ribs. Fingers folding together on his back in an embrace, the slow cadence of his breath warm against your ear.
It is soothing, but you’re too wound up. A skittering beneath your skin. Eyes fixed on the ceiling above - afraid that if they close, if you do sleep, you might dream again.
Your fingers eventually start to trace against skin, and he sighs at your touch. Nails dragging down his spine, the tips working into stiff muscles.
Only to freeze when you press too-hard into something tender - a hidden, half-healed wound - hearing the sharp intake of air through teeth.
The worry slips right back in.
He clucks his tongue at you. Don’t, you’re sure he’s saying. There’s a drag of his face against yours, bristle over soft skin, before it dips lower.
Warm lips press against the pulse point of your throat, the cant of his hips downward. It is now that you feel him - the thick curve pressed into the hinge of your bare thigh - that you squirm for another reason.
It’s difficult, with your legs pinned together, trapped between his parted ones. The hand between his shoulder slipping down and beneath sheets - flattening in the dip of his spine. The weight of his hard cock increasing, where it digs into bare skin, leaving a wet smear behind.
“Klaue.” You sigh his name this time, trying to lift your body against his. Hips to hip, the curves of your skin matching his. Gripping on now, instead of trying to slip free.
You crave him, and he rewards you. Splitting your thighs, his own working between them. Twining his ankles with yours, so much like the grasping hands from your dreams.
Theres another troubled flicker in your mind, before his legs are shifting. Slowly spreading them wide, taking yours along with them.
Opening you up, baring where you’re sticky and slick from the night before. From now - the press of his mouth and his words and his weight, as the need blooms in your belly again.
Your nose brushes his temple, in your search for him. Fingers twisting into thick, greying curls, trying to draw his face to yours.
A low hum of amusement, before he meets you. It’s hungry, your hands moving to wrap around his shoulder. Whining into his mouth when his hips lift and roll, his cock slipping down to press snugly against your cunt.
You swear you can feel every inch and ridge of him, as you clench in anticipation. Eyes closed as you concentrate on the sparks that arc up your spine with each needy buck of your hips.
How each time makes the velvet skin more slick, until he’s glistening with you. Nudging against your clit, teasing at your opening.
“This what you want?” Klaue’s lips brush yours. His voice still slow and smooth, content to wait. Letting you rut against him, as your teeth nip at his jaw.
You moan your assent, breathless. The weight of him presses against your ribs, leaving you dizzy. Another low laugh as he reaches between you, a fist wrapping around the base. Holding himself steady, the flushed head just nudging at where you need him.
“Come on, then.” He rasps.
And then, he goes still.
Leaving you wanting. Squirming again, as your eyes flip up to his. Seeing the darkened amusement, the careful way Klaue watches you. Fully awake now, but still keeping you pinned so carefully.
A living sculpture carved from flesh and muscle. Undeterred by the promise of your warm cunt, by the needy press of your lips against his skin and the thick weight of anticipation.
He wants you to do it.
You realize that, as he waits. It’s hard to move, with the spread pull of your thighs, pinned as you are. Hands bracing on his shoulders - trying to push yourself down, to impale yourself on him.
It makes you take him slow. Nails digging into his skin as he nudges a little deeper with each rock of your hips.
Leaving it impossible to think of anything else but him, as he splits you open. As you ache to be filled, already clenching down around him, trying to draw him deeper.
His breathing is harsh through his nose. Warm against your skin, the brush of his knuckles across your belly and breasts and tight peaks of your nipples on their way back up. Elbows and forearms planting in the mattress on either side of you, just barely adjusting his weight.
Each thrust of your hips is shallow. He’s not fully seated in you, only what you’ve managed to work inside so far.
It teases at what you want. What you need. Your initial spike pleasure quickly plateauing with the minutes that pass - the grind of your hips not nearly enough.
Leaving you teetering on the edge - your desperation dripping down his cock, sticky on your inner thighs.
“Please,” You try to whine, your face pressed into his neck. Mouthing at the brand, teeth scraping where shoulder meets neck.
The word become disconnected between your thoughts and your lips. Half gasped and half sighed, lost in the muted buzz of the city awakening outside.
“Are you still worrying?” He asks, his pulse fluttering against your lips. Betraying him, revealing that he’s not nearly as unaffected as he’s been pretending.
Hitching his hips forward, sinking deeper. Again your answer is more sound than words, drawn from deep in your chest.
“Oh,” He sighs, with that grin. Pulling back to let his nose brush against yours, seeing how gone you are, “You’re not thinking about anything at all, are you?”
Your thighs flex, brow pinching as he suddenly hilts himself. A gasp ripping from you at the way he fills you, your pussy making room for his thick girth. The heavy weight of his sack resting against the curve of your ass, coarse hairs already sticky.
“Oh, fuck. Good girl.” Klaue’s teeth clench, feeling how you wrap so perfectly around him. How you arch against his chest, panting as you adjust.
His voice dropping lower, with a smooth roll of his hips, “You listened so well, so I’ll give you what you need.”
And he does, the shallow thrusts you’ve managed turning into the rutting of his hips. Skin slapping against skin as the curves of his cock drag along your inner walls.
Pushing himself higher on his arms until you’re chanting his name, the fat head stroking against the soft, spongey spot that brings in the night again, making you see stars.
Your groan is guttural, eyes slipping shut again. No longer tethered to the bed, now somewhere far beyond - solely focused on the snap of his hips, the burn of pleasure with each plunge of his cock. Muscles already stringing tight, toes curling in blissful anticipation.
Missing his sharp smile in the early light, all white and shining gold. How he moves then, bracing himself again on a tattooed arm as the other slips downward.
The tips of his fingers whir - just barely activating the mechanisms inside. Pressing them cruelly against your clit, pinching the tight bud between two of them.
It’s too much - steady pulse of the vibration, the sharp punch of his cock. All-encompassing, until your mind is truly blank. The mindless grinding of your hips against his, chasing his fingers, the high that you can almost reach. Each breath shorter, everything winding tighter and tighter, and then -
With a ragged cry, you feel yourself shatter in his arms.
Your vision goes white and hazy as the edges, his name broken as you sob it. A different kind of wave crashes over you, the ripples flowing down your limbs, from your molten core.
His words muted, but you collect what you can. Growled endearments that slip between bared teeth.
“That’s it, sweetheart.”
“Look at you, so fucking good for me.”
It’s bliss, this frozen moment in time.
You’re boneless, when he finally slips his legs free, hitching your thighs around his hips. Pleasure-drunk on the ambrosia that glitters in your veins, his hand lifting from between your thighs to pinch at your chin.
His thumb smearing across your bottom lip, eyes darkening as you part them automatically. Tongue dipping out to taste yourself, a sweet tang against his skin.
“There you go.” Klaue coos, seeing the dazed look as your lips close around and suck.
His own end not far off, with the warm grip of your cunt and mouth - the broken echo of his name ringing in his ears.
Knowing for certain that he has you thoroughly distracted. Starting a slow pace as he grins, an idea forming. Your eyes fluttering - threatening to roll shut again when his hand slips free, your lips parting with a sigh.
His hips pulling back - easing his cock out just enough to circle his thumb and finger around the base.
The vibrations start again as he drives himself deep, traveling down his shaft. Pulsing inside you, nudging against that spot again, as your eyes snap open with a sharp cry.
If he can hold off just a little bit longer - he thinks - he’s certain to coax out another.
Because when it comes to you, he’s nothing if not thorough.
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This time, when he relaxes - his weight settling over you, a warm and welcome blanket - you find that your mind has gone blissfully silent.
Content to fold yourself into him. Arms wrapping around, head tilting to rest against his. Mimicking without thought the easy rise and all of his breaths, your quickened pulse slowly following.
He murmurs something soft and low, though you’re already gone.
Off to a sleep that, for both of you, comes easy.
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He vibrated the glass, and it vibrated my - *gunshot*
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notrandtumblin · 5 months
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This is part 3 of this daunting task I’ve undertaken of using statistics and tumblr pals to find out who the best casting choice of the marvel universe is.
This poll contains many of Phase 3’s characters. On my page are polls for Phase 1 and 2. I will continue to do this until we’ve exhausted the MCU. I will then move on to Fox and Sony Marvel properties plus any MCU ones I may have forgotten.
Stick around and help me conduct this entirely pointless science experiment that has no bearing on nearly anything in my life.
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[ Part One ] - [ Part Two ] - [ Part Three ] - [ Part Four ] [ Part Five ] - [ Part Six ] - [ Part Seven ] - [ Part Eight ]
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tarrenterror25 · 1 year
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Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 1 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 4.8K
Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?
Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, sending lewds, PiV, rough sex, hair-pulling, daddy-kink, praise, spanking, quickie, blowjob
Playlist here (May contain explicit material)
Notes: Ahh, it’s here. I once again have to keep from over editing so this is where I stop myself. I apologize if this isn’t your cup of tea, I tried to write it for anyone to enjoy, but it is also still my work so there’s that. Sorry if it’s like overtly lovey dovey, I’m a sucker for romance. I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!
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Chapter One: As We Are
Ulysses Klaue sat at his desk with a heavy sigh. In front of him, numbers flick across computer monitors and downstairs beyond the glass of the office, the crew of the Churchill can be heard bustling about.
Klaue’s cell rings. With an annoyed groan he digs it out of his pocket and answers it. It’s just a standard business call. When he’s done, he tosses it down onto the desk. He takes a candy from the pewter dish nearby and pops the sweet into his mouth when he hears the phone ring again.
He furrows his brow. The source of the ring is not the satellite phone nor the one he just tossed down.
Klaue pats himself down and searches his pockets.
He retrieves another cell.
It’s a bit nicer than the other, but still a brick because he’s clumsy and glass screens wouldn’t survive the conditions of the Churchill very well.
The notification screen shows new messages: image attachments.
A grin spreads across his face when he eyes the number of the sender.
Klaue leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk. He opens up the messages and lets out a long whistle.
Some very sultry images materialize; a woman with a fluffy robe draped across her figure only allowing a peek at some lingerie and leaving the rest to the imagination. There’s other images as well; a couple of flirtatious selfies and a couple of her in different outfits. He licks his lips looking at them, thinking about what could be waiting on the other end of the phone. He’s so focused on the pictures he doesn’t notice anyone else enter his office.
“Boss.”
Klaue quickly backs out of the message thread and his phone jumps out of his hand at being startled as he sits up. It fumbles in his hands for a bit before he manages to catch the damn thing. “What?” Klaue snaps looking to his right hand man who just rudely interrupted him.
“Sorry,” his mercenary replies. “But the plane is ready.”
Klaue grins as he stands. “What are we still doing here, then? Let’s go.”
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You roll over in bed and pull the blanket close around you. Your fingers fidget with the edge of the covers. There’s a stuffed bear beside you that you pull close to your chest. You switch to running your fingers through its fluffy exterior before you cave and check your phone for what feels like the millionth time since you sent the photos almost two days ago.
Nothing.
It wasn’t like Klaue to ignore you. Maybe he was just really busy or maybe something happened. Something bad? Maybe..
“Nope,” you say as you sit up. “Can’t think like that. He’ll answer soon.”
He’ll answer soon.
You had been telling yourself that more times than you could count, but with no word from him, every day made you feel further away from him than the last.
You throw on some cozy pajamas and navigate your way through your luxury city view apartment to the kitchen. Armed with a spoon and a bowl, you serve yourself some cereal. You go over to your cereal dispenser and watch the sugary fruit shapes spill out into your bowl.
You and Ulysses Klaue had an arrangement like all the other men before him, but one by one you found yourself turning away all the other the more time you spent with Ulysses.
What started as just great sex and being showered with gifts, turned into you developing feelings that you were trying to keep from surfacing.
The money was great, the clothes were designer, the jewels were dazzling, but there was one day that he left you with your gifts and you realized that the thing you truly wanted had already walked out the door.
Ulysses Klaue wasn’t just another one of your flings. The two of you made memories together, memories you now cherished. He made you realize that a life with someone could exist...and you wanted yours to exist with him.
“Shit,” you say as you see the cereal overflowing from the bowl. You shut the dispenser and clean up the pieces with a sigh.
After you add milk to the bowl, you seat yourself on your plush white couch and turn on the TV. You try to steer your mind from Ulysses or “Uri” as you had taken to calling him.
“Uri?” Klaue asked from where he rested his head in your lap. “Uly would make more sense wouldn’t it? Wait, never mind, I don’t like the sound of it.”
“Uri is close enough,” you said as you stroke his face. “It means “My light or my flame”.”
“Really?” he said. “I’ll take that one then.”
He puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close to kiss you.
You check your phone again and still nothing. An ache settles into the pit of your stomach as intrusive thoughts invade your mind. You know what he does and it scares you. An arms dealer and during these times? The world had seen the likes of all sorts of beings from space and beyond. Who was to know what was to come?
The television is on a news channel discussing the unimaginable things Earth has seen since the inception of the Avengers. You change the channel.
Admitting the feelings to yourself made everything worse. You knew you loved him and knew that any day could be the last you hear from him and that scared you, terrified you. All you want is to run away with Ulysses, to start over, to just have each other.
A talk show plays discussing the whole aliens from the sky. You change the channel again.
“Tonight it’s “Gods Among Us”. Where do they-”. Click.
“Captain America’s time in ice. Exclusive look into what really happened-” Click.
”Superhumans, are there any more out there, Tom?” “We saw this Winter Soldier come out of the woodwork, who’s to say-” Click.
“The US government is still looking into the acquisition of Stark Industries. Many officials still believe he is the root of nearly 80% of Earth’s recent disasters.” “Of course he is! Look at his track record: this Whiplash character, the Mandarin terrorist, and his crew of freaks who brought aliens. It all leads back to him!” “But some of these threats were existing regardless of Stark’s involvement. I can sleep better knowing we have someone like Dr. Banner-” Click click.
A woman speak over a video of the Earth from space, rotating in the black of space. “Who know what else there is...we used to think we knew where we fit into the grand scheme, but now...it’s anyone’s game.”
CLICK.
Your phone pings and you quickly set down your bowl on the coffee table and open the message. It’s from Klaue.
Your heart swells as you read it and you find yourself smiling. He’s texted you the details of when he’ll arrive in your city. Then your phone rings. A selfie of the two of you pops up on your screen along with “Uri” as the contact name. You answer.
“Uri?” you say trying to mask your excitement.
“Missing me, sweetheart?” he says with a chuckle.
“Always” you reply, your face blushing.
"Me too,” he says.
There’s the faint sound of people bustling about in the background and you hear Klaue giving orders to someone.
“Sweetheart?” he says.
“I’m still here,” you reply.
“Should make it to you before sundown tomorrow,” he says. “Think you can wait that long?”
You bite your lip. “I’ll do my best.”
“See you soon.”
He hangs up.
You squeal and leap off the couch. You do a little victory dance before realizing that you have so much to do before he arrives.
Being paid for your time and company, you never really went out of your way to do much for your suitors, but Ulysses was different. You surprised him with clothes picked out just for him, lit candles with his favorite scents, cooked his favorite meals even if it took you a few tries to learn. You had started to find yourself wanting to make him happy, wanting to please him. You ended up forgetting about looking forward to whatever lavish gifts he was bringing and instead began to focus on just making him happy.
You get as much prepped as you are able before you decide it’s time to hit the hay. You can’t let the manic cleaning and preparing get to you, you need to rest.
You don’t sleep right away; you scroll through the pictures you’ve taken of you and Klaue; some very playful and silly selfies, a picture of Klaue after you shoved an ice cream in his face leaving a bit on his nose, and one he took of you with ice cream covering your entire face and him smiling.
When you do fall asleep, you phone slips from your hand.
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You wake up feeling very groggy. You’re not sure what time you ended up falling asleep, but you know it must have been quite late.
Why didn’t your alarm wake you?
You now make out the faint melody of your phone ringing from...somewhere.
The clock on your nightstand tells you that you’ve slept in. A lot.
“Oh shit,” you say as you try to untangle the blankets from your person.
You hear your phone ring again and try to rise from bed only to have a sheet that was still tangled around your foot trip you up. You fall a little less than gracefully to the floor, but do manage to find your phone under the bed.
Missed calls and new messages from Ulysses.
You open the messages: Landed. ETA: 1800.
You curse as you count in your head what that means in standard time.
“6:00pm.”
You look at the clock on your nightstand. 11am.
You waste no time in getting started on sprucing up your apartment. The butterflies in your stomach and pounding of your heart fuel you as you fluff up the couch pillows, light candles, and plan dinner.
2:00pm rolls around and you’re stumped between a natural makeup or a full face. You settle for something in between and carefully style your hair, ensuring each lock is in a place to your liking.
Now what to wear...
You could for something casual, an oversized sweater? Should you wear jeans? You opt for a simple snug knee length dress and some chunky Mary Jane heels; it’s comfortable, but still flirty.
You cook dinner and set it in the oven to keep it warm. You go ahead and set out some vintage wine and glasses on the coffee table and sit on the couch.
5:45pm.
You check your phone, but there’s nothing new except a few text messages from some friends.
Your nerves get to you and you go ahead and pop open the wine and pour yourself a glass. You sit back down, but get back up and start practicing how you’ll open the door.
Hand on your hip? No, too much attitude.
Should you be taking a call? Play it casual and aloof? No,no, no. Don’t want to look too busy.
One glass turns to two and then to three.
You’re in the middle of practicing your answering-the-door bit in a silk scarf draped over your elbows with your wine glass in hand when the doorbell rings.
You set down your glass and toss aside the scarf and race to the door and look through the peephole.
Ulysses Klaue stands outside your door, cleaned up in a suit minus the jacket, holding a bouquet of roses. You watch him for a moment as he glances down the hall and checks his watch. He tugs at the tie he’s wearing, his face saying it’s uncomfortable. He usually doesn’t dress up like this, but you remember hearing him say he liked doing it for you. He looks up towards the peephole and you let out a startled squeak as you step back. You compose yourself and fluff up your hair a bit. You take a calming breath and open the door.
He flashes a grin, light glinting off his gold tooth. “There you are,” he says. “Thought I had the wrong door for a minute.” He leans down to kiss you.
It takes a good amount of will power for you to not throw yourself at him, but you’ve missed so much that you can’t help it. You deepen the kiss, your mouth offering no resistance as his tongue ravishes you. His free hand grabs hold of your ass firmly, making you squeak in surprise.
He pulls away from you with a chuckle and shuts the door as you take the flowers from him. You head to the kitchen to prep them to be put into a vase. Klaue follows behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow. You stand at the counter cutting off the stems to the roses at an angle and placing them into a vase. “They’re beautiful,” you say. “Thank you.”
He presses against you from behind and pulls down on of the sleeves of your dress. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He kisses your shoulder, his lips searing into your skin like a brand.
“Sorry I’ve been away,” he says and places another kiss in the crook of your neck.
Your hands feel sweaty against the cool countertop as you brace yourself. You haven’t heard from him in so long and now with his voice in your ear, it has you weak. You spent many nights waiting for something from him to let you know he was okay, that he was alive, and even more nights being at the mercy of your body aching for his touch.
You can’t stop yourself from pushing your ass back against him. You feel his cock is already half hard for you and bite your lip to stifle a moan. He sighs in your ear and grabs your hips and thrusts against you, pinning you to the counter.
“Uri,” you whisper throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Please. I missed you.”
You feel his hands run up your thighs until they hike up your dress to run across your ass. “That so?” he says groping your flesh.
“Yes,” you say turning to face him. “I did.”
You can’t wait any longer, you know you’re already soaked for him. You need him inside of you, not a toy, not your fingers, not anyone else, just him. You need him like the wanderer needs the oasis in the desert; begging for reprieve from the heat of the sun, dropping to their knees in the cool shade, and reverently holding the waters in their hands to drink.
Your hands begin to untuck his neatly pressed shirt and you undo his belt. Klaue turns you back around and bends you over the counter. You brace yourself on the marble top and feel his hands work at ripping apart your panties. Lucky for you, Klaue was just as impatient as you were.
You hear his zipper come undone and feel his thick length press against your ass. “U-Uri,” you moan pushing back against him with need.
His hand dips between your legs to tease your entrance. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already,” he says entering two fingers inside of you.
He gives a few pumps, curling his digits inside you, then pulls them out leaving you empty, to line his now fully erect cock up with your cunt. He slowly pushes himself inside you until he’s fully sheathed in your warmth.
You let out a loud moan at the feeling of being stretched open by him. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size.
“You feel so fucking good on my cock, sweetheart,” Klaue says hissing through his teeth.
His hand tangles in your hair and grabs a handful to pull your head up so that your back arches. Your cunt begs for friction and you begin to move against him. “That’s it, baby,” he says as he begins thrusting into you.
You feel your eyes nearly roll back into your head with how hard he fucks you. Your essence allowing him to glide deeper into you with ease, bottoming out with each thrust. “Yes, Uri!” you cry out. “Just like that!”
Your moans are just as loud as the snap of his hips against your ass. His hand in your hair twists to pull it a bit tighter, not enough to hurt, but just enough to ache. His other hand comes down to smack your ass, the rings on his hand making the flesh sting from the impact. You hear Klaue release a soft curse as he caresses where he spanked you. He smacks you again in the same spot and you cry out. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he says. “Look so fucking good taking all of me, such a good girl.”
His hand releases your hair and wraps around your front to tease around your clit. You are at the precipice of your climax, lost in the ecstasy of him filling you completely once the two of your find a rhythm; your legs tremble as your walls begin to twitch around his cock. “I’m so close, Uri,” you say pushing back against him.
“Me too. But ladies first,” he purrs right in your ear.
His fingers find your clit directly and the sensation is almost too much, so much so that you start to shake, but Klaue grips your shoulder with his other hand to keep you in place while he fucks you and touches you. “You can take it, baby,” he purrs. “Come for me.”
Jolts of pleasure rock through your body and you’re pushed over the edge. Your walls clench tightly around him and your hear him moan in pleasure as he helps you ride through your orgasm. You feel your essence running down your leg and hear the wet slaps of Klaue still fucking you. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Now it’s my turn.”
He places his hand on your neck and guides you to straighten up as he fucks you. His hand trails up further to cradle your jaw and he turns your face toward him. “Let me hear you,” he says. “Where do you want me?”
“Please, Daddy. Please come inside me,” you plead.
Klaue grins as he lets your face go and picks up the pace. Your hips are sure to be sore from how hard he’s pushing you against the counter. He gives one last thrust with a shout and you feel him spill into you. Without removing his cock, Klaue leans over and kisses your shoulder before resting his forehead on you. “Good girl,” he says out of breath.
He pulls out and you can feel your slick mixed with his spend dripping out of you. He steps back and watches it for a moment. “So fucking beautiful,” he says using his fingers to stuff it back inside you. “Hold onto that for me, sweetheart.”
The two of you clean up and you run a bath for the both of you. Klaue leans back against the edge of the tub while you straddle him. You trace your fingers over his tattoos. “You were gone awhile this time,” you say softly following the tendrils on his chest with your index finger.
He sighs tiredly as if the reminder of business was exhausting on its own. “Lot of traveling,” he said. “Had to stay awhile in Singapore before going back to the coast.”
“Singapore,” you say. “One of these days you should take me traveling.”
He grins and kisses you. “Oh yeah?” he says. “Where do you want to go?”
“Hmm...Monaco.”
“I’ve been there a few times,” he says. “Like the beach there.”
“I’d like to see the beach there,” you say playfully while running your hands along his chest.
“How about I take you out on a yacht instead?” he says.
There’s a playfulness in his eyes, a bright lust for life that swallows you whole and holds you there.
“I’d like that,” you say softly before kissing him.
After the bath, Klaue relaxes in the living room while you prepare dinner. He’s turned on the flat screen to a soccer game. You hear him shout and cheer at the players on the screen.
No one else who has ever been in sort of relationship with you has ever received this treatment in your home. It was cut and dry; you fuck them, they pay you, and then they leave.
But for Klaue, you liked having him around, liked actually spending time with him.
Did he feel the same about you? Of this you weren’t sure.
The two of you sit at the table eating the food you’ve made: Japanese style curry and rice. You learned that Klaue’s palate was just as adventurous as he was. There was hardly a food he shied away from. You admired his courage and eclectic tastes. He takes your hand, kisses it, and thanks you for the meal. You smile watching him eat with gusto. “Getting too tired of eating shit while I’m gone,” he says taking another large bite.
“Good thing you have me to take care of you,” you say.
“I count myself very lucky then,” he says with a smile.
After dinner, the two of you lay on a huge oversized pillow you have set up by a window that overlooks the city. It’s night so the lights from the buildings cast a soft glow into the room. There’s a couple of end tables with candles that also offer light and some drinks and snacks you’ve set out. You rest on Klaue’s chest, fingers dancing in the soft curls on his chest while he tells you stories about his adventures since you last saw him. It’s only the good things, nothing gruesome because you learned he doesn’t want to frighten you. Little does he know you crave to know everything about him, the good, the bad, and even the things he himself doesn’t know.
You listen to him, your attention fixated how every word rolls off beautifully with his accent.
“Pangolins?” you ask.
“Little armored creatures that roll into a ball and walk on two legs with their front paws together,” he explains. “Funny little things.”
“And you said they’re endangered?” you ask.
“Parts of the world use their scales for medicine,” he says. “Still some in the wild though.”
“That’s sad,” you say sitting up and reaching for some grapes you’ve set aside. “Oh, that reminds me!” you exclaim as you feed him a few grapes. “I saw that documentary you recommended.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah!” you say popping a grape into your mouth. “Those things are weird! With their eyes and how they change colors!”
He lets out a belly laugh and you laugh, too. He pulls you to him and kisses you deeply. “I’m gonna miss you while I’m out tomorrow,” he says.
You sit up a bit looking confused, but trying not to let it show. “You’re leaving already?” you ask.
He props himself up and reaches for his drink on the table and takes a swig. “Just for a bit,” he explains. “Got something I need to take care of while I’m here. I’ll come right back though and take you out. How’s that sound?”
“I’d like that,” you say kissing him.
His hand cradles the back of your head, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like the spices, the grapes you fed him, and the liquor he’s been drinking. It’s a mix you want ingrained into your memory, a taste you’ll never tire of.
He pulls away from you and your eyes meet. He looks at you like he knows there’s something on your mind.
You really don’t know if he’d stay, if he could belong to you. His business aside, Ulysses Klaue is wordly man; money, jewels, fast cars, planes, the rarest of finds, adventure, he wants everything, wants to be everywhere, and more. It’s what you love most about him. He’d steal the stars if he could.
You break away from his gaze and kiss his cheek as you palm him through the fabric of his pants. He smirks and guides your hand past the hem. He lets out a soft sigh when you touch him. You work your hand on his cock for a bit, stroking it and gliding your thumb around the tip until it’s weeping. You slide further down the pillow and pull down his pants and boxers so that his length is fully exposed to you.
You adjust yourself on your knees and take him into your mouth. You relish the sound of his moan and look up to see him relaxed against the pillow. His hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and gently grasps your hair to guide your head up and down on his length. “I love how you look with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart,” he says looking down at you.
This drives you to take him deeper into your mouth making him inhale sharply. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers, his hips twitching to thrust into your mouth.
You slowly work your way further down his length until you have all of him in your mouth. Tears prick at your eyes as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You use one of your free hands to fondle the rest of his bulge and his grip on your hair tightens. You pick up the pace, bracing yourself on his thigh with your other free hand. You don't shy from making a sloppy mess on his length.
You feel his cock twitch telling you he’s close and proceed to hollow out your cheeks as you suck. He grunts as he comes into your mouth, his thick ropes coating your throat. You swallow his spend with him still in your mouth before sitting back on your knees to catch your breath.
Klaue adjusts himself back into his pants and sits up. He leans forward, places his hand under your chin, and tilts your head up to look him in the eyes.
You know you must be a sight; smeared make-up, glossy eyes with tear trails down your cheeks, lips swollen, drool and his spend at the corner of your mouth, and breathing hard, but he kisses your forehead. It comforts you that he likes you this way. Any other man would walk away, leave you to clean up, but Ulysses looks at you, really looks at you, and suddenly you’re ice cream on a hot summer day, melting under his gaze.
You can’t quit him, can’t get him out of your head. Your heart, your mind, and your body will always come back to him, like tides lusting for the moon.
He cradles your face in his hands and his thumbs wipe the corner of your eyes. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle.
Your hand finds his on your cheek. “This is the only acceptable way that you’re allowed to ruin my makeup,” you say smiling at him.
You enter your bedroom and see Klaue sitting on the edge of the bed removing his jewelry and setting it on the nightstand. You clamber behind him and begin massaging his shoulders. He lets out a content sigh as he relaxes. You eye the brand on his neck and your fingers ghost over it. You don’t know where it came from, but you know it’s not something he chose to have.
“Ulysses,” you say.
“Hm?”
“Do you ever...think there’s an end to what you do?” you ask tentatively.
“An end?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, the day I stop is the day I’m dead. I’m good at what I do.”
“Well, I guess like, retirement, then,” you say moving back from him to lay down.
He shrugs and lays next to you. “Possibly. Probably spend my days out on an island somewhere,” he says. “Why?”
Because I want to go with you. Because I love you.
“Just curious,” you say snuggling close to him.
He sleeps without a shirt and you welcome the skin on skin contact. His arm cradles you to him as you lay on his chest.
He falls asleep first and you sit up a bit to admire him. The curls on his head rest to the side of his face and show off his jaw framed by his beard.
Your hand brushes across his biceps and then over to his chest. Scars pepper his skin and there’s a few new cuts and bruises that you now notice.
You run your fingers over the bumps, there’s ones that look like they’ve opened and had to heal multiple times over. You kiss his scars and fall asleep beside him.
When you wake up, you’re alone, your arm resting over a pillow where Klaue should be and that feeling comes back again, the feeling of being in love and being helpless to it.
You look out the window, the morning sun casting an orange glow on the city and daydream about a life when you can wake up next to Ulysses Klaue and not see an empty space.
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tobiasdrake · 1 year
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Also, and this is just a good bit of characterization, but I love how bloodthirsty T'Challa gets once he has Klaue in his sights.
In his heart of hearts, T'Challa is a vengeful man. Letting go is a learned behavior he picked up after seeing vengeance consume Zemo and the Avengers. He watched Tony burn every bridge in his life to kill Bucky and went, "Shit, I do not want to be that guy."
And we've already seen the new merciful T'Challa put into action. We saw it when he not only spared M'Baku's life but persuaded M'Baku to accept mercy. Like. That's actually a thing he had to do. And he did it. And it was great.
And we saw it with W'Kabi. W'Kabi looked T'Challa in the eye and asked him to promise that this mission would end with Klaue either dead or in Wakandan custody. And T'Challa very specifically promised only the Wakandan custody party. W'Kabi asked for Dead or Alive, and T'Challa changed the request to just Alive before making his promise. Intentions made very clear. He would not murder Klaue for vengeance.
But in the moment?
Oh, man. In the moment, he really wanted to. He was wrestling with that.
T'Challa is not a merciful man. He is a vengeful man making a conscious effort to learn mercy. And that distinction nearly ran red on the streets of Busan. It would have, but for the intervention of his closest associates and the political pressures he was too stuck in his head to think of at the time.
This. Right here. I'm tapping my finger. THIS. Is what good character writing is. It's not just, "Character learned lesson and now they are changed." It's the effort. The hard work put into changing, and the threat of backsliding when your deepest impulses don't match your conscious desires.
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corvlin · 1 year
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give him your lunch money
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