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stepbrorafe · 1 month

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Devil May Care - RC

summary : after getting a small taste of your stepbrother, you crave more. desperate times call for desperate measures.

warnings : stepcest, swearing, jealous!Rafe, rough sex, choking, slapping, spit kink, breeding kink, that’s all i can think of

a/n : Movie Night continuation, sorry 4 the wait 😔💪🏼

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

A very long and excruciating week of teasing has passed; subtle touches, suggestive comments, sexy smirks. You were slowly losing it. Rafe knew exactly what to do to leave you desperate for more. And boy were you desperate.

The way he made you feel last week has been on your mind nonstop. You’ve never been touched the way he touched you, no man ever comparing to him. He made your body burn with an overwhelming pleasure, one that you’ve been craving ever since.

No matter how bad you want it, you can’t bring yourself to act on it. The thought of taking initiative the way he did struck you with vicious anxiety. You know he wants it, and that he’s just getting off on teasing you, but the fear of being rejected is far too strong to make you step out of your comfort zone. Especially with your stepbrother.

To say you’re frustrated would be an understatement. You’ve been craving his hands on you, inside you. You know it’s wrong, but fuck, it feels so right.

You can’t help but be snappy with the people surrounding you, you’re just yearning for something you can’t have and it’s exasperating. Rafe can see the effect he’s had on you and it strokes his ego entirely too much for your liking.

You rack your brain, trying to come up with something that will make him cave and give you what you want. You’ve never been so needy for a man before, and it makes you internally scream at yourself. Rafe’s awoken something in you that won’t seem to go to rest.

After a while of thinking, you find yourself in front of your mirror, admiring the sight. Your body sports a thin white dress that hugs your chest perfectly, showcasing your taut nipples. The bottom flows just under the curve of your ass, in which one wrong move will flash your pretty pink thong.

Your devious and impulsive mind decides to do what you think will work best—make Rafe jealous. As he’s the very jealous type for whatever the case is, you think it’ll work in your favor. So, that’s why you rub your plump lips together, rubbing your shiny lip gloss in. Flashing a satisfied smirk at your reflection, you make your way downstairs where you can hear Rafe and Topper chatting.

It takes you all of thirty seconds to make your way into the living room where the two reside. They’re both sat on different sofas, and you choose to sit right beside Topper, eager to get on with your little plan.

The second Rafe’s eyes take you in, his face hardens. He’s instantly tightening his jaw, already suspicious of you.

“Hey Top, Rafe.” You greet them with an innocent smile.

“Y/N! You look—wow.” Topper marvels, his eyes raking over your entire body.

You grin, leaning even closer to him. “Thank you. You look pretty delicious yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Rafe cuts in, his eyes shooting daggers into you.

You turn your head in his direction, a fake frown pulling to your lips. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head, slightly squinting his eyes as he reiterates, “What are you doing?”

You bite back the smirk that threatens to plaster itself on your face, innocently shrugging, “Just figured I’d come hangout with my brother and his friend.”

“Stepbrother.” He grits, correcting you with a sharp gaze.

Topper tosses an arm around your shoulders, leaning back into the couch. “You’re welcome to chill any time.”

“Don’t touch her.” Rafe bites, unable to help himself.

You and Topper share a look of confusion before landing on Rafe, staring incredulously. Though, you have more of a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What?” Topper chuckles.

“Get your hand off of her.” Rafe snarls, acknowledging the look of suspicion from his friend and continuing, “You already went through one sister, you don’t get another.”

Topper slowly retracts his arm from you, taking in how serious Rafe suddenly became, and not wanting to endure any of his wrath. He crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact with Rafe.

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes, placing your small hands around his bicep. “We’re just having fun, right Top?”

If possible, Rafe’s glare hardens as he watches you. He knows you’re up to something, and though he doesn’t know exactly what, he’s becoming more and more agitated with your antics.

“You boys want anything to drink?” You question, quickly standing, not bothering to readjust your risen dress.

“Ye-“

Rafe cuts Topper off, “We’re fine. Quit being sick and leave us alone.”

You pout, turning on your heel to face him, swiveling back and forth, “What am I doing?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, “Shut up, you know what you’re doing. Go on now.” His eyes dart to Topper, “Keep your eyes off her ass, dude.”

You smirk to yourself, knowing your devious little plan is working, and saunter off to the kitchen to grab a water that you don’t even really want. You’re quick with grabbing the bottle from the fridge, eager to head back into the living room.

Rafe’s eyes are instantly on you when you return, almost as if he’s anticipating your next move. You shoot him a little smirk, causing him to narrow his eyes. You ‘accidentally’ drop your water in front of Topper, and slowly bend over to pick it up, showcasing your plump ass.

Rafe’s breathing grows ragged, his body tensing up with lust and anger. He sees right through you now, knowing exactly what you’re doing. Unfortunately for him, it’s working.

Topper has to tear his eyes away from you as you return to your seat next to him. He’s completely oblivious to what’s going on, he’s just painfully aware of how good you look, and it’s almost impossible to avert his eyes.

The two continue their conversation, you paying no mind as you twiddle your fingers. You pull your hair tie off of your wrist and pull it back and forth, occupying yourself as you think of what to do next.

You can see that Rafe is tense and riled up. He’s mad at you. You grin to yourself at knowing it’s working. You want nothing more than for him to fuck your brains out. He gave you a little taste the other night, and now you’re starving for more.

You sit and wonder what all he’s going to do to you, and the endless thoughts get you hot and bothered. You catch yourself clenching your thighs, attempting to soothe the building ache between your legs with even the slightest friction.

Your actions don’t go unnoticed by Rafe. His hands rest on his groin, tugging at his pants and shifting slightly in his seat in an effort to hide his growing bulge. You can do the bare minimum and it still gets him going. He just wants to bend you over the couch and fuck you silly, punish you for acting like a brat.

Biting your inner cheek to keep yourself from smiling, you flick your hair tie at Topper’s knee and it falls between his legs.

“Oops, sorry.” You pout, sliding down to grab it.

You position yourself in front of him, kneeling between his legs as you lean forward to retrieve it. You notice his breath hitch as you’re so close to him and it makes you smile to yourself.

Rafe is furious. He doesn’t want you on your knees for anyone other than him. He’s grown sick of your little act.

Just as you place your hand on Topper’s knee to lift yourself back up, Rafe’s hand is in your hair as he pulls you up himself. His eyes never leave you as he grits his teeth, “Go home, Top.”

His eyes widen as he looks up at you two, confusion washing over his face. “What?”

“Go. Home.” Rafe repeats, finally breaking his stare from you and glaring at his friend.

With a few small swears of bewilderment, Topper’s standing up and heading out the door. Once it’s closed, Rafe’s hold on your hair tightens, straightening you up.

“You think it’s cute? Hm? Touching all up on Top?” He sneers, his opposite hand gripping your jaw as he lifts your face up to look at him. “Make you feel good?”

“I don’t want him.” Is all you can get out before he’s pulling you towards the stairs.

“I’ll give you something to touch.”

You both get to his room within seconds, and he’s eagerly locking the door and turning towards you with dark eyes and a clenched jaw.

“You just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?” He tsks, pushing you onto your knees as he undoes his belt. “Open it up then.”

Your insides are burning with desire and excitement, beyond pleased with the outcome of your plan. You can’t stop clenching around nothing, longing to be filled by him. Just the simple thought has your entrance seeping with arousal.

He slowly removes his belt from the loops of his pants and steps closer to you, “Hands.”

Your eyes widen as you slowly give him what he wants, your heart racing as he wraps the belt around your hands, tightly securing them. You let them fall in your lap as he undoes his pants, pulling them and his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection.

Your mouth waters at the sight. His dick is long and thick, such a pretty pink tip, veins running along the shaft. He looks painfully hard, and knowing it’s because of you makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

He brings his hand to your jaw, softly running his fingertips over your skin. The pad of his thumb rubs your bottom lip before roughly poking into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. The way your plump lips wrap around his thumb makes his cock throb.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” He rasps, “I’m going to ruin you.”

He removes his thumb, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. His hand wraps around his thick member, sighing from the pleasure. The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills him with an excitement he’s never felt before.

Tapping the head on your lips, he smirks, “Open.”

You do as he says, your tongue slightly protruding. He slowly shifts forward, his cock entering your salivating mouth. The second your lips close around him, his breath hitches and he’s fighting the urge to toss his head back. It feels so good, but he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He places his hands on the sides of your face, holding you steady as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth. His groans fill the air, encouraging you to take him. Wet gargles and gags emit from you as he fucks your mouth deeper and deeper.

Tears brim in your eyes as he glides down your throat, dribbles of drool falling from the sides of your mouth.

“Look at you.” Rafe grunts, removing his hands from your face to pull his shirt off, before grabbing you again. “So desperate for my cock.”

His thrusts grow faster, the wet sounds from your mouth become louder. He’s full on using your throat as a toy to get him off. And you love every bit of it.

He takes his bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth gnawing down on it to prevent his moans from slipping. You look so pretty on your knees, cheeks coated in mascara stained tears, slobber running from your mouth, luscious lips wrapped around his dick. He could cum from the sight of you like this.

His grip on your face tightens as his cock abuses your throat. He shoves himself all the way in and holds it there, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone. He can feel your throat repeatedly opening and closing around him, instantly sending him into a euphoric state.

His abdomen flexes as waves of pleasure flood his body. His thighs twitch and his cock throbs, finally emptying his hot load down your throat with a loud moan. He gives a few more pumps before he removes himself from you, leaving you to swallow his cum.

After doing so, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that you took it all. He grins, his hand encasing your face as he squeezes your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker in a slight pout.

“Such a good little slut for me.” He huskily breathes.

You nod as best you can with his grip on your face. He licks his lips and pulls you up to your feet, staring down at you with a look of utter desire.

“Hm.” He hums, brushing a hand through your hair. “Bet you want more, don’t you, Sis?”

You frantically nod as your heart pounds in your chest, your pussy throbbing with a carnal craving for him. “Yes. Please.”

He gives you that infamous smirk, one that should scare you away because you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but it only drawls you in more.

“As much as I love it.. Take it off.” He declares, nodding towards your little dress.

Your hands instantly grab the hem of the dress, swiftly pulling it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your pink panties. Your nipples harden from the cool air, and you bring your arms to your sides to provide warmth.

His eyes trail over your entire body, his semi hard cock already growing once again. His hands reach the sides of your thighs, warm fingertips trailing over your skin. They glide upwards, tracing over the strap of your thong. Dipping his fingers into the waistband, he pulls it out and lets it snap back against you.

Your breath hitches in anticipation, your core saturating the small fabric between your legs. His hands make their way up your body, touching every bit of skin. He firmly fondles and caresses every curve, memorizing every dip. Prominent goosebumps arise on your skin as his hands roam over it.

Your big doe eyes haven’t left his once, taking in the way he seems to be soaking you in. His palms softly engulf your tits, squeezing them tightly and massaging them in circles. His actions pull a soft moan from you as your head tilts a bit to the right.

“Fuck.” He whispers, stepping closer to you so that your bodies are flushed together. “You’re so perfect.”

Your face heats up at his compliment, burning beneath his touch as he places a hand on your cheek. His lifts your face up, his thumb delicately brushing over your cheek. His touches are so soft as if he’s not about to destroy you.

Leaning down, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, almost as if testing the waters. He places a few more. Then, like he can’t get enough, his mouth is on yours in a feverish kiss. He kisses you so deeply as one hand holds your face, and his opposite trails around to your ass.

He squeezes it harshly, pulling a moan from your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in between your parted lips, exploring the wet softness of your mouth. Your tongues dance together, moving perfectly in sync.

Rafe can’t believe it’s taken this long for you guys to kiss. He’s tasted you, buried his fingers in you, and his cock in your mouth, yet you’re only now kissing.

He’s never felt this way before. Kissing is usually just something he does to keep his mouth busy when fucking someone. But right now, with you, he doesn’t want to pull away. So, he doesn’t.

His hand moves from your cheek down to your neck, squeezing tightly as the kiss grows sloppier. He walks you backwards to the bed, falling on top of you when the back of your knees hit it.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and leaves wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and bites your sensitive skin, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

He continues lowering himself on you, his lips leaving trails of saliva along your collarbones. His teeth nip your skin, tongue flickering just to taste you. His mouth meets every sliver of skin shown, none of you going untouched.

Your body is hot beneath him, and your insides feel even hotter. Your chest heaves with every deep breath you take, small pants and moans emitting from your mouth as he works on you. Your forehead begins to glisten with sweat, the air now hot around the two of you.

Rafe’s hands grasp your tits, thumbs instantly flicking over your hard nipples. He groans against your chest, inhaling the way you smell. His tongue pokes out, traveling to your boobs, his mouth marking the plump skin. He takes your right nipple in his mouth, sucking it and the skin around it as his hand words your opposite one.

You can’t help but arch into him, loving the feeling he’s giving you. You’ve been wanting this so bad, and now that you’re finally getting it, you’re on cloud nine.

“Rafe.” You whimper as he moves to your left tit.

“Mhm. I know, baby.” He moans into you.

Leaving your boobs wet with his saliva, he keeps going lower and lower, peppering wet open mouthed kisses along your stomach. He reaches the waistband of your panties and places a soft kiss.

You’re practically shuddering beneath him. The fabric between your legs is absolutely drenched with your arousal.

Rafe’s lips trail over the wet cotton, humming in satisfaction, “So fucking wet for me.”

His nose brushes against your clothed clit, causing your body to jerk from the feeling. He smirks against you, and deeply inhales, taking in the scent of you with a hungry moan. His tongue pokes at your covered entrance and trails up your core, flicking over your bundle of nerves.

“So wet I can taste you through your panties.” He smirks, his finger grabbing at the side of the fabric.

He looks up at you, licking his lips at the way your mouth is slightly parted, heavy breaths emitting from it. He pulls the side of your panties over, revealing your glistening folds. With a watering mouth, he dips his tongue into your entrance and drags it up through your lips, right over your clit. You can’t help the lewd moan that’s pulled from your throat.

Not stopping there, Rafe drags his tongue up your stomach and through the valley of your breasts. He breathes you in deeply as his tongue glides up your neck, making his way towards your lips. He smashes his mouth onto yours, moaning into you, knowing he’s about to have so much fun and make you feel so good.

Your lips dance together in a sloppy kiss, tongues fighting, teeth clashing. Your hands meet his broad shoulders, running down his muscular biceps. His hands run from your rib cage down to your waist, grinding his groin on yours. You pull away with a gasp, moaning at the sensation.

He leans back up on his knees between your legs. You watch as he wraps his hand around his shaft, slowly pumping it up and down. You roll your hips, needing some sort of friction as you’re desperate to be filled by him.

He puckers his lips and blows a kiss at you as he places the tip of his cock on your covered pussy. He begins rubbing it over the wet fabric, gliding up and down your slit, pulling soft moans from both of you.

“Feel good, baby?” He coos as you lean your head back.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, unable to form words with the trance he’s put you in.

He pulls your panties to the side once more, sliding his dick through your folds. The second he runs over your clit, your legs quiver. He lets go of your panties, holding them down over his member as he thrusts back and forth.

His head lolls to the side, taking a deep breath through his nose. The feeling of your soaking core and the wet fabric surrounding him is pleasurable enough to bring him close to the edge. Except, he’s not ready to cum again.

He pulls away, leaving you whining at the loss of contact. He grins and lets out a breathy chuckle, before his hands are gripping your hips and flipping you over with ease. You squeal at the sudden rough movement, but quickly get on your knees, arching your back as you lay your cheek on the pillow.

“Fuck.” Rafe groans, gripping your plump ass. “You’ve no idea what you do to me. So close to bending you over the couch and fucking you right in front of Top.”

A moan slips from your mouth as he kneads the fat, spreading your cheeks as he massages you.

“Yeah.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He snickers, “Love to act all innocent, but you’re really just a desperate little whore, begging to be filled by her stepbrother. Hm?”

You can only whimper at his words.

“You wouldn’t even care if everyone knew, would you? No… You wouldn’t.. You’d walk around a party with my kids dripping down your legs if I told you to.”

“P-please.” You beg, pushing your ass further into him.

“So needy.” He teases, finally pulling your thong down.

He stops at your knees, deciding to rip the thin fabric off, so he can keep you in this delicious position. A pout forms on your lips at the sound of him tearing your panties, but you don’t say anything because you know it’s going to be worth everything he’s about to give you.

He places his member at your slit, rubbing it through your folds to coat it in your fluids. Your breathing is erratic, and your stomach is flooding with excitement. You can’t help but push back into him again. His hand falls down on your ass with a loud smack, leaving a stinging sensation as you yelp.

“Be patient.” He orders.

His hand is instantly rubbing the red handprint, soothing the pain he left behind. Leaning over your ass, he puckers his lips and spits, watching the jewel of saliva trickle down your core. Just as it meets the tip of his cock that’s placed as your entrance, he’s slowly pushing into you until he bottoms out.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, your breath suddenly ripped from your lungs.

You feel so full. Fuller than you’ve ever been in your entire life. There’s a burning sensation, but it doesn’t compare to the pleasure you get just from him being buried inside you. You can’t help but clench around him.

“So fucking tight.” He groans, “Squeezing the hell out of me, sis.”

He slowly pulls back until just his tip is in you, and roughly rams back in, pulling a scream from you. He groans in pleasure as he begins pumping in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts.

“R-Rafe.” You whine out, repeatedly clenching around him.

His cock slides in and out of you with ease, the sound of your arousal squelching around you. His hands grip your ass, pulling you hard against him to meet every thrust.

“God, you feel so good.” He moans, picking up the force in his strokes.

Your ass jiggles in waves with every time he buries himself in you. The sound of your skin slapping is loud. His thrusts become fast and hard, digging into you so deep. Your hands clench the sheets beneath you, and you bite your arm to prevent yourself from screaming. It hurts so good.

The sound of your muffled noises bring Rafe’s attention from where you’re both connected to the back of your head. His hand instantly wraps around your hair and roughly tugs your head back.

“Nuh uh. Wanna hear your pretty little moans.”

As if it’s possible, his cock digs deeper into your spongy walls, pulling a loud pornographic moan from your mouth. Your whole body shakes with every movement of his.

“Yeah.. That’s more like it. Sound so fucking sexy.” He groans, smacking your ass as he pounds you.

At this point, you can’t help the continuous cries and moans that fall from your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and your mouth is stuck slack. Drool falls from your lips, creating a small wet spot on the pillow below you.

Rafe pushes on your back, arching you even more as he leans over you. He’s so deep, it feels like he’s fucking your throat. He kisses your back, licking up your spine until he gets to your neck. His heavy pants and moans fill your ear, his hot breath leaving your hair standing up.

“What if mom and dad saw you like this?” He taunts in your ear. “What do you think they’d say? Hm?”

With every word he says, he digs deeper into your cunt. So deep that you’re almost crawling away. His grip on your hair tightens and he’s yanking your head back, keeping you still so he can fuck you as deep as he wants.

“Don’t run. This is what you wanted, right?”

Incoherent words fall from your lips, being overtaken by your loud moans. Rafe’s reveling in the fact that he’s damn near fucked you stupid already.

“S’too much!” You cry out, finally able to string words together.

He instantly pulls out and flips you over onto your back, before burying himself in you within seconds. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as he fills you back up.

“This better for you? Hm?” Rafe grunts as he thrusts into you, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. “Yeah. Missed your pretty face anyways.”

He watches as your face scrunches up in pleasure. Your brows knit together, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth stuck open as continuous lewd noises emit from it. You look so fucking perfect. He wants to have you like this forever.

“Your pussy feels so nice around me.” Rafe moans into your neck. “So good. Whose is it?”

You don’t respond with words, causing him to pull away and roughly grip your jaw. He stares down at you, his hand coming down on your face with a rough smack as he reiterates between hard strokes, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Mm. Y-yours. Rafe’s. F-fuck, it’s yours.” You cry out as the knot in your stomach becomes increasingly tighter.

His lips slam onto yours as his hips rut into you, the two of you molding together so perfectly. He kisses you like you’re the oxygen he needs to survive. It takes your breath away and you love every second of it.

Pulling away from your lips, his fingers replace his tongue and are shoving into your mouth. He pulls a gag from you as his nose brushes against yours. Using his fingers to pull your mouth open, he spits in it, then fiercely kisses you as his hand travels down your body.

Just as he brings his hand down to rub your clit, you hear a door slam downstairs. You immediately tense up, but Rafe doesn’t falter. He continues to relentlessly pound into you, making it so fucking hard to be quiet.

“Uh-oh.” He feigns fear, “Someone’s coming.”

Despite his words, he doesn’t let up on his thrusts or his circles on your clit. His taunting eyes bore into you as he watches your entire body quake.

“Do you want me to stop?” He teases, instantly slowing his strokes.

“No!” You cry out, “No, no! Fuck. Please-please don’t stop.”

He picks the pace back up, causing your insides to twist. “You sure? We might get caught.”

His tantalizing words push you over the edge. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. Euphoria floods your veins, and white stars dance in your eyes. Your juices pour out of you faster and harder than they ever have before.

He loudly groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, “Fuck, I knew you were a slut. Getting off at the thought of being caught with your stepbrother. Such a naughty girl.”

You can’t help the moans that leave your mouth as he pumps in and out of you. His strokes grow sloppy, indicating he’s close. His hands meet your tits, gripping them and using them as leverage to keep you still while he fucks you.

You clench around him once more, coming down from your high, and it makes his hips stutter as he fills you up with a loud moan. He keeps fucking into you deep, emptying his load so far into you. You moan from the warm gushy feeling of him painting your walls.

Very slowly, he comes to a halt, but before he can pull out, loud knocks ring through the door and Sarah’s voice is heard from the other side. “Rafe! Who the fuck do you have in there?! You guys are loud as fuck, it’s gross.”

Your eyes widen in fear and Rafe just smirks down at you, calling out to her, “Oh, just my favorite slut.”

Her words of disgust fall on deaf ears as she walks away, leaving the two of you to bask in the pleasure you both received. Your doe eyes staring up at him, his warm eyes gazing down at you, filled with adoration.

“I mean it by the way.” He whispers against your lips. “You are my favorite.”

You roll your eyes as a blush paints your cheeks, “I better be your only.”

He chuckles and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, “Of course you are. That’s why you’re my favorite. Now let’s go shower, I’m not done with you yet.”

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

taglist : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams @rafesgiirl @yourenogoodforme @marvelfanfics1recs @cini-mini27 @pinkribboncoco @drewsphswife @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

377 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 10 months

Note

Would you write dumbification with Hangman?

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Jake is absolutely enamored by the way your cunt stretches tight around his cock. He takes his time getting you wet, pressing hot and heavy kisses to your thighs, to the hood of your clit, licking stripes of spit through your folds until your own wetness greets him. Then when you're ready, when you're tugging at his hair, pulling him up to grip at his muscled biceps, begging for his cock that hangs thick and heavy between his legs, he pushes in.

Your stretched cunt is the perfect size for his cock. He's thick and long; after all, the jokes he makes about his callsign aren't just that. Your cunt stretches deliciously around his length, encasing him in wet warmth that he can't help but pound into.

"God, baby," He pants, hips relentlessly pistoning into your pussy, "That's- ah, you feel so good, so wet and tight, nngh!"

You whine at his breathy praises, practically writhing in pleasure at the feeling of finally being full. Jake's magnificent with his tongue, but nothing beats his cock. You want to tell him how fantastic he feels, how big and thick his cock is, how much you love it when it's stuffing you stupid, but the words won't come out, your voice only able to flow freely and unshapely from your throat in moans and groans each time Jake thrusts forwards.

You're not usually this soft-spoken. You love telling Jake how amazing he feels, you're both suckers for praise. So when you don't return his sentiments, Jake kisses up the side of your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.

"Does it feel good, baby? Tell me, tell me- ah!" Jake breaks off as your cunt clenches unexpectedly around his cock, "Tell me how it is."

"I- It's-" You babble desperately, clinging to your memory of his own words to help you form the sentence that your own brain can't. You cleave to his biceps like a lifeline, dragging him impossibly closer and deepening the angle of your hips so that he pounds deeper into you. "It's- hnnghohmygod!"

"You-" Jake breaks off with an incredulous laugh, trying not to cum already; he's caught off guard by how attractive your speechlessness is. He has the libido of ten men, he's got energy to burn and he's never had trouble lasting long, but all of a sudden he's about to bust his nut in barely a minute like a depraved teen, all because you can't form the words to tell him how good you feel.

"You can't even say it," Jake marvels, his cocky, pleasure-hazed expression hovering over your face, "You go all stupid on my cock, huh darlin'?"

You try scolding him, your lips forming a weak "Ja-" until his tongue hits your neck, and, combined with his thick cock pounding into you, it shorts out your circuits. The sound transforms into a cry of sorts, a pathetic, "Aah!" That Jake revels in.

"You can't even say my name? Did you forget it, darlin'? Say it," He instructs, "Say my name, sweetheart."

He doesn't let up in his steady, forceful thrusts, slamming the head of his leaking cock into a spot so sensitive it has you seeing stars. The more you struggle to speak, the more turned on he gets, and the faster he jackhammers into you, which only makes you less capable of speech. It's a vicious cycle, and you've lost control ages ago.

"Come on," He teases, nudging his nose against yours, "Come on, angel baby. What's m'name? Say it, fuckin'- scream it, baby, come on."

"J- Ja-" You try, and he takes a hand, gripping your chin and tilting your head back, opening your throat even more. It tears a broken whimper from your throat as you start feeling the crest of your orgasm, and you get sidetracked from your mission.

"That's it. Keep goin', honey. You're halfway there. Don't stop now."

He doesn't really want you to say his name, though. He'd love it if you did, your sweet voice screaming his name always has his floodgates bursting, but what he's really after now is more stuttering, more delicious speechless babbling that let him know he's worked you up more than he ever has before.

When he dips down to suck hard at your neck, surely leaving you with a hickey for tomorrow, you give up. You know you won’t be able to say his name, not as your thighs tremble and a wave of pleasure washes over you. It tingles from your head to your toes, starting at your core and blossoming out from there. You can't control your volume anymore, and you scream, but it's not Jake's name. It's just a piercing wail, lustful and oozing with pleasure as Jake fucks hard through your orgasm. He fucks you right into his own, pushing his lips onto yours in a forceful kiss when they prove useless in uttering his name.

"Fuck," Jake breathes against your mouth, hips slowing gradually as his dick twitches. He's not sure he's ever cum this much, and some of it oozes out from where you're still joined. He watches it spurt from your cunt with a guttural groan in his throat, kissing hot and wet at your spit-soaked lips.

"That was fast, baby," He pants, feeling your thighs shaking as he carefully pulls out, resting on his hip to take his weight off of you, "Just can't control myself when you get all dumb on my cock."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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jasmines-library · 7 months

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Just forget about it.

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Prompt: ‘conditioning’

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: As part of the winter soldier program, all you’ve know is how to kill. After years of being left in cyrofreeze, you are finally let out and are given a mission; to protect. You follow it to the t. Until a certain familiar face shows up to get you out of there. (I suck at summaries ok?)

Warnings: Torture, mind control, fighting.

Word count: 2.8k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The room was cold, and you couldn’t see anything besides the white fog that rose slowly in front of your face as your mind snapped back online. It hurt too, as your brain began to receive signals again from your pain receptors, your body lit up like it was being stabbed over and over again by a thousand tiny needles. They dug into every inch of your body, burning in your veins. Everything seemed too loud; your thoughts which raced at a thousand miles an hour, the harsh tones of the men surrounding you, the loud clunking of the machines. It made you miss the blissful silence you had been engulfed in for who knows how long.

When the door to the chamber hissed open, and the cold clouds of ice dissipated away, you squinted at the bright light which flooded in. When your eyes adapted, you stared grimly at the man before you. He was all too familiar, though he looked significantly older. It was the face of the man who had tortured you and shaped you into what you were; an unstoppable weapon. He smiled darkly at you as you tried to move away, though you were still restrained by the metal cuffs that pulled you tight against the back of the chamber. You had been in this position before, but something was different this time. This time you remembered. You remembered the feeling of the harsh grip on your arm as you were dragged back into where you would be put back into a deep, meaningless sleep. You remembered the cold and then pain- tenfold to what you were feeling now. But you also remembered a face. One with hard features; long dark hair and firm blue eyes, but often with gentle intent. Something nagged at you that you shouldn’t be able to remember that.

The man stepped towards you, the shit eating grin still plastered on his face. “Hello my lotus.” He spoke to you, his Russian thick and unmissable. “Oh how I have missed you very much. It was such a shame when we had to put you back in cryofreeze. I have missed your pretty face very much, but not to worry. I have a job for you, my lotus.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s just hope we don’t have another little mishap. Hmm?”

He leaned down towards you and you took it as a chance to spit in his face. “You fuck yourself.”

He blinked, wiping away the spit from his face before turning back to you. “You are going to regret that, soldat.”

There were more hands on you then, freeing you from the restraints and dragging you through the room. With what little energy you had, you squirmed but that only resulted in a kick to the ribs to settle you down.

They brought you to an open room, industrial looking of sorts. It was large with machines for all sorts pressed against the walls. In the centre of the room, raised on a circular platform stood a chair. The fabric of the chair was torn and frayed beneath the harsh light above it. You writhed as the men dragged you towards it. You kicked and screamed like a child as you struggled to get away. The chair held too many unwanted, painful memories. When you were forced onto the old leather and bound once again by metal cuffs on your forearms, the familiar man stepped before you and grinned, trailing his hand along your jaw.

“Let’s hope you learn to obey this time, soldat.”

With that, he turned to slam the heavy doors to the room. You heard the locks whirr as they clicked into place, as he moved away into some part of the room that you couldn’t see from where you were sitting, leaving you with another man whom you didn’t recognise. He stepped forwards, ensuring that you were secure.

“Begin.” You heard from behind you.

There was a shuffling across the room, followed by a whirring of the machinery you were strapped to as it started up. Then you were consumed by a blinding pain. You let out a blood curdling scream, which ricocheted off of the tiled walls. Thrashing and writhing, you tugged on the metal cuffs. They dug into your skin and you tried to escape the pain that radiated in your head and raced through your body. It was a thousand agonies at once. When you thought you couldn’t take any more, the pain amped up. Your head pounded and your eyes burned against the light. Your fingernails scraped along the leather as your back arched. Blood dripped from your nose and your ears. You could taste its copperness as it spilled over your chapped lips and into your mouth.

Then, it all stopped.

Your body slumped back against the chair with what little energy you had left. Your limp body heaved for air. You swallowed thickly; your throat was raw.

The man slunk forwards from wherever he had retreated to in the room. Your body froze when the string of russian words began to slip from his mouth.

“Purify.”

You tensed, eyes wide as you looked around the room.”

“Brass. Hang. Illustrate.”

You thrashed, trying to cover your ears with your hands, but to no avail.

“Noiseless, twelve, evanescent.”

“NO! No..” You cried. These words would be your undoing. Once they had been uttered there was no going back. You couldn’t go back.

“Illustrate, beserk.”

“NO! STOP IT!... Please.”

“Connection.”

Your mind went black. No feelings, just the urge to follow orders. Thoughts, but no control or freedom over what they were. Your bloodied body relaxing in the chair. Thousands of memories of your training and your experimentation flooded your head. You raised your head to look up at the grey haired man. “Ready to comply.”

“Good. We have a mission for you, Soldat.”

~~~

Shoot, kill, protect. Shoot, kill, protect.

That was all that went through your mind and you slunk around the corners of the base. It had been infiltrated by a group of highly-trained superheroes. They were hardly subtle, despite how much they tried to be. Your enhanced hearing allowed you to hear their footsteps echoing across the halls. Pressing yourself up against the wall, you waited until they had rounded the corner. You were lingering only a few feet away from where Zola had locked himself away to prepare for his escape. You were not only guarding him, but also the files that he possessed. Little did you know that that was not all that the Avengers were hoping to find.

When the footsteps rounded the corner, you were greeted with a redhead woman. Before she could move any further, you had your hand wrapped tightly around her throat, pinning her against the wall. You narrowed your eyes, pressing your gun to her abdomen. She delivered a harsh blow to your stomach, which despite your strength sent you keeling backwards.

“I’ve got eyes.” She muttered something else into her comms, making an advance towards the room, but you grabbed her leg and pulled her to the ground. Her head hit the floor.

Scrabbling for your gun, you were up on your feet in seconds before another two pairs of footsteps reached the end of the corridor. This time, it was two men that rounded the corner. Bucky’s heart almost stopped in his chest when his eyes landed on you. He felt as though he was going to be sick. Mechanically, you readied yourself into a fighting stance. Racing towards you, they both advanced towards you. You ducked under the arm of the taller one before using the wall to propel yourself towards the other. The small hallway became a blue of bullets and limbs as the three of you fought. The movement of one of them was well placed. He seemed to know all of the counters to your moves. It was the red star on his silver arm that caught your attention. And that small distraction was all it took for the man to knock you down and plaster you to the floor.

As you kicked, trying to get a good hit in on the man, he studied your face. It flashed with recognition. Your piercing eyes would never leave Bucky’s memories.

“Y/n?”

You flinched at the small mention of your name, but your programming was too strong. Shoot, kill, protect. Your fingers reached for your gun which he had knocked out of your hands. Your fingers inched along the floor, but then there was a firm grip on your wrist keeping it still. You squirmed.

Bucky tried again. He couldn’t quite believe that you were in front of him. Your face hadn’t changed much since the last time he saw you but you looked older, more tired. “Doll?”

You stiffened. The name cuts through your programming like a knife in butter. His face came flooding back to you, some memories good, some bad. He was there when you were at your lowest, you were there when he was at his. The two of you had been together through thick and thin, supporting each other through what little good and what masses of pain you had experienced. You furrowed his brow, scanning his face. His blue eyes were still the same, but he looked different. Kinder. Calmer.

“Bucky?”

“Yes!” The super soldier nearly cried. “Yes doll. It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

He eased his touch a little as you melted against him. His touch became tender like you remembered it to be as he cupped your face with his non metal arm.

There was a commotion behind you. The sound of bullets filled the air and your programing shifted to the front of your mind again. With Bucky’s loosened grip on you, you managed to wiggle out from under him and scramble towards the open door. The other man had managed to slip away and infiltrate the room where Zola had barred himself in. You raced in, your finger poised on the trigger. You raised it, aiming at the offender in the room. Though something was stopping you from pulling the trigger as you so normally would under the soldier programing.

Zola frowned angrily. “Kill him.” He spat.

Your hand shook as your mind fought itself. One part of you screamed at you to just pull the trigger. The other, more sane part of you told you otherwise.

A pair of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the scene. You tried to fight against them, but also enhanced by the serum, Bucky’s strength was on par with yours.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

His grip was firm as it moved to your shoulders.

“Hey, Hey calm down.”

You tried to kick at him, but it was pointless.

“You’re ok doll. It’s me.”

You stilled, relaxing in his arms again.

“I’m gonna get you out of here Doll. I promise.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY EIGHT ⛤ DAY TEN ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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gizmo-writes · 11 months

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fake your death | spencer reid

TRIGGER WARNINGS: stalking, kidnapping, pain, mentions of death, crying, lowkey copied natasha romanoffs back story because i love her

i choose defeat, i walk away

and leave this place the same today

The past few months had been hard. The hardest it had ever been. Cases piled up as you struggled to stay focused. It was hard to stay focused with what was happening in your life. The letters, the gifts, the constant fear of who was hiding around the corner. You tried to keep the team out of it, it wasn't their fight to fight. Your past, the things you had done were your business and no one elses. That was until it became too much, whoever was after you had gotten close, too close. They found Spencer, your boyfriend, and you knew it was time. You had to tell them, you couldn't risk anyone else being in danger. You had seen Emily try to hide stuff like this before and it only turned into hell for her and the team. So you came forward, whether you wanted to or not.

"So how long has this been happening?" Hotch asked as the team sat around the round table. "Months.. the letters started back in October of last year.. the gifts came a few months after that.. then they- they found Spence," you sighed, staring down at the papers before you. "The gifts, the letters, do they mean something to you?" Morgan asked. "Just- just stuff from my past." You shook your head, trying to ignore the things that haunted you from the past. "Y/n, we need more than that, what from your past was specified, what did they know that no one else would know?" Emily asked.

You didn't want to tell them, you spent years hiding yourself. You looked over at Hotch, the one man who knew it all. You were hoping for some sort of help, a look that would tell you what to say and not to say, but he gave you nothing. "I- I was a trained agent in russia. It- I- whoever it is knew that. They have sent me photos of me from back then, with my decoy family, with other agents. They have everything and it doesn't make sense. The only people who know that stuff were the people I worked with. It was a covert mission, nothing documented, to stay away from prying eyes." You explained, staring down at the table. "You were some super secret Russian spy? Like in the marvel movies?" Garcia said. You let out a soft giggle, "basically," you said. "But we won't be able to find any documents about it?" JJ asked. "Nothing, all names used were fake, the decoy family was fake. I never truly knew who I was working with. I just blindly trusted them in hopes I could get out of the shitty life i had." You explained. "You never told me." Spencer said. You looked over at him, he seemed hurt. "Spence, i couldn't. I wanted to leave that all behind." You said. "That doesn't matter, you can trust me. You know that, I have showed you time and time again that you can trust me." Spencer said. "Spence.. that's- I couldn't tell you.. you don't understand." You said. "No, I guess I don't." He said, standing up and walking out. You shut your eyes, sighing.

Things only got worse from there. Sure, spencer was upset with you but after whoever it was managed to find you.. that all went out the window. You were trapped, hand cuffed to a chair and forehead bleeding. You were tired, exhausted, eyes struggling to stay open. "Look at me," the person said, grabbing your face. There it was, the moment you knew you weren't going to make it out alive. The second the mask came off.. you knew. You weren't going to be let go of until you were dead. It was a known fact, if the victim saw the unsubs face, the chances of them making it out alive was close to zero. "Why don't you remember me? Huh? Why did you think it was okay to leave me behind! In a Russian prison! I risked my life to save you and you- you left me!" The man yelled at you, spitting in your face. The yelling made your head pound, your head falling back as you struggled to stay conscious. "Look at me!" He screamed, grabbing your face with such force you cried out. "I-I didn't want to leave you, you have to understand." You pleaded, struggling to look the man in the eyes with how bright the room was. "Oh boo hoo! You moved on so quickly after leaving. You even got a little boyfriend now huh? A new family? Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, should I continue or do you get the point?" He asked. Your heart ached, you would do anything to make sure they were okay. "Please, don't hurt them," you whimpered. "Oh trust me.. I'll hurt them, I'll make them suffer. I know how much they love you, your death it will break them." He said, smirk on his face.

You didn't know what to do, you couldn't fight, you couldn't scream, you couldn't think. Everything hurt, your mind, your body, your damn soul. "Does that scare you? Knowing you'll never see them again?" He asked. "Please," was all you could say. You felt hopeless, you were hopeless. "Oh honey, I won't make you suffer, I already got all the joy I need from watching you fall apart as I hunted you." He said, holding a knife in his hand. You let out a breath, not sure if it was from relief, fear, worry. You didn't know, nor did you have it in you to care. You don't remember much after that, you felt a sharp pain and heard a loud bang before everything went black.

Spencer and Hotch stood in the quiet hospital room, voices lowered in fear someone might hear them. "Is this the right choice?" Spencer asked. "It's the only choice.. he got away.. she won't be safe until we find her Reid." Hotch said. "I understand that.. but I can keep her safe." Spencer replied. "You can't keep her as safe as you want her to Reid and you know this. This will be the best decision to keep her and the team safe." Hotch said. Spencer felt the tears roll down his cheeks, eyes squeezing shut. "Can I say goodbye?" He asked and Hotch nodded. "She will only be gone until we find him.. remember that." Hotch said. "I know that.. I just don't know how long it will take.." spencer said. "Make it quick," Hotch said and Spencer nodded.

Spencer walked into the hospital room, the monitors beeping made his heart break. "Hey," he spoke softly, he kissed your forehead gently. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked at him. "Spence-" you started but he shushed you. "Don't talk.. just listen baby. I love you, more than anything.. but- but right now to keep you safe.. you'll have to be relocated." Spencer said, you didn't speak, you couldn't move but you heard what he was saying. "It'll only be for a while to keep you safe, okay? Then after that you'll be home, back in my arms. We'll watch movies, those stupid romcoms you love so much. And we'll celebrate all the holidays we'll miss, we will do everything, absolutely everything. Okay?" He said. You blinked away the tears to see him better. "But till then.. you need to be strong. You cannot contact us. No love letters, no post cards from all the beautiful places you'll visit. You can save them for when you get home, okay? Just.. stay strong for me.. we'll catch that son of a bitch and you'll be home before you know it. Okay?" He said. "Okay," you croaked out. "I love you." He said, kissing your chapped lips one last time. "I love you too." You whispered before he left.

The walk to the waiting room felt slow, agonizingly slow. So many thoughts running through his head as tears streamed down his face. His heart was broken and not for the reason the team was going to think. Hotch was stoic per usual. Once the two of them reached the waiting room it was like they knew. The look on Spencer's face sent Gracie straight into Derek arms with tears streaming down her face. JJs arms were wrapped around Spencer's in seconds, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all she could say. Spencer hugged her back as sobs wracked through his body. Everyone was broken and you weren't even dead.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader

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starchildrenofdustand-ashes · 5 months

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Cabaret at TheKit Kat Club Experience !!

So, I saw Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club at the Playhouse theatre on November 15 (11/15/2023) with Nic Myers as Sally and Jake Shears as Emcee.

Below the cut is where spoilers start lol: honestly the whole thing is super secretive- from the stage to the venue itself. So if you ever plan on seeing it live or have the opportunity to do so, you have been warned!

When you walk into the theatre there’s this awesome:

You will see before you descend the stairs; at the bottom of the stairs, they put a sticker on your phone :)

You’ll continue walking down the hall where the walls are white and covered with pictures all over of the actors past and present.

You probably pass some of the actors who are milling about, chatting, flirting, dancing playing instruments.

I was in the first row of the upper dress circle and god it’s tight up there. Definitely wish I’d payed a bit extra to be on the floor and to at least have room 😖

Also note; I don’t talk about Herr Schultz and Frauline Schneiderall that much in these notes, but that’s because their scenes are so sweet and straight forward. These two give you the Schneider and Schultz you’ve seen and you know you love; there’s nothing outlandish or left field that happens with these two like some of the choices with Sally and Emcee. The same can be said for Ernst and Cliff. Nothing wild has been changed with their characters. In fact, most of this will probably be me trying to decode the strange new take on the Emcee and The Kit Kat Club. Anyway! Here are my thoughts and stuff that stuck out to me!

(Also if you’ve seen this production with Eddie Redmayne or have listened to it and have a hypothesis— he makes this strange sound like he’s spitting? In a lot of the songs- I thought it maybe part of the orchestration, but I didn’t notice it with Jake Shears and chalked it up to Eddies character choices. So if you know what the sound is or can give me staging It would soothe my brain)

Willkomenn:

🍷 in Willkomenn, when the Emcee does his whole “comment ca va?, do you feel good” speil he paused after every time, as if to test what language the audience would respond to

🍷 He kept the “do you feel good- yeah I bet you do 😏” line even tho it wasn’t on the revival album🥹

🍷The way to tell Victor and Bobby apart is to lift their arm and stick your face in their armpits and take a big wiff. Bobby did not want his armpits sniffed and Emcee had to beg him

🍷 Bro I love Hermann; he was so stoic and dead inside- he just stood there and did the most basic version of what everyone was doing. He was also fully clothed lol

🍷When they sing the whisper verse, they were all posing in various positions and the Emcee crawled between their legs

Don’t Tell Mama:

🎀 When sally screams at the beginning, she was lying on her back throwing a tantrum

🎀 The Emcee is on stage for the final verse and he acts as Sally’s brother: when sally says the line, “if he squeals on me i squeal on him” they squeezed each others nipples

Perfectly Marvelous

💚When Cliff and Ernst are talking and Sally barges in, she’s wearing her coat, a beige and orange scarf, funky sunglasses and carrying a ton of luggage

💚at the end of Perfectly Marvelous, when Cliff says “besides I’ve only got one narrow bed,” the Emcee rises out of the circle in the center of the platform wearing the exact same thing as Sally: the coat the scarf and the glasses. Two Kit Kat Girls come up the same platform in a suitcase that looks just like the one Sally was carrying

💚 Nic Myers didn’t do an American accent

Two Ladies

👯‍♀️ The KitKatGirl who “makes thebed” puts on a hardware belt and does explicit things with a hammer while the other has a spatula. Or a whisk ,, The One That “Does The Cooking” goes behind Emcee and uses the whisk to “thrust” into him and when he says daily bread, she pulls out a baguette, she also fills out a whip lmao

👯‍♀️ During the instrumental break all the other Kit Kat Members come up through the stage wearing explicit things and doing explicit things to each other. The one that stood out the most to me was Helga jacking off to a copy of Mein Kampf— it was super chaotic and I don’t remember details

It Couldnt Please Me More:

🍍More often than not the sailor Kost was fucking was either Bobby or Hans- even referring to the former as such. Also, they refer to her as Fritzie explicitly so it’s cannon that Kost=Fritzie and not just an actress double casted.

🍍Before Kost runs into Schneider after letting Bobby out, Schultz is leaving Schneiders room and accidentally is trying to out her robe on instead of his jacket

Tomorrow Belongs to Me

* So Emcee comes on stage holding a box and is dressed in a robe and only a wig cap

* One by one, the member of the Kit Kat Klub put these dolls that are wearing brown suits with Blonde hair on the stage. They are standing militanty. very much providing Nazi imagery

* During the song, the figures go around the turn table while emcee is singing

* At the end of the song when he says the last line, he pulls out a blond wig and holds it in the spotlight

Money:

💸Money was the song I was most excited for because of the images I’d seen of the skeleton costume. I had a hard time figuring out why the skeleton, but it was cool nonetheless.

💸 the Emcee rises out of the middle of the floor, his clawed hands reaching out first.

💸 I watched Emcee legit drool on the stage (Groffsauce in Hamilton vibes) he was spitting those lines out so hard

💸 I don’t know how to interpret the staging of the song, the real star of the scene is the costumes, but I took it as the Emcee represented money? Everywhere he went the KitKat Girls followed, wailing and begging him and the surrounding audience for money.

TBTM (reprise )

* I mean. I feel like the staging for this song is always consistent and similar throughout all shows; the individuals singing with Cliff, Sally, Schultz and Sneider standing somberly. The emcee is usually eerily looking on and depending on the show is seemingly jubilant or looking wistful.

* In this, the Emcee rises out of the middle of the turn table wearing his outfit from money. He has a conductors stick and begins conducting them with a smile on his face.

* My sister said the Emcee is “If Art The Clown could talk” and Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. He goes form being the raunchy Emcee we’ve all come to love- I think the Emcee, no matter who plays him is kinda creepy, so the creepiness didn’t seem unusual- to an evil nazi

* But when we see him in money and onwards, he’s definitely giving Killer Clown- she was right, Art the Clown from Terrifier.

* The Art The Clown juxtaposition to when he appears bare faced during some songs was super interesting. It really feels like the idea of “The Nazi’s weren’t demons, they were people who did things we thought demons were only capable of,” and that’s what makes it terrifying. The clowning character is seen praising nazis and cheerfully conducting their songs- he really does seem like a force of evil that’s simply from hell. But then he talks off his makeup in the coming scenes and you’re reminding- he’s just a human who behaves like a demon and that’s terrifying-. Idk if I’m doing the best at explaining my analysis of this, but that’s what I was getting

Kickline

💃🏾The kickline is lively and the members of the Club are trying to hype up the audience before getting into formation

💃🏾They were all wearing red party hats so when the emcee comes on in his red Pierrot clown get up, he has the longest, pointed and most menacing looking hat.

💃🏾he also has a gun? Thing? He shoots a Nazi flag out of it

💃🏾 The Members of the club form a hakenkreuz shape around Emcee and he hand the flag to Bobby and they march off.

Married (reprise)

🧱 the scene before Married Sneider and Schultz are talking about the engagement. Emcee is slinking around the stage and he has something in his hands wrapped in a napkin. His movements remind me of a mime, or as Chelsea says, Art The Clown, the facial expressions with overdramatized emotion and fluidity

🧱 he slinks between Schultz’s and Sneider with a smile on his face and suddenly there’s a loud ass crash that makes- I shit you not- the entire theatre jump. The lights black out. When they rise back on, there is white confetti floating downward, to represent the broken glass

If You Could See Her

🦍Usually, the gorilla in this is dressed up and it looks more cartoonish, but to, this was just a straight up gorilla- (A really good costume) with absolutely no elements of humanity. No clothes, no slightly upturned mouth, no walking on two legs and absolutely no understand what was going on.

🦍The Emcee would address the Gorilla as if she was human, but she would only respond in an animalistic way like scratching her ass, sniffing Emcees ass or flat out ignoring him and doing her own thing.

🦍 The Emcee seemed to be back at his usually self- joking and less like a demonic force - he’s clowning and making the audience laugh and there’s the Jewish line at the end of the song (which?? I was kind of disappointed by. It didn’t give me shivers and I felt it was a bit rushed.) also people laughed, but it could’ve been a “I laugh at funerals bc it’s awkward,” and not because they actually found the situation funny. My sister hypothesized simple confusion for people who had no idea what was going on. I will agree that some of the Emcees choices are strange if you don’t know the plot/ haven’t read up on this revival before hand.

I Don’t Care Much:

🎙️ Next time Emcee is on stage he is wearing a brown suit and a blonde wig, no makeup on his face- he very much resembles the dolls that were placed on stage during TBTM

🎙️I don’t care much occurs after Sally and Cliff have an argument as usual. But after Cliff leaves Sally is getting dressed. She is putting on the same jacket and pants the Emcee is wearing

🎙️during the song the emcee is doing some weird puppet thing behind her and she’s mirroring the moves she’s doing. it was an interesting choice during this song, but I think it’s been my least favorite change. It was like she was on strings and he was controlling her. I guess it provided a good visual for the notion that the Emcee isn’t a person, rather a representation of the deteriorating culture of the the city as a whole.

🎙️ This song is good at humanizing the Emcee, especially in Alan Cummings revival; smeared makeup, track marks, slurred worlds and stilted motions. It really paints a picture of a human at the end of their rope. In this version it just solidifies that the emcee is the city of Berlin and the evils that are taking over (Which, goes in direct opposition to my previous theory on his costumes providing human- demon Nazi images but whatever I dont have the brain power to think harder about it)

🎙️ After this song Cliff gets beat up by Ernst. After the tussle, the nazi thugs are actually the members of the Kit Kat club, they are wearing the same coat as Sally and the Emcee. They finish Cliff off and take his coat away

Cabaret

🍷I mean. Damn. There’s not much to say here. Outstanding performance. Like there are performances from different actors on YouTube so you could watch those to see the blocking because it’s pretty much the same.

🍷 Nic Myers did an amazing job, I got full body chills

🍷 one critique I’ve heard is that it’s over directed and this song is the perfect example of it. As an actor and a director, I understand both sides,; I don’t see much individuality between the actors on YouTube vs Nic Myers because the staging is so specific. I will say, through my opera glasses, the emotion painted in her face couldn’t be replicated and I think that’s really where the nuances will lie- in their faces.

Finale

📸 The Emcee is back on the stage, in the same position as Willkomenn- it’s like this weird pose with his arms and legs bent (you can watch the Willkomenn performance in gram nortons show,, that’s the pose I’m talking about ((I’ve heard people say it’s supposed to look like a hakenkreuz ))the only difference is now he’s in his brown outfit with his blonde hair. Super eerie.

📸 All the characters are standing on the turn table and the Kit Kat Members are on the outer circle of the turn table wearing the same beige suit the emcee has on. The other characters are all wearing brown and there’s an eerie sense of uniformity.

📸 Then there’s the long ass drum roll as they continue to turn before the lights blackout.

#cabaret #cabaret west end #cabaret 2021 #cabaret at the kit kat club #eddie redmayne #jessie buckley #Jake shears #nic Myers #kander and ebb #cabaret revival #musical #cabaret musical #she reviews #my reviews

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babybatscreationsv2 · 2 years

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Attention

Marvel | Starker

Peter misses his daddy while he's in his meetings and he just can't take one more minute of it, but is it really right for him to interrupt...

For @sarcastich

Warnings and tags: daddy kink, public sex, embarrassment, cock warming, power dynamic, teasing, hesitance, codependency, praise kink

Tony's meetings were the worst. They ran for hours sometimes leaving Peter alone in Tony's office to wait. He could have waited at home, sure, but he hated being away from him. A couple of times he had sat in on the meeting, but it was always boring. And Peter was always horny.

His face burned as he walked down the hall to the meeting room. Did everyone know what he was going to do? They would all know by the end of the day for sure. Then again, it wasn't as if the whole building didn't hear him screaming whenever Tony fucked him in his office. They had already made their opinions about him, but what did it matter what anyone thought? No one could say a word about it.

Peter stared at the closed door. Daddy was just on the other side. He was just a few steps away from getting what he needed. Was it really okay? Maybe he could just go in and kneel on the floor beside him. He would feel safe and subby and that would be enough. Maybe Tony would pet his head and let him suck on his fingers. He didn't have to be too disruptive.

Peter knocked on the door and opened it just a crack. He heard the muffled talking on the otherside stop. Tony was at the far end of the table. He smiled when he saw him.

"There's my boy. Come in, sweetheart." Tony waved him over. All heads were turned toward the door.

Peter stepped through and closed the door behind him. He ignored the others at the table and made a bee line for his daddy. He was grateful when Tony nudged them back into conversation. Tony pushed his chair back and pulled Peter into his lap as he came close. He arms wrapped around him and his lips kissed his forehead.

Peter smiled. This was a little more than he'd hoped for, but he wouldn't argue. Still he couldn't help but hide his face in Tony's chest. He was warm and he smelled good and it felt safe. He liked how strong his voice sounded with his ear against his chest.

Tony pulled his chin up and kissed him. It was much too deep and intimate for polite company. It felt so dirty to be kissing like that with everyone watching, but his daddy was right. No one said a word. No one even mentioned Peter at all as if it were forbidden to acknowledge him. It was perfect. Even if Peter felt embarrassed, he'd never been safer than in his daddy's arms.

The meeting went on for a bit. Every now and then he got a kiss from daddy that made him smile. Then daddy's hand slipped between his thighs and started rubbing his cock. Peter whined and spread his legs. His hid his face against Tony's chest. He was already so hard and he couldn't feel enough through his pants. He rolled his hips and pushed against his daddy's hand. He squeaked when he heard someone behind him clear his throat.

"Problem?" Tony asked. Peter peeked up at his face. His eye brows were raised, a glare directed at someone down the table.

"Of course not, sir," they sputtered. Someone else quickly redirected the conversation.

Peter smiled. His daddy wouldn't let them be mean to him. It wasn't his fault he was so needy. How could he not be with a daddy like his?

Tony unzipped his pants and pushed his hand inside. The minute their skin made contact Peter's brain turned off. His mouth hung open and his eyes unfocused. He knew he looked like a slutty little idiot, but he just sat up higher on his knees so Tony could reach better. He had to hide his face in his neck now.

"Good boy," Tony purred in his ear.

"Daddy," Peter whimpered. He rocked his hips against his hand. Daddy's other hand rested gently against his neck, tipping his head back to look down at him.

"You're so pretty, baby. Look at you all flushed," he purred.

Spit pooled in his mouth and threatened to run over his lip. Everything was hazy with pleasure. Daddy's attention made everything feel too good.

Tony's thumb wiped away the drool on his lip. "You want to keep my cock warm until the meeting's over, sweetheart?"

Peter nodded without thinking. He couldn't get his pants off whithout standing up, but as soon as he did he was mortified. He faced away from the table and stood frozen until Tony's hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Look at me," he said. Peter did, then he smiled. He was okay. This was okay.

Licking his lips, Tony reached down and pulled his cock from his slacks. Peter dropped to the floor and crawled under the table between his legs. Daddy was so hard for him. His mouth watered. He sucked him all the way down, laughing silently at the noise he made. He got a little tap on his cheek in retribution. He looked up at his daddy, mouth full of his cock. He looked so strong and relaxed at the head of the table. The conversation above was mere white noise to his ears.

Peter suckled gently, keeping as much in his mouth as he could. This was what he needed. He let his head rest against Tony's thigh and settled into position. His fingers gently combed through his hair. Peter felt like he might fall asleep there.

The clatter above him startled him as everyone packed up and said their goodbyes. Maybe he really had fallen asleep.

When the room was silent, Tony looked down under the table where Peter started gently bobbing his head.

"Looking for more attention?" Peter hummed a yes, never stopping. "You've got more than one needy hole."

Peter pulled off his cock leaving a string of spit hanging from his mouth to his daddy's cock. Tony swore and hauled him up onto his feet to get his pants off.

Peter laughed. "Impatient, daddy?"

"Oh I'm the Impatient one?"

"You said I could," he pouted.

"Yeah I did," Tony smirked. "That was the best meeting I've ever had, too."

Peter blushed. He kicked off his shoes, pants, and underwear and climbed back onto his lap. Tony held his hips as he sat down on his cock. Peter moaned as he was filled up.

"So perfect for me. Such a good boy," Tony praised. "Make me cum, sweetheart."

Peter picked himself up feeling almost overstimulated already. He squeezed Tony's shoulders and bounced himself on his cock, whining feeling already on edge.

"Please, daddy- please, cum in me," he panted.

Tony groaned. He held Peter tight and thrust up into his ass. Peter whined as he was filled up. Tony grabbed him and stood, laying him back on the table, fucking him hard as he shot his load, making Peter scream and cum across his belly and meeting table beneath him.

Tony kissed his forehead and then his lips. "That's my good boy."

Peter smiled. His hands ran over Tony's arms. "We get to do this for all of your meetings now right?"

Tony grinned. "My lap is always available to you, baby."

#marvel #starker #prompt fill #public s*x #au fic #codependency

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queerofthedagger · 2 years

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So while one could definitely say that I might be biased when it comes to @atlantablack's writing because she's one of my best friends, let me start this by saying that 1) yes, but I'm also right, and 2) I loved her writing before we ever talked to each other; there's proof in the form of a horribly awkward comment on a fic that wasn't even for the Merlin fandom. Anyway, they're one of the most talented writers across all of their fandoms, and so I thought a list of my personal faves from their Merlin fics was in order - and what better time to post that than on her birthday?

It was honestly almost impossible to pick, but I've gone with a bit of variety so here's six fics - two Merthur, two Morgwen, and two Gen - that live rent free in my brain at any given time.

To Atlanta: I love you (to the moon and to saturn) and I'm so glad that I can call you my friend. Your writing is an absolute gift to this world, and I hope you never stop having marvellous ideas, and causing me great emotional harm with them. Happiest of Birthdays! <3

this raging sea, these summer storms

[Merlin/Arthur, G, 4,2k]

Summary:

“I have magic,” he whispers, turning to face Arthur. “I have magic, and I use it for you. Always for you.” He keeps his chin tilted up, his spine straight, and a storm stares back. Arthur’s eyes as dark and wild as the sea.

Why I rec this: Okay so this fic was a gift for me, but that only makes it even more perfect than it already is on its own. I absolutely adore magic reveals where Merlin gets to be unapologetic, and where Arthur gets to have some time to think things through and be (mostly) reasonable about it, and this fic is just so careful and gentle about it without making it unrealistic. The entire mood of the fic is like rain after a hot summer day, and every time I re-read it, it reminds me of why I love those idiots so much. <3

Quotes:

He’s not sure he could pinpoint when that look changed: when they’d stopped looking through each other and started looking at each other instead. He’s not sure when he started silently collecting the pieces of Merlin’s secret as if they were a treasure to be hidden carefully beneath his ribs until the time was right.

---

this graveyard of forgotten love

[Morgana/Gwen, M, 11,8k]

Summary:

Gwen has never fully managed to shake her love for the lady who had once sworn to keep her safe. Now locked in a tower by that same lady, she must face a truth she's long kept buried (even from herself).

An exploration of grief, anger, and the inability to let go of someone you once loved (even when you should).

Why I rec this: So, funny story - Atlanta is the one who dragged me kicking and screaming into the post-season 2 Morgwen brainrot, and this fic is a study in all the reasons of why she was successful. There are no excuses made or actions played down, Gwen gets to have agency and be furious and bitter and grieving (also as a side-note, Atlanta writes the best Gwen in this fandom. Seriously, all her Gwen-centric fics are an absolute blessing), and the way this fic ties all the people who are important to Gwen together and gives them their due weight is so, so perfect. It is fairly heavy (mind the tags), but it's 100% worth the angst, and the ending is definitely hopeful.

Quote:

Morgana snarls, moving forward until her face is so close to Gwen’s that she can feel the heat coming from her. The irony of the position, of Morgana mirroring the specter’s actions, does not escape her. (The heat of Morgana’s body straining towards her does not escape her.) “What would you have done?” Morgana asks again, low and furious, eyes boring into Gwen’s. Gwen swallows roughly, leaning back as far as she can. “I would have left you there,” she spits, the lie slipping out of her, bitter and furious. “I would have done nothing at all.”

---

the weight of one man's grief

[Lancelot & Merlin, G, MCD, 2,5k]

Summary:

He arrives too late to stop Arthur from doing what he’s always said he was willing to do, but arrives just in time to catch the last glimpse of golden hair disappearing into the veil and it feels for a moment as if the world has stopped existing. The entirety of his existence narrowed down to nothing but the veil slowly slipping closed and the after image of sunlight licking at golden hair. Feels as if there is nothing but his own thundering pulse and the earth beneath his feet screaming, screaming, screaming. Or perhaps that is his own voice being torn from his throat, the sound of his own magic ripping through the trees, racing toward the veil that is nearly closed. They would not take him. They would not. They do.

Why I rec this: If you want to cry, this is your fic. It's no secret that I love angst (and dealing each other massive emotional damage is the bedrock of Atlanta's and my friendship) but huh boy, this fic really takes it to another level in just about 2,5k words. I think if Arthur had actually walked through the veil, this is about what would have happened, and as usual, Atlanta's exploration and description of grief is the most flawless thing I've ever read. It's ugly, it's violent, and it hurts, and then there's a little special something that twists the knife when you're already bleeding out. It's one of my alltime Merlin-faves, and I don't think I'll ever get over it.

Quote:

The ground creaks and Merlin stares at Lancelot, the never-ending sky in his eyes, and he wants to laugh. Wants to laugh and laugh until his heart gives up from the force of his grief, his relief, that same question, repeating on a loop. If Arthur is the hero (dead and gone and irrelevant except for all the ways in which he is not), and Merlin the unbeatable, raging storm (one word away from wiping this city from the map), then what does that make Lancelot? What does that make him in this story?

---

a god at an altar, a beggar full of faith

[Merlin/Arthur, M, 4,9k]

Summary:

For every person that sinks magic beneath Arthur's skin like an offering, another tries to murder him, always furious when the magic harmlessly bounces off, Arthur held safe by the sacrifices of those who have died for him. He wonders if they knew that he was aware of what they were doing. He spends a lot of time wondering why they would protect him. His father has them murdered and still more come, always in disguise, sometimes only brushing past him in the marketplace, a finger to his wrist, a hand to his back, the sweet rush of protection burrowing beneath his skin and promising safety. He wonders how long it is until they decide to stop protecting the son of their butcher?

Why I rec this: Atlanta's prose in general is on its own level, but this fic? Oh my god this fic; it has such a specific vibe between Merlin and Arthur that I love to pieces, and that doesn't even start on how utterly perfect Arthur is in this. The premise is so, so good, and explores so well what would have happened if Arthur had reason to move away from Uther's influence much earlier. As if that wasn't already amazing on its own, I also love the relationship between Arthur & Morgana in this, and the way Uther gets his due. But also, the tension between Arthur and Merlin, man; Atlanta said 'Arthur has a competency kink rights' and then they fucking delivered.

Quote:

He hums, digs his fingers into Merlin’s waist. “Can’t see a damn thing but your magic,” he says and it’s so freeing, finally getting to admit this, to admit what he can do, that he laughs. “Haven’t been able to see a damn thing but your magic since the day you showed up, sweetheart.”

---

forging a path

[Morgana/Gwen, G, 3k]

Summary:

“You took my will from me,” She slowly swipes her thumb across Morgana’s cheek. “So now I will take what you love from you.” “I do not love anything,” Morgana spits, trying to pull her face from Gwen’s grasp and snarling when Gwen only tightens her grip. “You love your magic,” she whispers gently. - The White Goddess may have released Gwen from Morgana's hold, but it does well to remember that even the kindest of deities are fickle creatures.

Why I rec this: So, Gwen with magic has - also thanks to Atlanta - a special place in my heart. A vindictive, unforgiving Gwen does, too, but what I love most about this fic is the relationship between Merlin & Gwen; it's not a huge part, but in a way, that makes it even better, the absolute naturalness with which it takes place. That aside, though, the entire premise is just utterly brilliant, and pulling it off satisfyingly in 3k words is like a masterclass in writing. Again.

Quote:

“If you missed me so much, Morgana, all you had to do was come home.” Gwen continues walking forward until Arthur grabs her arm, preventing her from going any farther. Her eyes never leave Morgana’s, and there is something bright and furious sparking to life in her veins, begging to be let free. “Camelot was never my home,” Morgana spits, lip curling in disgust. “And I was not referring to Camelot,” she counters lowly, viciously pleased when Morgana’s nose flares wide, eyes lighting up with a shocked understanding.

---

from blood and bone (to earth and sea)

[Arthur & Morgana, G, 2k]

Summary:

Every time Morgana believes she’s rid herself of affection for Gwen and Arthur, that same traitorous part of her heart roars back to life, threatening to strangle her with guilt. She was done with feeling guilty, this is what she had told herself, and yet Arthur is screaming at his father as if he would give the kingdom up now all for one serving girl. That is to say nothing of the look on Gwen’s face when she’d met Morgana’s eyes. The betrayal shining in her eyes had cut deeper than any knife ever could. She had said she was done with this. The throne was hers, Uther corrupt, and she could not trust Arthur with it. She could not but— . . . “You won’t kill her,” she says calmly, voice ringing through the room. “You won’t banish her either.”

Why I rec this: So first of all, I'm cheating a bit because this is the first fic in a series, and you should definitely read the following three stories in it as well. The way Atlanta writes Morgana and Arthur is phenomenal, as are Morgana's relationships with Gwen and Merlin. It digs a lot into the betrayal that came with this episode, the one from the poisoning incident, and a lot of the grief and broken pieces between all of them that have been building for a while now. Not to mention that, once again, the writing is utterly mind-blowing, I don't know how she keeps doing that. This can technically be read as a standalone, but why would you?

Quote:

He meets her eyes evenly, sword still held between them, blue eyes clear and vast as the sea. They’ve always been polar opposites, the sea and the earth, always fighting for purchase as to who gets a claim of the land they both inhabit. She takes the sword.

---

Enjoy reading! And if you want to check out more of her brilliant works, here's their AO3 profile! ❤️

#merthur #morgwen #fic rec #merlin fics #rec list #atlanta tag #happy birthdayyyyy i love you goose <3

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 2 years

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Just me live blogging WBN

Oh no. The Marvel opening is really good here.

Oh no his face is so wonderful.

I really hope that at my funeral I too can be a creepy puppet. I'd just sing a little song tho.

Fire tuba. That can't be good for the tuba. Can you imagine opening the spit valve on that thing? Where do they keep the fuel?

I want his tie. That fashion.

Oh my god they have the cigarette burns in the upper right corner of the show before the scene changes! HOLY HELL! The callbacks to old school films is making my inner nerd scream.

Oh the people here bleed. I wish there had been a little more blood in moon knight. Not just the blood on Marc’s face. Though he wore it well.

Awwwwwwwwwwww

....explode our way out of here...

Little spin!

oh no my heart

Ted!

.....explode us out of here, huh. Yeah he's....he's off to a good start.

TED! A lovely name.

OH MY GOD. He's an idiot.

my heart

Oh the transformation scene is so beautiful. The flashing lights and wow

Oh no puppy...

The markings on his face in the transformation are amazing

The fight scenes are amazing and the gore is actually done so very well.

Elsa is a badass and I wish to know more about her

Sad Puppy sounds

Awww Ted here for his puppy

He made him coffee!

(Also that color transition was beautiful)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh How do they only give us 54 minutes of this! WHHHYYY

Ending art is pretty

FEIGE GIVE US THE CROSS OVER WE DESERVE YOU MONSTER

Yup. Thanks. Thanks for that. I should watch moon knight next, huh? Is that what you recommend? You recommend that I watch Moon Knight since I enjoyed that, do you? YOU KNOW SO MUCH AND SO LITTLE AT THE SAME TIME. Yup. Lovely Steven there inviting me right back in.

I AM EMOTIONAL AND THIS END CREDIT GUITAR IS WONDERFUL

I want him to play the guitar with Jake.

Sing a spanish duet. fuuuuck

#WBN #Spoilers #Great now I need more and will never get it #I am so upset #someone fill the void #Gonna just go curl up now #Jack Russel #Little puppy #he's so smoll #He's like my little doggie (who snored loudly through the whole thing)#FUCK

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alphateamsfinest · 1 year

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@superiordna didn't enjoy his gift. “You never did learn to play your part with any dignity.”

Turning his hand, the split leather is revealed. Cleaved from the lowest carpal bone up to the wedding finger, the blood that stained her knife and the state of his glove is all that remained of her defiance, for if there were ever a wound it had already been made whole. Each black finger is given a tug, slipping over the blood until his hand is free.

Jill’s resistance was a scientific marvel. Her veins overflow with a drug cocktail, providing her a wealth of power at the cost of her volition to Wesker. Still she persists. The sheen of the lab lights glitter on his shades, indirectly fixing on her as he began to smirk, cockeyed and wretchedly pleased for there was no better test subject in his imagination.

In a blink he was upon her, his blood smothering her mouth, jawbones gripped by heat and strength transcendent of humankind, her feet dangling off the floor. Long strides carried her to the plummeting edge of the platform, where below endless pods of other human experiments were housed. “Here is my gift to you.”

She is chucked from the ledge down toward the next floor. As she plummets the device latched into her ribs surged, a dosage that she will surely be feeling for days to come. Wesker looked on, turning away before the end. The impact couldn’t kill her, not with her capabilities, even if her landing was maladroit. This inevitably bored him to watch. He would come collect her, in whatever state she was in, later on.

Even without P30 coursing through her veins, Jill could tell that she was getting better, getting stronger. Fighting your enemy daily, fighting, learning, adapting.

As he carries her hands hit the joint of his elbow, and she kicks, Jill does her very best to get him to just put her down. Her chest is heaving, knowing of the incoming pain, of the incoming horror that is about to happen.

Some days Jill wishes Wesker would just kill her, release her from this- but she knows that he's too much of a sadist, of an opportunist to grant her that sweet release.

Jill lands and fuck- these heels are honestly part of what kills her landings. Used to boots and not these damnable heels, falling a story and landing- it sends sharp pain through her feet, ricocheting up her ankles and into her knees.

That bordering-on-inhuman scream rips its way from her throat, pupils dilate. Her teeth clench and she's breathing hard, spit hits the ground as she tries to fight it but oh- the device in her chest doesn't stop. This isn't her normal dosage of course it isn't its punishment. Punishment that will rob her of her ability to speak, of her ability to control her own body. Despite the pain radiating through her ankles, her limbs- she stands, an obedient soldier. Doesn't even wipe the blood from her face, or fix the mussed hair, the only show of the change is the flickering around her eyes, the slight microscopic fluttering to show the pain that she's in, the overwhelming power of P30 coursing through her veins.

Jill has no capacity for time here. Seconds, minutes, hours- none of it matters once P30 is involved. All she knows is the never-ending pain, the way that her body rewires itself not for its own sake but for another. She will wait here, the ever-obedient soldier, until the next time she can fight it- her last sign of fight being the lone tear that drips down her cheek, streaking the blood on her face.

#superiordna #t. i don't mind a little detective work #v. Perfect Specimen #[Merry Christmas to Jill you're getting your ass kicked]

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thefangirltreehouse · 6 months

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spider-man two, thoughts (spoilers below).

this is literally just spit-balling

harry as venom isn't a plot i hate. the way insomniac likes to craft their stories primarily around the emotional baggage of established relationships that peter (and miles) has. fighting for and against your terminally ill best friend with pretty bleak execution results is far more interesting to me than fighting a character who's no more than a missable footnote in the original game. harry as venom isn't something i'm gunning for in the comics but it works for insomniac.

i'm so glad that insomniac really leaned into peter and mj's dynamic and it was nice to see her as more than just the doting girlfriend.

i mean, darin de paul is just a national treasure. in what world does the man that plays ardyn izunia play triple-j.

speaking of final fantasy xv, king regis you bitch! how dare you stab peter. i cannot believe we have two caelum's in one spider-man game.

i'm so happy they integrated hailey into the main supporting cast (also playable?!) but when did she find out about miles?

mj i get, but i feel peter moved on far too quickly from the fact he nearly killed his girlfriend. and on that note, literally just stands and watches the scream transformation. i know they're trying to keep it together considering peter's experience with the symbiote but like, i would've been pissed at harry.

rio and miles dancing at the gala was the most adorable thing. (especially as someone who grew up with a single-mum).

they literally don't explain how venom gets his name

"show them your manhood!" / "yes sir - wait, what?!"

young peter's look just confirms disney / marvel wanted the face change to represent the mcu because that is literally tom holland's face.

i actually didn't think yuri's performance could get any better, it did especially once peter has the symbiote off.

the music during the venom fight with peter at midtown is incredible.

i obviously knew he wasn't going to die but i legit cried when pete got stabbed.

i understand insomniac really want you to use the symbiote suit but peter's lower-level unlocked suits are low-key hot garbage. even as someone who doesn't mind the militarized, tech suits the choices were so mid. i didn't get the suit i really wanted until after i bet the story. i ended up using the raimi suit which i never used in the original game as i don't like that suit but it was the only normal looking suit that wasn't native to insomniac as i don't like their peter suits.

miles' were better but a lot of them seemed to blend together. his endgame suit is actually my favourite (but with the red, purple and blue ombre lining - which i'm annoyed i couldn't even use the swatch in the finale).

had quite a handful of restarts and crashes in 23hrs play-time.

kinda wish we could've seen young!mj with peter and harry.

miles telling harry that he doesn't care if he's peter's best friend, he's still going to kick his ass was great.

i feel like the plot beats for this game overall were kinda predictable in that kraven was the early game bad guy, pete gets the symbiote suit from harry, harry takes it back and becomes venom all with the end result of norman being pissed at spider-man(s) for harry's probably bad outcome. that said, i genuinely have no guesses for structure of the next one and i doubt they're going to make harry a 'villain' again.

i don't think they'll use carnage in dlc, especially when yuri said it might take "years" to track him down, but i also don't know if he'll be enough for the finale as it might - at least gameplay and conceptually - feel like a venom rehash.

this just me on a tangent so feel free to skip. based on what i said, as someone not super familiar with carnage outside of specific media, the problem i have with him in relation to venom is the same problem i have with 'the batman who laughs' it makes the former feel less threating in direct comparison (which will happen when you cut to carnage after immediately having venom as a main antagonist one game prior), especially when venom is brock rather than peter as the host, because there's internal conflict with peter (which can be argued with tbwl's to some extent). carnage, in basic terms is bat-shit venom with zero redeeming qualities and i worry that for a medium like this he will feel derivative. the joker and the venom shouldn't feel less dangerous, especially now that it feels like venom has taken on anti-hero and carnage has become what venom was. like what happened in cruella. disney tried to make cruella likable, so emma stone basically played 'disney: harley quinn' and emma thompson played cruella.

this is oddly specific but i feel laura bailey is like the only woman in gaming that goes for the scream. and i always watch these games (cyberpunk in particular) and i'm like "girl scream, let out that guttural scream because i know that's exactly what's i'd be doing in that situation because this shit is terrifying." the only other time i've properly seen it done was also by laura bailey when she played fetch.

i actually don't know if we'll get another in-between game because i feel like the "play as miles'" itch has been scratched. meaning there's no need to fill that void as until his spin-off we couldn't play as him, now we can.

but if we do, could potentially see a silk, miles team-up to take down carnage.

mj's stealth missions are terrifying. her section under the tunnel with peter should’ve been longer

gutted there's no ng+ yet.

my bisexual queen is thriving.

getting the spider-bots was really the only fun thing to collect.

we’ll probably see gwen in the next game.

the sheer amount of detail on felicia's face

i can’t not hear wally in any of jason spisak’s roles.

“i don’t know what it is, but i just love this spider-bot.” - peter (about the spider-girl spider-bot)

vulture, electro and shocker really didn’t need to be killed completely off-screen. but i feel like they might’ve lost their rating if they weren’t. it’s just a bit strange that nobody noticed, especially pete that multiple high-profile raft inmates went missing?

people are being weird as fuck about cindy and peter. the girl is clearly a minor.

i booted up the first game to replay it, yeah. i still don’t like peter’s new face.

felt like there was half an act missing. could’ve done with one more agent venom mission, perhaps they can’t save vulture or electro. kinda felt like they needed a ‘he really is taking them out one by one.’

could’ve done with venom’s arc being a little longer.

miles’ arc was incredible and i loved watching him team-up with mj.

the black suit with the blue and red highlights from the nineties cartoon?!

speaking of, mj’s outfit during the zoo mission is also a call back

reed richards is defo getting a cameo in the next game and maybe tony on a phone call. i’d also love a nudge-nudge side-quest for deadpool.

i know it’s an emotional scene but i spat out my drink when i saw they changed the pic of harry from the old game to his new design in peter’s garage.

“i think we should get them” the line delivery on that is immaculate, like thank you captain obvious.

i’ve had a bit to linger on this but, there’s a bit of a disconnect between harry wanting the suit and getting it back. i think there had to be just a bit more push with peter specifically. i get he’s a nice guy but we needed to see a bit more passive aggressive harry brewing in the desperation for the symbiote.

watching a playthrough i realised venom got his name from oscorp / dr. connors as there’s a container with the name “vnm” when peter turns connors human again.

i don't want a venom spin-off and it feels like the only people who do want it is to take venom for an hour's joy-ride (until the gimmick wears off) or eddie brock stans that feel jilted by insomniac. i'd much rather get straight to the finale because i don't want to have to buy a playstation six just because some randomers want an eddie simulator first.

chameleon is absolutely going to be dlc.

how did mj get her motorbike back from the tunnel?

predictions for the next game:

electro isn't dead, primarily due to the fact that max may have became pure energy to escape kraven.

cindy, miles and black cat team-up mission.

may is hinted at towards the end of the game.

madame webb is getting something.

if carnage is in the third game and not two's dlc, he'll be the opening act villain (pseudo-kraven).

they'll tease hobgoblin - harry or not. (i could genuinely see harry becoming hobgoblin to help take down otto and green goblin, if it's norman).

peter might die, but i doubt it.

if harry dies, it'll be half-way through the game. i will actually kill myself tho.

i low-key want spot to be in the game or dlc but i don't think they'll do that purely because of spider-verse but you can tell a lot of insomniac grew-up on the nineties show, so it might be a possibility. (most of my knowledge for spider lore exists in that show and the various film franchises because the only spider comics i own is one 'noir' trade and a handful of 'the superior foes of spider-man'.)

i mean, they also could have miles go after spot, which could be fun.

HOLY FUCK! WAIT! HARRY AS GREEN GOBLIN COULD BE AN HOMAGE ARC TO MARY JANE IN LIMBO BUT EVEN MORE ANGSTY CAUSE THAT SERUM IS DEFO GONNA MAKE HARRY PSYCHO - I ACTUALLY NEED TO SEE IT BECAUSE THAT EPISODE IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY CORE MEMORIES.

the delivery of “i think we should get him” is immaculate

someone mentioned this on tvtropes, but stark industries bankrolling f.e.a.s.t is not a bad idea.

fisk will probably be back in side mission capacity or dlc.

#Spider-Man 2 #marvel’s spider man #Spider-Man ps5 #peter parker #miles morales #mj watson #harry osborn

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mnm-inc-miles · 2 years

Photo

DALLAS X RAINN – JULY 2022

A bounding of my hands.

Rain.

The pounding in my head.

Pain.

Don’t give up.

The mantra of my life the last couple of weeks. Somehow, they found me. Despite my identity change. Come to think of it, choosing to be an actor and turning out successful to say the least, was not exactly keeping a low profile. I had tried, for a year to avoid acting, but failed. I was drawn to it, it was in my blood to perform. There was no escaping it.

But why now? How after thirty or so years? I thought maybe because I was slightly more “famous” now that I had Marvel money…but even that was a few years ago. So even that didn’t feel like it made too much sense.

Inhale.

Try to keep it together.

Hold it...

Just don’t fall apart.

Exhale.

The door swung open violently as it always did. A younger man came over and smacked me hard across the face. “Are you ready to talk now?”

I shook my head, “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” another blow to the face. It hurt more than ever because it had finally gone raw from all the abuse. I was fairly numb to the pain, it wasn’t a stranger to me. It had been such a long time but once it became constant the past crept up fast. Funny how much your thoughts rifle through the tragedies in your life when you’re devoid of hope. I guess that’s not funny. But…when it hurts you laugh and maybe trick yourself in to believing it is…

“Tell me the truth. What happened that night?”

I sighed and shook my head. Any words that I might say would only be met with violence. That was the pattern, and now the trauma of my childhood was taking over. I was drawing into myself, shutting down. Words were becoming lost before they even hit my throat, stuck somewhere in the pit of my stomach with the many knots that continued to grow.

“I’m talking to you.”

“I don’t…” Smack. I shook my head and spit out some blood. My breathing was heavy.

“Start again.” I shook my head, too afraid to speak. He kicked me hard in the side and left. I let my head hang low as I tried to stabilize my breathing. Closing my eyes I wished for a miracle. Something…someone had to save me, or at the very least, just end it. I started to cry because that was the first time I felt like I wanted to die since I was a child. I was giving up. I was so reverted in my mental state that my hope was gone and my desire to push on was dying. I slumped further down until my elbow caught my body and I collapsed to the ground. Tears continued to fall until I finally fell asleep.

The sound of shouting.

Pop, pop.

The vibration of feet above.

Ka-boom.

The smell of smoke.

My eyes opened wide and I looked around, trying to get a bearing on my surroundings. Trying to understand what was happening. I saw smoke begin to billow in under the door. The house was on fire, there was no doubt, and no one was going to save him. Don’t give up. I shook my head and couldn’t bring myself to stand yet. I felt defeated. I watched the smoke grow and I inhaled a good puff and coughed. I shook my head and stood immediately. I will not die here.

“Help!” he screamed. “Help, someone!! Help me, someone’s in here…” there was a small window in the basement but it was underground. No one would hear him. “FUUUUCK!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “HEEEEEELP! FUUUCK HELP!” and he resorted to screaming as loud as he could.

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zv5x · 2 years

Note

Hello!! can I please request yandere dano!riddler fic/headcannons (anything is fine) where he accidentally kills the reader

Sorry if you don't write angst feel free to ignore this 💞

Ashes to Ashes (Yan!Riddler • Reader Oneshot)

i do write angst! as much as it hurts my tiny heart i do (i love this pic of him btw it's so cute so we're all gonna look at it thanks) (sry for unoriginal title btw my brain works at a mile an hour) tw for use of the yandere trope, murder (reader dies), angst, ect)

At some point in time, Edward's body began shaking. Perhaps it was caused by the rage that was overflowing throughout his bloodstream, or perhaps it was something as insignificant as the coldness of the room. However, one thing was for certain: you were shaking too. Were you scared? Regretful? Something else he couldn't pinpoint at the time? It didn't matter. Not in the slightest.

He just couldn't get over what happened. He couldn't get over the feeling of his heart dropping as he watched you so heartlessly try and leave him, the way his eyes widened from the cafe he was currently in as he rushed to pay for his food and follow you, gaining the attention of many as he carelessly slammed his money down on the table and running out of the facility. He got there just in time to open the front door right as you began to try and mess with the lock. It was sickening, he would have asked you to explain yourself if he wasn't so heartbroken. He had no words to say, and the shocked look on your face said enough.

Tying you right back down to the bed wasn't too hard of a task, and neither was ignoring your cries of terror and pleas of mercy as he let the ropes rub against your skin with such burning tightness. He cared not for your agony, as his red vision didn't even allow him to see it for himself. Edward didn't take the time to marvel at you like the first time he brought you to his place. All he could do was allow the flooding tears of frustration to spill and scream at you for an explanation of your betrayal. All those times the two of you spent together while you were here, whether it was the two of you watching television while he gives you his own analysis of whatever's happening or just cuddling on the couch, were you only pretending? Were you only pretending when you first cuddled back into him as he hugged you? Were you lying when you first told him you loved him?

Grabbing something he didn't even care to look at and slamming it on the ground. He thought hopelessly as you flinched and cried.

Did you even ever love him at all?

He asked you, and of course you let yourself ramble desperately about how much he apparently meant to you. How it was just a mistake, how you really did love him. He hated seeing you as a liar, but apparently he was wrong about your lack of corruption.

However, this time, it wasn't your fault. This time, someone's own corruption wasn't their fault. He understands. He finally understands. He laughed as he finally came to his realization as you laid stunned in your fixed position. He understands why you were so desperate to escape him. Somehow, from the confines in his safe home, the officials had gotten ahold of your mind. Edward shook his head. He should have never given you permission to watch television without his guidance.

He, the Riddler, is the only man willing to stand up to their corruption. To look it right in it's eyes and spit in it's face. He was sure they all hated him, because he called out their games for just what they were. What better way to get at him other than arresting him than to mold the brain of his beloved? It was truly evil, but Edward was not the least but shocked at them going to such measures.

This was halfway his fault though. He gave you too much access to the outside world. He hated admitting blame just as much as he hated being in the wrong in the first place, but to save your mind he had to do something. He had to cut you free from the vile chains that binded you. Figuratively, or literally.

Your cries of pain were truly enchanting, spilling from your throat like a cruel but loving song. He knew you were thankful for what he was doing, he knew that for every spot of blood that coated the once white sheets, that another string was sliced from your arms and legs. Those street rats would extort you no longer, and he told you that with a loving gaze as you looked at him with pained eyes and an expression locked in agony.

First he said he loved you, as the blade gently danced across your body. Then he screamed it, as he began to slam it into wherever his hand wanted to go. So lovingly, he thrust you into an early grave, all with a smile in his eyes. He adored you, didn't you know? Only a lover most truthful would trust himself with bringing upon your demise, even if unintentionally so. He loved you. Did you know that? Will it be your last thought? He didn't think it would be. There's so much more to figure out, you know. It's not your time yet, and that's why he's saving you.

Soon, you stopped struggling. He knew you would eventually. You were still awake though, for sure. Your eyes were open and wide, along with your mouth. Still, in return of ceasing your cries, you decided to speak no longer. That was alright. You're still in shock that someone who resides in such a filthy city would do so much to preserve the purity and free will of another. For now, allow him to rest his head upon your nearly completely open chest. Perhaps he'll rest his blade upon his own arm, mix his own blood with yours, so then you'll truly be bonded forever. Oh, the romantic activities he'll suggest when you awaken to your normal self. You'll be overjoyed.

The lines of love and violence were forevermore blurred, a brutal murder acting as the legacy of two star crossed lovers, torn apart by many but bravely restored by one.

Smiling, Edward rests upon his bed of mutilation, knowing with an unclear mind you'll never leave him again. Perhaps he'll realize what that truly means when the high of the kill is over. When that moment comes,

ashes to ashes, his angel.

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little-fics · 3 years

Text

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

2K notes · View notes

claireunoia · 3 years

Text

* ･ﾟ𖡼 ︎ִֶָ⁀➷

𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗬 𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 | 𝗻. 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗳𝗳

「 SYNOPSIS 」 / the day finally comes where your deepest fantasies comes true ♡︎.

「 PAIRINGS 」 / milf!natasha x fem!reader

「 WORD COUNT 」 / 1306

「 WARNINGS 」 / SMUT, sexc blonde!milf!natasha, age gap (reader is of age), ma’am kink, dirtttyyy talking, oral, fingering, use of a lottt of pet names, just filth, overstimulation, language, porn with little plot, d/s dynamics, cheating, cum eating (i do not condone!) that’s it?

➪ author’s notes : ❝heyy babes, i am trying out a new writing format since i thought it’ll be a good time for a change because now i’m lookin at it, i hate how i use to set up my fics lmao. so if it looks weird or sum just ignore it k? and y’all im so sorry for this filth, like i was just so horny and wrote all of this in one setting once again. anyways i hope y’all enjoy as always i love u <3 ❞

part two

masterlist / navigation

you don’t know how it came down to your close friend’s downright drop-dead gorgeous mother fucking into your pussy roughly with her manicured fingers in the marvelous kitchen of her home.

with your friend in her bedroom continuing to watch the movie you both were supposed to watch and her working husband gone to work, it was just you and your long-term crush natasha. from her striking face, the russian dialect she’ll speak to you on a day to day bases and just the way the older woman carried herself pulled you in the first time you’ve ever stayed a night over. you’ve always fantasized about this moment, dreamt about it, you’ve touched yourself about it. and nat knew this, the woman had caught you once doing it when you thought no one was home. saw the way your pathetic little fingers tried to get yourself off, and heard the little moans of her name being called.

you thought you were being secretive, “such a dumb little baby” natasha always thinks to herself.

natasha had her other hand clasped tightly around your throat and pulled back, causing an even bigger arch to form on your back. your hands gripping the marble island countertop so hard your first started to turn a shade lighter. her finger speeding up by the second as she continued to pound both of her digits into your pussy from behind. “my fuckin’ goodness babygirl, look at you” she whispers with a groan of her own leaving from her as she stared at your broken, blissed out face with absolute hunger and desire. “this wet pussy of yours is squeezing my fingers so tight, honey”

the way her low, gravely voice kept spitting the most obscure things in your ear was making you so much wetter than you ever were before. you're high approaching you so fast and intensely with mighty speed. natasha could sense this with the way she kept feeling the walls of your core pulsating and by the way she felt and saw how your thighs were beginning to shake and twitch against her own. “is my little slut going to cum for me? you’re gonna make a mess all over me and the floors?”

you whimper loudly, too loudly. your eyes tightly squeezed shut, your mouth opened widely in a silent scream. you head nodding frantically to her words. “p-please ma’am”

natasha chuckled and then suddenly yanked away from you completely. her fingers absolutely soaked with your essence, she rubbed the excess onto your puffy folds before dropping away from you once more. the incoherent whine and words spilled from you as soon as she left your pussy empty, which only made you recieve a little spank on the flesh of your ass. before spinning you around to face her, the same fingers she just had in your pussy were softly grasping your chin to make you look at her in the eyes

“if you make your ma’am cum, she’ll fuck you properly. okay? can you do that for me, you pretty little doll?”

you nodded your head quickly in obedience. ready to please the older woman in a heartbeat. you hear natasha coo, her soft, plump pillow-like lips placing a kiss at your lips before ordering you to get down on your knees. you followed the command with grace, your hands in your lap as you stared up at the woman with shiny, doe eyes. “you’re such a good little girl for me, honey. now how bout’ you take my panties off and lift up my nightgown” you listened once more and began to remove her black, lacy underwear. you then lifted her nightgown up to reveal her mound to your awaiting eyes, keening softly at how wet she is.

“you see how I'm dripping for you, pretty baby?” you nod at her words with a lick of your lips.

“you’re going to have to make it snappy, little one. you don’t want my daughter to come down and witness her friend eating her mothers pussy now do you?” you immediately shake your head which natasha smirked at, “get to it then”

and with that you drove into her. you weren’t experienced when it came to eating someone out due to the fact you’ve never done it before. natasha could tell you didn’t but you caught on quickly to all the right places to make her moan and wither which was impressive. “there you baby, suck on my clit— yes, just like that” you followed her soft commands, letting her guide you to her preferred pleasure however she wants. your glistening lips sucking her little button into your mouth diligently, pulling back to lick at her folds and leaking opening before going back to her bulb.

you can see the blonde haired woman play with her clothed, hard nipples through her nightgown, her head thrown back as she grunted. a bunch of jumbled russian words exiting from her lips as she moaned at the pleasure you’re giving her, the feeling of your warm mouth lapping her up with eagerness quickly built up her high in a heartbeat. “fuck you’re so good, my pretty baby. don’t stop eating your ma’am’s pussy, you're gonna make me cum so hard honey” she then grabs a handful of your hair, running her hands through the strands before unexpectedly tugging on it harshly from a particular suck you inflicted on her clit.

“please, please cum ma’am. please? i want it”

natasha chuckles breathlessly at your whines, the sounds making her whole body flutter and heat up. “yeah? how badly do you want me to cum all over that gorgeous little face, honey?”

you whine against her pussy, causing the older woman's legs to twitch and spasm like how yours was earlier. you pull back away from her core momentarily, “so badly, ma’am. please give it to me, i’ll always be your good girl, please?” you begged and pleaded over and over, little whimpers leaving you as you continue to pleasure the woman in front of you. your sweet, sweet pleads and promising words are what has pulled nat over the edge once and for all. the woman groaning and tugging on your hair as she orgasmed. as she did so you continued your assault on her pussy but more softer, trying to prolong her orgasm as much as you can. ignoring your own need and weeping cunt, hers and her pleasure the only thing on your mind.

when nat finally came down from the intense high she had to physically remove your head away from her overstimulated clit you kept licking and sucking at, you just couldn’t get enough.

“you tasted so good, ma’am” you whisper as your blown-out irises bored into her own. the whole bottom half of your face glistening and shiny with the woman's arousal, making natasha groan once more. that sight alone could make her cum again.

natasha then lifted you by your shoulders so you were standing straight in front of her. her mouth immediately attacked yours aggressively, almost as if she was cleaning her cum out your mouth. her tongue messily dominates yours quickly, giving you one last kiss before pulling you away. a singular string of saliva keeping you both connected.

natasha grinned widely, her pearly teeth pulling her bottom lip in between to bite. she wiped at wet spot on your chin with her thumb where her essence laid before she then took it to swipe it onto your bottom lip. “you made me feel so good, pretty girl. i promised to fuck you and i will keep that, you deserve it. how about you finish yourself off in the bathroom and make sure y/f/n is sleep and come into my room when your ready”

“i’ll be waiting for you”

──── ੈ♡˳ ༘ ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘°────

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introloves · 3 years

Text

@virgoamajiki: hhnngggg no thoughts just boxer!bokuto fucking you senseless after seeing the other boxer he was supposed to fight that night flirting w/ u just to rile him up and throw him off his game.

— soft dom! bokuto + boxer! bokuto + mentions of harassment in the beginning + overstimulation / dumbification + size kink + comfort + praise + breath play + squirting + fluffy end + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + f! reader

— word count; approx 2.6k

— part of my boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 1

he can’t blink back the images of you during the fight. the near deafening roars of his name all fadded into nothingness as he stalked towards his opponent- bokuto was dead set on putting him down.

the prick had really managed to get under his skin at the weigh in, picking you out- pointing directly at you and asking why you didn’t hop on over, he said you’d be better taken care of.

you’d sat there, wide eyed, clearly scared and taken back by his words. you only spared him a glance. instead turning with wide eyes at your boyfriend, now scared for the other man. frantic eyes shot up to look for his own- it was clear what you wanted, you looked scared and your face held a look that said;

“bo, please don’t.”

and usually, that look would disarm him completely- but not now- not now when he can see the way your eyes watered and lips trembled at the words.

he is sorry for not looking at you right away, sorry for not giving you the comfort you need-

but he’s not sorry for lunging over to the other side, barreling straight past staff that looked minuscule compared to his towering form. microphones clashing onto the floor with clear intent.

it’s complete chaos, bokutos manager grabbing him, holding him back down onto the seat, hissing in his ear that he’ll have a chance to go at him, “in the ring.”

you sit, dazed by the clamor and rapid snapping of cameras that bathe the two of you like a shower of pure light.

but he sits back down, hand clamped over your thigh, squeezing you, using your body as a stress ball. he can’t even look at his opponent, amber eyes focused on nothing more than your trembling knee- koutarou truly thinks he might kill him.

when he finally enters the ring, it doesn’t take long for the bastard to get dropped. its almost comical how short the match ends— usually bokuto would have put a little more show into it, letting him take a couple of hits before handling it, dragging it out to fluff his ego, showing everyone that he was the king, but not now.

as soon as his opponent is down, spread out on the white canvas- he steps once towards the body— pushed away by the referee in panic with the way he looms over him a little longer than necessary. the referee looking over at his teams side, shoving him back into his corner before calling the end of the match.

he lets his body get shoved into his corner, scoffing at the way the man lays there... pathetic.

bokuto doesnt even react to the roars of the crowd- walks past his team and into the locker rooms.

it feels like it takes forever to get back to you, normally you’d be at the ringside, but for this round he didn’t want you there and you not being able to do that, especially for a fight like this has you on edge. waiting for your koutarou to come home. the tension is almost suffocating when you finally hear the door slam closed.

you know hes not mad at you, thats not who the shake of the house is directed at. bokuto has always been a gentle giant with you— an overexcited, loving, and sweet giant.

he walks straight into the room, tugging off his shirt, shorts, leaving a trail of clothes as he makes a beeline right to you. there’s a deep want, need to have you, it feels like someone’s pressing down onto his chest- a tight ball of... anger and fear swirling around there.

it softens when he see’s you though, cuddled up on the bed, eyes lidded as you smile at him, welcoming him home. when he touches you, your body still warm from an almost sleep, he feels the sharp edges of anger melt away. there was no need for him to angry or scared at the words his opponent had thrown your way- he wasn’t the one about to fuck you to sleep... but the small tingle of fear and anger didn’t leave him completely.

“baby.” you murmur, hands outstretched to bring him into your space, the big body of his instantly melting down to your form, elbows perched on either side of your head- trapping you completely in.

“saw you drop him... first round.” voice heavy with lust and want, he was so strong and powerful and all yours. legs drop down onto the bed to let him in, ready for him, waiting for him.

“yeah, had to.” bokuto responds back, whispering it against your lips before he kisses you, licking into your mouth with heavy strokes of his tongue, all but tracing his name onto the front of your teeth.

“he scared you didnt he?” he growls, hissing at the way your heat wiggles to find his cock. bokuto shifts to hold the weight of his upper body on just one arm, slipping a hand down to tug your bottoms off.

“mhm.” you whimper back, gripping onto his shoulders, body jerking with every pull.

“did you see how i took care of him, pretty thing?” kou spits, pulse quickening at the wetness that meets his knuckle, trailing the back of his hand up your cunt before slipping a finger against your folds, splitting them open to briefly glance at your exposed pussy.

“fuck- course you did, thats why you’re so wet, huh?”

you cant really say anything, because he was right- seeing him knock that man out with one punch, straight to the jaw, sent heat flooding through your veins, proof of it formed in the shape of pure slick painting the outside of your cunt, between your thighs, pooling in your bottoms. its kinda silly, he knows what he does to you, knows you love watching him in his element, eyes hardened and face laxed in total concentration and an air of cockiness to him when he steps in the ring. he knows you love it, cause you’re always drooling into your panties when he comes to you after a match.

“real wet.” he marvels once more, sinking a finger all the way down to the knuckle and all you can do in response is open your legs wider, tilting yourself up to show him how ready and receptive you were for him.

“good girl.” his voice is tight and low- something like a growl with the way you move against his one finger. its enough to snap the string of self restraint he had, pure unbridled energy bouncing off him as he departs from you- just for a second, to kiss you harshly.

its a mix of tongue, spit, and teeth- strings of your passion still hanging from between the two as he leans back to look at your form, wiggling around in need of him.

its okay, he thinks, he’ll give you what you want.

and he does, doesn’t take long for him to grab the base of his thick and heavy cock, letting it slap against your cunt a couple times before squeezing the head of him inside- nice and snug. it makes him lightheaded, he cant think of anything but you- a fever crawls up his sculpted back, a need to just sink in and fuck you silly, but he wants something from you first.

“who do you belong to puppy?” he inquires gruffly, not moving an inch, watching the way you blink up at him through tears.

“w-what?” its sudden, your sweet and kind bo almost never talked like this in bed, it makes you salivate, a heat flushing down your back.

“c’mon- tell me who you belong to.” he hisses once more, splaying one of his big, strong, veiny hands across your chest, pushing down- locking you against the bed.

he still hasn’t moved, and the fluttering of your pussy down on the head of his dick makes him grunt- muscled stomach tensing with each one. he comes back to you- a little softer in the way his words sound, carrying that sweetness you know and love.

“please, tell me you’re mine.” he whispers, moving the hand that had you pinned down up towards your neck, rough callouses rubbing against the soft and sensitive skin there.

its a juxtaposition of kind, vulnerable words mixing in with the harsher movements of his strong hand curling against your airway, frantic in the need to hear it from you.

you know what he needs, and you’re more than happy to comply, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better. your hand moves up to wrap around his wrist, pulling him in close, eyes burning with hot tears forming there at the lack of blood- but you continue, till the next words are all but hissed, high and tight.

“yours, i’m all yours koutarou, my king.”

there isn’t anything he could have done to prepare for that, he stutters, chokes on the lust heavy in his chest, he feels like there’s molten want dripping down his veins- swirling into a tight ball at the pit of his stomach.

all he can do is rear back, hips lifting off you, popping the head of him out and you nearly whine, nearly ask him whats wrong before he slams down in one hard and desperate stroke, catching the skin of your cunt harshly, but its okay- there would have been no way you’d survive in a relationship with him if you didn’t like a little pain.

when his hips make contact with your cunt, puffy lips giving him cushion- he grinds down, smashing your clit down against his pubes.

eyes shut tight, a choked sob tumbling from your lips in response, head teetering back onto the bed.

“koutarou! fuck! fuck!” words high and staccato-ed are echoed out into the room, he feeds off the broken syllables of his name tumbling from your lips.

he looks at you while he squeezes his fingers against the thrum of your quickened pulse underneath his hand- watching your eyes roll back, the whites of them on clear display as lips part, a silent scream painted onto the moments of your face-

the bed groans, creaks with each crushing thrust he gives you, drilling you down into the bed.

“keep saying my name puppy, keep saying it.” he grunts looking at you with a feverish and concentrated gaze, affected in how well you stroke his ego, chest feeling incredibly full, the prickle of his orgasm starts, but there was /no/ way he’d come before his baby.

the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat sweeps down your arching body until his thumb finds your twitching clit- immediately pressing down on it with enough force that his thumb turns white. it rips a scream straight from the center of your chest and your body starts seizing up.

he huffs out a laugh when he sees the way your hips cant up off the bedding- it nearly pushes him back, but he stays unwavering, following the movement of your spasming body.

“koutarou!” his name leaves your mouth in the form of a wail while he batters your cunt, you don’t even know you’re moving the way you are- hands falling to rest pitifully against your head.

“ah- that’s my girl.” bokuto beams, seeing the splash of your cum arch all the way up to hit his tummy- abs glistening with every contraction as his hips drill into you- he gives in, taking the thumb that had been squeezing your clit down onto your body and sticking it into his mouth, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks the cum off his hand, all while keeping your neck pinned down and chasing the frantic movements of your hips.

there’s no immediate reaction from you when he picks up your legs- weak with the strain you’ve put them under, and folds them up to your chest.

the only thing you do is intake a lungful of air, dazed eyes looking up at him- not knowing how he got so close to your face.

it’s the first slap of his heavy balls against your ass that makes you come back from it all-

“p-please!!” you cry, eyes wide. the force of him still pistoning into you makes your body bounce off the shaking bed, and thanks to the squirting orgasm he fucked out of you with his thick cock- building a near searing sensitivity into the walls of your cunt and clit, you cum once more. it’s the final break into a headspace that has you twitch and flail your legs, wiggling against the hold of his arms.

“yeah- good girl.” bokuto grits out, a bead of sweat drips off his face onto your own, and thankfully- it’s what he needs to cum. his eyes are frantic as he watches you- swollen lips, face turned relaxed as you squeeze down around him, looking like the image of fucked stupid.

with the a final resounding smack of his hips into you, his cock jumps, swelling, growing snug inside you before he dumps an almost obscene amount of cum into you.

small twitches of your body lets him know you feel it, his head falls down to land against your chest, keeping you folded as he grits his teeth.

it takes rapid, hard blinks of his eyes to not let tears fall down onto his face. he’s shaky as he finally sits back up, making sure to bring your thighs down gently.

“kou-“ you choke out, looking for him-

he responds by finding your limp hands, still lying up by your head- slotting thick fingers and broad hands into your own.

“‘m right here.” koutarou nearly wheezes out, still reeling from an orgasm that he can still feel.

“that felt good.” your voice is airy and sweet- pitchy and laced with love.

for the second time that night- he laughs, shaking his head while he slips his softened cock out of you.

he picks you up, scooping your trembling form into swollen muscles- keeping you nice and tight against a hard torso.

“you make me feel good.” he whispers into your hair, not caring about the trail of hot cum that leaks out of your fucked out cunt, trails of it running down his leg while he places you on his chest, laying the both of you down.

holding you tight like this, sweat mingling together, residue of cum and tears painting eachothers bodies- he knows there was nothing he should have ever been worried about.

he didn’t have to worry about protecting or loosing you- bodies intertwined, locked into one another proved that you took care of him, gentle hands tracing your name onto the skin of his chest.

“i’m all yours koutarou.” you whisper, nearly falling into the heaviness of sleep.

he once again blinks back the need to cry- he could take all the punches in the world, not even blink, but he was so weak for you.

“yeah... i’m all yours too.” his voice is tender, shaky with emotion, arms squeezing around you tight.

he really was.

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