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ultralightpoe · 6 hours ago

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JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain.

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person.

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth.

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare.

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said.

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’. But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink.

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention. Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat.

This could be fun.

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it.

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh.

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic.

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin.

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?”

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost.

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door.

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you.

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.”

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.”

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress.

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath.

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms.

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining.

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him.

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence.

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark.

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster.

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about.

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill.

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person.

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors.

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan.

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn.

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back.

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off.

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to.

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap.

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm.

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check.

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement.

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you.

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.”

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt.

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center.

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own.

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair.

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan.

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him.

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up.

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze.

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them.

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time.

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back.

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure.

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off.

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild.

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump.

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher.

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets.

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was empty.

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs.

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin.

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

“Goodnight, Doll.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door.

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look.

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel angst #winter soldier

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sunderingstars · 2 days ago

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.✦ ── ✦.

mr. cold feet’s pop-up shop

.✦ ── ✦.

what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, theory crafting, elation!sampo, sampo!sampo (??), lil bit of emanator!sampo & doll!sampo sprinkled in, list format turned waxing poetic, (as always), general befuddlement, op literally trying to think their way out of a paper bag, hijacked by mundanite assembly halfway through, yap class is now in session

word count: 13.5k 😀

overview: (as of 2.6) summarizing my thoughts on all seven days of sampo’s new shop event! i know i said i was “done” with sampo analysis but… i must…… talk about shiny new event………

sampo analysis masterlist

.✦ ── ✦.

My Main Takeaways

.✦ ── ✦.

— Each Curio exchange is potentially a chronology of his existence, beginning as a conceptual something floating out in the ether, then being “created,” caught, or tethered to a specific form, all the way through his experiences with Aha and the Elation.

— Otherwise, I feel these “Curios” may be stand-ins for things he has created himself or been in the vicinity of at some point. In some way, they likely say something specific about his identity and backstory.

— Mentions of both “Diogenes” and “Icarus” link him to other forms of mythology.

— Sampo does not make money from this event; instead, we the player and Trailblazer do (similar to his mythological function).

— Mentions of the Tavern and several specifically Elation-aligned factions or beings.

— Doubling down on the function of the mythological Sampo and its narrative, including lines from the Kalevala itself!

— These different Curios, if not chronological, may instead be alluding to Aha’s “collection” of masks and items seen in Their splash art. this would place Sampo closer in proximity to Aha Themself, if not being Them, since he would be in the position of the one “collecting” or marketing these items. There is also a chance that Sampo, as per his function, was used by Aha to create the equivalent of these Curios, putting him in that strange “creator but also created” purgatory!

— (The name of the event also emphasizes the “Mr. Cold Feet” moniker, which I’ve talked about in my “Notable Topics” post as being synonymous with his uncanny ability to back out and rethink things he doesn’t want to be a part of. The “pop-up shop” itself is also temporary, which may be hinting at the fact that his identity as Sampo on Belobog may, itself, be a kind of temporary “pop-up event” in the grand scheme of his life.)

— Most confusing conversations and backtracking could be explained by Aha’s “secret” and the idea Sampo can’t say certain things about his identity. Thus, he may have to abruptly distance himself from the Curios in conversation if he feels he’s getting too close to “revealing the truth.”

— The event itself might also be a cry for help to us, the player; maybe he knows there are some things we understand that the Trailblazer doesn’t, such as the names of the achievements on the processing screen. He is trying his best to reach somebody :((

— Every day has two phrases repeated in the flavor text for each Curio: “One-of-a-Kind Curio” and “Collectible and Value-Preserving.” I have a feeling these lines not only refer to the literal objects involved, but Sampo himself. This falls in line with Doll Theory quite well (as Sampo being yet another doll would place him as “collectible” but his potential Emanator or favored status within the Elation could market him as being “one-of-a-kind,” likely due to his Sampo-like nature of being “value-preserving”), but it could also mean any number of things, from a purely Emanator!Sampo to Sampo who was created by a being other than Aha — anything that positions him as “valuable” or akin to an object himself is viable for this interpretation.

— Additionally, I’m not sure how his mask factors into all this — it’s a bit unclear if he even has it back yet, and I can’t find anything in the event that might allude to it. Masks don’t seem to be explicitly mentioned in any way; it must be important to him, so it’s a bit of a head scratcher as to why he doesn’t seem to be talking about it (aside from the whole “secret” thing). If anyone has any ideas, please feel free to let me know, I’d love to hear them!

— Despite the length of this analysis, it’s by no means meant to cover every single possibility; so much of Sampo’s character is up to interpretation, so the theory scene is wide open. I’d love to hear any alternate interpretations you guys have in the comments/reblogs!

Update: Due to new information gleaned from Mundanite Assembly (Unknowable Domain), I believe the pop-up event can have an extra chronological interpretation — Sampo as an elemental force drifting through the ether before being captured and harnessed into a singular form (likely mechanical in nature), then used for increasingly dangerous experiments before, through a series of honestly exhaustive events, finding himself puppeted around for a joke at the Tavern.

I do believe this only leads up to day four or five of the pop-up shop, with days six and seven being interpretative of the time after. (And what Sampo is doing now in the present day, trying to figure out the key to his existence and his past.) This is a tentative theory, but I still wanted to include it. I’ll link my Mundanite Assembly analysis here when I post it!

Another Update: While some of this pop-up event may be referencing events in Mundanite Assembly like day three and its themes of being “stolen from the heavens,” I also think some of it, like the references to toys and especially the last day of trying to understand “past and present lives,” are meant to symbolize recent events, such as his experiences with Elation and his current situation. There’s the possibility that Doll theories and Emanator theories would work in this “gap” — or the time between the end of “Windup World” (around day four) and the “present” (day seven).

When talking about Mundanite Assembly, I will be operating under the assumption that the “you” perspective is Sampo, and addressing him accordingly.

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 1

.✦ ── ✦.

— He “missed us dearly,” which is really sweet! :,)

— He immediately addresses himself as “Old Sampo,” bringing both his name and its associations to the forefront before specifically introducing us to something that “won’t make money” — aka something that we will profit off of and he “won’t,” turning our basic items into rewards like his mythological counterpart.

— He also links this venture to the idea of “fun,” putting his pursuits in the orbit of Elation. I’m inclined to take his word on it, which brings up the question: How does he feel about his “function”? It’s something he seems to be aware of, but is it something he enjoys? Did he give himself the name “Sampo” simply because of what he likes to do, or was it always an immutable part of him, some unavoidable truth he attempts to claim as his own — to exercise his own kind of “Elation” alongside it — so that it wears on him less? Basically, what came first: the name or the action? Is he Sampo because he produces wealth, or does he produce wealth because he is Sampo? Interesting stuff to think about!

— He was lonely… :(((((((((((

— This does put his trip to Penacony in perspective, though: if we assume he’s telling the truth (or at least part of it) here, then his run-ins with certain characters make more sense. He may have used getting his mask back as both a way to accomplish a goal (helping Belobog) and to speak to someone he maybe hadn’t spoken to in a while. Although Sampo does seem to be exasperated by Sparkle and the rest of the Fools quite often, he also seems to harbor a sort of fondness for them. There’s also the possibility he knows other people on Penacony that he wanted to talk to.

— Boothill’s Emanator run-in is also looking more viable here, as a genuinely “lonely” Sampo feels like more of a recipe for a drunken confession of identity! In fact, with some of my interpretations from this event, I could see Sampo and Boothill having quite a bit in common, especially in the vein of just wanting someone to have a good drink with and genuinely talk to.

— Sampo & Boothill underrated friendship for the win! 💪

— I feel like his talk of the meme crate is twofold: one, it is a very real item, and two, it may also be something he uses as a way to talk about himself in a roundabout way, much like the Curios during the rest of the event.

— The timeframe of “eight years” gives us a good benchmark; we now know he’s been on Belobog for at least eight years, and the way he references the crate as being “hidden right here in the Belobogian snow fields!” (coincidentally right where we first meet him in the game) can also be interpreted as a reference to himself. Both he and the crate have been here for at least eight years, with Sampo likely being here longer and simply finding the crate eight years ago. Both he and the crate are implied to have been “hiding in plain sight,” so to speak, and the way he backtracks to ask “so how many years would it be now?” makes me think he really is referring to himself. To me, it very much reads as a genuine attempt to remember how long he’s been on Belobog exactly.

— It also almost implies that for much of that time, Sampo wasn’t near civilization, or at least a part of it. There’s a lonely quality to the crate being left out in those fields all alone for so long, and if it’s meant to mirror Sampo’s journey there’s a chance he was out there all alone for some time as well. :((

— Also, the “meme crate” is specific, and may be alluding to Sampo himself as a creation or otherwise “memetic” entity (which honestly, branches off into a lot of different possibilities).

— Additionally, when he says “after Jarilo-VI returned to the silver rail, I got to know several friends beyond the sky” it seems to have a… weird quality to it. It might just be me, but I feel like this is one of his signature “technically true but not quite” lines — the implication for the Trailblazer is that, just like everyone else on Jarilo-VI, Sampo did not have access at all beyond the planet, and so once that access was gained he began connecting with the rest of the universe like everyone else. However, Sampo doesn’t specify this. He doesn’t say he made his first friends beyond the sky, he doesn’t say he rejoined the universe like everyone else. He words it in a way that isn’t technically dishonest, but that carefully leaves out key details — Jarilo-VI returned to the silver rail, not him; he made several friends beyond the sky, but he doesn’t mention whether he already had other friends out there, or if he was simply reconnecting with former acquaintances. It feels very intentional, and man do I find it interesting!

— Again, we get some pretty heavy references to the mythological Sampo, with him detailing how he won’t make any money from the event but it will be a “golden money-making opportunity” for us. Here, he doesn’t seem discontented with what he’s doing — in fact, he proposes the idea to us. Aside from the fact he may have to carry out these kinds of transactions to survive or stay alive, it really does come across as something he wants to do — or at least is okay with doing — than something he dislikes. (Or maybe we’re just special and he likes us!)

— Lastly, when he mentions “the tiring, dirty work will be outsourced to robots” I’m not super sure how to feel. On one hand, he could be speaking as a creation himself, ironically going further down the ladder to use those below him as a means to accomplish what he accomplishes for whoever is above him; this would fit with the “dual” nature of many of his remarks, as I do think many of them don’t just refer to what he’s talking about, but also himself. On the other hand, he could simply be speaking from the perspective of a creator, of someone who doesn’t necessarily have a similar function to the robots but just… wants them to take care of things for him.

— It could even be both if we’re talking about Emanator!Sampo, stuck in this purgatory between using others and being used. Perhaps he is in the “creator” role overseeing these robots while also being in the “created” role under an Aeon at the same time.

— I also feel like this might be a reference to Aha Stuffed Toys — I’ve made a few connections before between the idea of “mass-produced” dolls or playthings from the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence and the “intact masks” from the Ship of Fools occurrence. If these dolls and masks are one and the same, then the robots Sampo mentions here fill a similar role to the stuffed toys: doing the work Aha doesn’t want to do, taking the brunt of pain and effort so another doesn’t have to.

— We start off with wind, Sampo’s signature element (very fitting!).

— “The Fluid, the Myth, the Legend” is a fun twist on “the man, the myth, the legend” that takes a specific approach to setting Sampo apart from the idea of “man” or any other solidly definable means of mortality. It also gives him a somewhat mysterious, godlike quality, as “myths” and “legends” often have to do with those who are powerful or divine. Also, it’s a nice reference to the mythological Sampo!

— If we take this to have a double meaning for his identity, then the name may be alluding to either his “core” or “base trait” — like the fluidity of a higher being, his element of wind, or even the intangible concept of Elation — or a more literal time in chronology where he was not yet made into form.

— “Give yourself the chance to experience the wonders of controlling an ideal fluid” may point towards his backstory, with something or someone potentially trying to “control” him in his more fluid or conceptual state. Since it’s followed up by a “(Just kidding!)” it seems this attempt at control may not have been successful, or it may just be another way for Sampo to get his Elation in through the event!

— On the Aha side of things, this “fluid” could be a reference to someone or something that is part of Aha’s collection. For this, either Sampo would have to be Aha or part of them somehow, or simply used by Them to create these things!

— I also like how Sampo tries to talk Silver Wolf down from leaving a negative review — although it does seem a bit desperate at the end? If Sampo’s function is being a businessman in a specifically mythologically-relevant niche, then perhaps negative reviews have some kind of deeper effect on him, anywhere from mild discomfort or unease to even pain. Or not, and he just wants his stuff to sell!

— He also gives us a joke afterwards, and even though he says “it’s just a joke,” I feel like it might mean something more. As much as Sampo aligns himself with the Elation, he also has nuanced opinions about it, the kind that go far beyond making simple Masked-Fools-type jokes.

— Even if the “joke” itself is absurd, I still feel like it points towards something about him as a character. “The world brims with narcissistic wisdom. Only a fool knows that they’re all a joke.”

— We can take this two ways: one, Sampo is recounting a joke he’s heard (likely from the Masked Fools) but doesn’t agree with, and two, Sampo is telling a joke he does agree with.

— If he doesn’t agree, he may be trying to put a sort of ironic twist on the way the Fools view things; he recounts the joke to us and says “it’s just a joke” when we express confusion to highlight how contradictory the Fools are — it’s not just that they like telling jokes, but (as Sampo mentions later in the event), they only seem to care about themselves and their own laughter, not the enjoyment or understanding of others.

— If he does agree with the joke, he’s at least expressing a deeper sense of absurdism, something picked up from his time with the Elation that likely offsets despair or pure Nihility when it threatens to consume him. It also reminds me of how close the Elation and Nihility are in concept; the main distinguishing factor is their presentation. (Perhaps Sampo, as someone aligned with both Paths, is trying to express this as well.)

— Or, it’s like he says, and it really is all just a joke. You never can tell with this man!

— Also, his little box is really cute! It’s color-coordinated with a signature rose and even a sticker of Gepard’s drawing! I’m just very emotional about this. He made it his own. ♡

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 2

.✦ ── ✦.

— Specific mention of “meme catalysis” — yet another reference to memes and intangible or created beings.

— “A fire that provokes profundity” is a very specific phrase as well; I’ve already made some speculation as to his relationship with Erudition, since it seems to pop up quite a bit in his related Simulated Universe occurrences (and to be honest, this new Unknowable Domain content has made me do a double take with how much experimentation and creation is going on in the search for knowledge). I feel like, if this is meant to say something about his identity, this phrase would put Sampo in orbit with the Erudition, since it directly contains a reference to gaining knowledge.

— (Note: “Liquid Flame” reminds me of “Dousing Flames” from Mundanite Assembly!)

— “Liquid Flame in Void” carries across similar ideas as the last day — immateriality and pure substance — although this time it is beginning to occupy a more specific niche. Instead of a mythological “fluid,” we have now stepped into “liquid flame,” something more specific in both name and place. No longer is it vaguely floating in the ether, but it directly resides in the “void.” Overall, it’s a more vivid picture than the last.

— Chronologically, I would interpret this as Sampo’s more “ethereal” and original form (whether Aeonic, elemental, or conceptual in nature) growing more distinct, leaving behind his formless existence to become something… more.

— Additionally, despite the reference to knowledge (and by extension, Erudition) earlier, this feels much more Nihility-aligned to me. “If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you” feels like a direct reference to the abyss of IX, although i’m not sure if IX is the type to “gaze” at all.

— (It also links to “Dousing Flames (II),” where the imagery surrounding the Perpetual Motion Project very much reminds me of IX’s Nihility “boundary” (as seen in Acheron’s burst).)

— This could mean several things to me: one, it could simply be alluding to Sampo’s affiliation with Nihility since that is his playable Path; two, it could be indicative of a chronological time where he was alone, abandoned, or hopeless, simply left to stare into a void until he gained some sort of enlightenment (Path-related or otherwise) — for Doll!Sampo or other creation theories, this would likely be when he was physically abandoned on Belobog for a long time; three, it could be another reference to one of Aha’s “collectibles” They or Sampo made; or four, it could be link to some sort of “origin” for Sampo within space, where his slowly-forming self had nothing but the void for company. Or, hell, it could even be some combination of all four!

— “(There is no such function!)” feels contradictory, but that seems to be a running theme so far. All of the parenthesis are Elation-aligned jokes, which may or may not be true. In fact, they may only even be there to mess with us!

— Sampo also seems to refer to something specific in his comment — “there are all kinds of Curios out there,” mirroring both the variety of event items and Aha’s own collection, and “even a bag of trash can have its own unique shine,” which feels like it’s about him specifically. While Belobog itself surely qualifies for these statements as well, it seems that Sampo may be referring to himself from two steps and a third-person point of view away (as he so often loves to do). In this case, “all kinds of Curios” could be a reference to Aha’s splash art collection (and the “collection” of potential dolls in Ship of Fools) and the “bag of trash” could be a reference to Sampo’s specific position within that collection.

— Generally, I take this to mean Sampo is speaking about how he, despite being abandoned or otherwise considered “trash,” has found himself in a collection where he has his own “unique value.” In this case, him being in the proximity of Aha may have a silver lining or even wholesome implication — despite looking into the void, despite being discarded or seen as waste, there was at least one being in the universe who looked upon him and, devoid of shallow pity, saw the value at the core of his being. While it’s possible there may still be a twisted, cruel sort of irony going on, there’s also just as much of a chance that Aha or the Fools have nurtured Sampo in a way he never has been before.

A Note:

— As you may have noticed, I’ve already started to amend my timeline a bit — for those who have read my other posts, especially Doll Theory, I posited Sampo as having a “creation to abandonment to hatred” timeline, but after this event I feel there are some additions and changes to be made.

— If the items in this event are to be taken chronologically, then it’s likely Sampo had a period of “manifestation” or formless existence, then isolation or abandonment, then being stolen or trapped, then created and used before eventually endeavoring to find out, put simply, what the hell is going on.

— It’s possible that I’m misreading the items in the event and they aren’t meant to symbolize Sampo at all, but a few things like being “stolen” line up neatly with Sampo’s mythological counterpart, so I’m willing to consider it an option.

— Moving forward, Sampo says a few key phrases, namely “red and fiery” and “a lucky portent” — the red matches with his jacket color, fiery may allude to his temperament (as mentioned through his “hot-blooded past” later in the event) or even a specific state of being (fire, elemental, combustible, etc.), and “a lucky portent” relates to his function as the Sampo, bestowing wealth and, in a way, “luck” onto others.

— Additionally, if we are considering that Aha may be the one “stealing” Sampo (it certainly lines up with Their personality), this may reference the Aeon Themself scoping out candidates for a pet project or joke, where they are then intrigued by Sampo. “Portent” also ties in to the kind of “butterfly effect” way Aha operates, and they may have seen something greater within Sampo that he himself hadn’t seen. Either way, yoink!

— Next, Sampo directly mentions the Tavern — a shorthand way of referring to the World’s End Tavern operated by the Masked Fools — and surprisingly enough, links it specifically to the idea of storytelling. We get some good tidbits, like the fact he isn’t “all-knowing,” and that there are many stories that would be inconvenient to share.

— On one hand, this implies that whoever Sampo may be (whether he is an Aeon, an Emanator, or some non-mortal third option), he has blind spots. Depending on who exactly he is, this has different implications — for example, an Aeonic Sampo would basically be admitting Aeons (in general, since Nous is probably an exception) don’t know everything despite being at the top of the food chain, meaning they are still fallible; outsmarting them is near impossible but not entirely. Meanwhile, other Sampos may be trying to convey that although they are old and experienced and powerful, they aren’t the answer to everything; there are some things we still need to figure out ourselves.

— Additionally, the aspect of “convenience” could go several ways for me. Either he is genuinely so powerful that he can’t be bothered to tell us everything, he has knowledge of future events and doesn’t want to mess them up, or there is some sort of power above or within him that creates limitations — i.e. “inconveniences” — if he says certain things. Going back to some doll speculation and the idea of a “secret only Aha knows,” there’s a possibility that Sampo mentioning convenience is just a light way of alluding to the fact he can’t say or do certain things, either out of pure inability or the fear of what will happen to him if he does.

— Also, there’s the possibility he did some really fucked up stuff in his past and he doesn’t want to ruin his reputation with us, LOL.

— He mentions how the Tavern has a penchant for stories as well — especially how they “actively” seek those people out and how, apparently, the Trailblazer would be a prime candidate for the Elation in this regard. Beyond the fact this is another little hint at how the Elation (and Aha) tends to take a liking to the Trailblaze (and the Trailblazer), it also may say a little bit about how Sampo came to be there. Setting aside any kind of “stealing” or affiliation with Aha Themself, the Masked Fools tend to actively send invitations to those whose lives they find “interesting” — it’s possible that Sampo found himself the recipient of one of these invitations even if he was already with the Elation, as whatever his backstory is, I’m sure it’s going to be damn interesting!

— The last little bit of Sampo’s dialogue on day two focuses on the idea of “place,” namely the transporting and selling of goods from one place to another. Similarly to the “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” idea going on in the liquid flame comments, there’s the implication here that items, goods, and potentially Sampo himself are all victims of circumstance — just because an item (or Sampo himself) may be considered useless or “trash” in one place, there are many other places that would consider it valuable.

— It also places Sampo as a “go-between,” neither created nor creator but simply a middleman ferrying all these things between places. It lines up a bit with the idea that Sampo, although potentially being stolen or taken by Aha, eventually found himself in a space where he had the freedom to move things from place to place rather than being the one being moved.

— Again with the reference to a “meme”… Sampo what are you trying to tell us…….

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 3

.✦ ── ✦.

— This seems as good a place as any to talk about the phrases that show up when you submit items!

— One: Cute little emoticons, kinda tech-aligned like Curio Hacker. All in all, a nice little touch!

— Two: “Cool Guys.” May be a simple indication of how Sampo tries to come across as a “cool guy” in most of our interactions, but could also be a reference to the achievement “Cool Guys Don’t Look At Explosions,” when you clear Simulated Universe with ten or more Blessings of Destruction. Since the text is cut off so early, I’m not sure if the achievement is actually meant to be referenced here, and admittedly the Destruction doesn’t quite fit in with everything Sampo-aligned so far. However, it could be a link to Sampo’s red, fiery, “hot-blooded” past, or to his “breaking” or destruction in mythology. Additionally, maybe the “hate” behind the “love” could also lead to Destruction. (Plus, the Clown’s Item “Cloud of Doubt” does have a door on fire….)

— Three: “Take It Easy, Icarus” is especially notable because it appears repeatedly in the flash of words. For one, it references an achievement of the same name where you fly a cycrane to “test the limits of its remote control range”. This seems directly Doll!Sampo-related — or at least Creation!Sampo-related — since the entire idea of the achievement is taking an automated object and setting it loose to see “just how far it can go”. Additionally, the “remote control range” sounds very similar to the idea of Aha “not being involved in the quality control process” when it comes to stuffed toys. It’s possible that Aha, either creating Sampo Themself or stealing him from another creator, set him loose upon the universe to see just how far he could go, just how far he could advance his awareness beyond what he was created to be. However, much like the cycrane, there is always an invisible wall to hit. (The achievement is also in the “Fathom the Unfathomable” category, which feels Erudition-aligned.)

— Additionally, the mention of “Icarus” himself creates a link to Greek mythology, with the implication being that Sampo may fill similar themes to this figure, like “over-ambition,” “alienation,” “impulsivity,” and “the consequences of breaking boundaries”. It’s also possible that Sampo, in his attempt to reveal the “truth” or manage the “hate” inside himself, may be flying too close to the sun when it comes to enemies — or “prey” — he sets his sights on. (i.e. if he is angry at a specific Aeon, even Aha Themself, he may be biting off a bit more than he can chew by setting them in his sights.)

— The mention of Icarus could be a kind of warning as well; an indication of someone, perhaps Sparkle or Boothill or a different person, trying to remind Sampo of how dangerous impulsivity and setting his sights too high can be. I can just see Boothill saying something like “take it easy, Icarus” to Sampo over drinks after Sampo explains what he’s planning.

— Four: “This must be a trap crea…” — my best guess is that this is meant to say something like “This must be a trap created by…” or something along those lines. I feel like this might also be a reference to something else in-game, but after searching through the wiki I just couldn’t find anything matching this specific wording. While it does link to Sampo’s “Trap” ability — something both relevant and pertinent to the discussion — I’m afraid the text for this phrase is too cut off to meaningfully find any reference (at least for me). :(

— However, the general idea of “this must be a trap” seems like it could be a part of Sampo’s inner monologue or general feelings about his situation. Perhaps he has misgivings about his affiliation with the Fools, Aha, or the Elation in general, or he could be referring to some other event in his backstory. Maybe it has something to do with “betrayal” or “abandonment,” or perhaps it’s simply what others think of him when they see him. Either way, the idea of a “trap” is very much at the center of this wall of text.

— Five: “Diogenes’ Utopia.” This is the achievement you get for going through all of Belobog’s trash cans, and yep, the relevancy to Sampo seems pretty obvious here. Not only is it in the Moment of Joy (Elation-aligned) category, but it directly connects to the idea of Belobog and Sampo himself being associated with trash and trashcans — in fact, one could even say Sampo views himself as the “trash” in the greater “trashcan” of Belobog! Because of this link, it seems to imply some kind of importance to getting to know Sampo, to looking beyond his exterior or the parts others see as “valueless” and finding the worth inside of him. To be loved is to be known, and all that.

— Additionally, the mention of yet another Greek figure — Diogenes — is important as well. Not only was Diogenes known for founding cynicism (a lifestyle emphasizing self-sufficiency and, perhaps most notably, intentional rejection of luxury), he also rejected “manners” as a whole, often impressing the idea that “truth” and honesty was a virtue.

— As for Sampo, I find this link quite interesting. It really makes me think about how, despite Sampo’s penchant for being a businessman, he willingly chooses to stay in Belobog, a place far-removed from the luxuries of the wider universe. Not just that, but although he often obscures or leaves out important details of the truth, he never seems to outright lie. With how Tatalov shook out on Penacony, “truth” and the revealing of it seems important to him as well. (He also mentions that he has nothing to hide later in this same event.)

— It also many be referring to Belobog as a “utopia” for someone like Diogenes, since so much of the planet has returned to the “simplicity of nature” through being cut off from the wider universe.

— Overall, there’s quite a bit of references to Greek figures, and well as implications of both conceptual and material themes. All together, it seems to paint a picture of Sampo as someone who, on a personal level (and despite the way he comes across on the outside), prioritizes truth, ambition, and finding value in unlikely places. It also implies that, on an identity level, he may be someone who isn’t entirely human — a creation, perhaps even technological or otherwise — who has been tossed aside from one place only to be found valuable in another, and additionally who may have been “set loose” to explore the limits of his existence.

— These could have slight alterations, of course, like Sampo not being “set loose” by any one party but rather trying to find his limitations on his own, or being found “valuable” in Belobog’s Undercity as opposed to the Elation itself, but I think the core ideas still stand.

— “High Voltage Stolen From Heavens” is very interesting to me because of one word: stolen. (Well, it also occurs to me that “high voltage” implies the fluid-turned-flame eventually snapped into existence, and was likely taken from that “electrical” form, and that “heavens” implies either space itself or another Aeon, but I digress.) “Stolen” sticks out to me so much because the mythological Sampo has quite a bit of conflict surrounding it, including being “stolen” (several times, if I remember correctly).

— This fits neatly into a mythological interpretation of Sampo’s character, implying that from whatever form (material or otherwise) he originated in, he was then stolen by another party in-universe. My tendency is to say Aha was the one doing the stealing, as Sampo is currently affiliated with the Elation and it just seems like something Aha would do. The main question now is: From who? Again, Sampo’s identity itself is the main question. (Looking real convenient for that “secret” only Aha knows.) Aha’s motivations seem to have been either experimental, joke, or purely interest-based in nature, so we at least have some leads there. Additionally, it seems that Sampo may have been “shoved,” for lack of a better word, into a smaller or more compact form when he was stolen, so that’s another idea. However, i’m still not sure from who.

— Aha is doing the stealing, Sampo is the thing being stolen, so who else is part of the equation? I’m tempted to say it’s another Aeon, or at least an important Path faction, but for the life of me that’s something I just can’t figure out. Again, this is likely intentional if Aha is trying to keep Sampo’s identity a “secret,” but it still frustrates me to no end. Who is it Mx. Aha?? I need to know!!

— (“Stolen” could also refer to “Those Remembered (I)” from Mundanite Assembly, as Xiaoya and her teacher taking Sampo out of the darkness — likely his home or place he lived — and into the light, or outer world, could be a case of “stealing”.)

— “On stormy days, the unyielding kite will face the wrath of the gods head-on” once again feels like Sampo is referring to himself, this time as the “unyielding kite”. I wonder if “wrath of the gods” is meant to simulate some kind of battle fought over him (which would line up with some mythology-related stuff) or if it’s simply meant to talk about how Sampo might stand up to an Aeon (or multiple Aeons) in the future — hell, maybe he already did! It’s possible that Aha or someone else fucked around too much and found out.

— “(Do not attempt!)” also feels like a warning.

— “Nameless” saying “best luck to kites everywhere” is surprisingly wholesome as well, like we’re giving him well-wishes for his journey. Additionally, “kites everywhere” implies multiplicity, which I of course associate with Aha’s collection and/or stuffed toys because of their many individuals.

— (There’s a chance that, because of this, we may be dealing with a collection item/Doll!Sampo that, out of so many others, was the one to finally stand up and say “Hey! You treat us badly! Fuck you!”)

— As far as I’m aware, this seems like a pretty factual “true story” Sampo’s talking about — coming across a Knight of Beauty who tells a story that outlines and references Benjamin Franklin’s kite experiment, then being a bit taken aback by the Knight’s sheer devotion.

— While this seems to be a true story in-universe, it also seems to mirror the idea that Sampo may have been “bottled” himself, potentially stolen from a different, more fluid and combustible form and forced into a smaller one through some kind of experiment or, as mentioned earlier, “trap.” If Aha was indeed the one doing the stealing, this lends a more sinister motive to the whole thing. While it’s true Sampo may have found new value with the Elation, he may have only found that through a series of traumatic events, like being stolen, trapped, or otherwise “sealed” (like the evil god in the Shining Trapezohedron Die from Ship of Fools — haha, see how I made that connection! >:3) for the purpose of a “joke” or other experiment.

— (This experimentation could also be connected to Mundanite Assembly’s “Resleeved,” especially with its use of transplantation and Organic Heart specifically.)

— In this case, Sampo very much comes across as a force of nature — no wonder Aha wants to be hush-hush about his identity! If anyone were to find out, or heaven forbid, break that “seal” (likely Sampo’s human form itself) all hell could break loose.

— I also just find it nice to see Sampo’s interaction with and outlook on someone outside of Belobog or the Masked Fools! It seems he has some complicated feelings when it comes to the Knights of Beauty — on one hand, he seems taken aback by their pure devotion and unabashed, streamlined fervor, but on the other hand there’s this sort of amused admiration that comes from seeing their antics. If I had to sum Sampo’s conversation up in this regard, it’d most likely be the phrase “backhanded compliment.”

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 4

.✦ ── ✦.

— This is arguably the biggest day in terms of Doll!Sampo theories, and for good reason. Sampo himself says “we’re cooking up some toys today,” and the interesting part is that it’s plural — not just one, but multiple, much like Aha’s stuffed toys.

— The name of the Curio is “The Ice That Never Laughs,” which sticks out to me for two reasons: one, the presence of “ice,” a distinct element you wouldn’t consider to be such a large part of a toy, and two, the phrase “never laughs,” a condition of existence that seems to be the complete opposite of the Elation’s — and Aha’s — goal of laughter.

— “This is a block of ice that never laughs.” It’s an interesting line, from the ice itself seeming to straddle a line between non-sentient and sentient (and in a way being personified despite giving no indication of, well, personhood) to the absolutism of “never.” Not only does it “not” laugh, but it “never” laughs. I’m tempted to say this ice not only represents the stuffed toys in general, but is supposed to clue us in to a very specific toy — perhaps one as contradictory as Sampo — that goes against the Elation’s idea of “laughter.”

— This sentiment is made all the more ominous by the interjection: “(Incorrect! Squeezing it from different angles will make it produce different sounds of laughter!)”. This implies that the toy does not want to laugh, but is rather made to through some cruel idea of a joke. It’s very similar to the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence, where the toys have to be physically beaten and even broken to grant rewards.

— The main catch is: Who is Sampo in all of this? (Another identity question, who could’ve seen it coming?) If we’re looking at these Curios as intentionally-placed-and-named objects meant to give us insight into who Sampo is, what he believes, and what his role is in the wider universe, then I would say this ice is meant to represent him — or at least a time he was considered a toy like this. However, the comment section where someone compliments the “mental state of this toy designer” is answered directly by Sampo, who responds to it by saying “People here all say Mr. Cold Feet is disturbed!”.

— I feel like this implies Sampo to be not a toy, but rather the creator or designer themself. This, of course, would lead to Aha-centric theories, since Aha is the one who made the Aha Stuffed Toys. If Sampo used to be or is a part of Aha (if not the full Aeon Themself), then it makes sense that he would be the one answering questions about the toy designer. When he mentions being “disturbed,” it also makes me aware that he’s aware of the implications of such toys, yet decided to design them anyways. It fits with the way I’ve described Aha as a toy creator before, if not eerily so.

— There’s also the chance that Sampo, once again, fits in some kind of Emanator purgatory — perhaps he, as a being whose function is concerned with transmutation and even creation to an extent, was used by Aha to make the toys, and as such had some kind of say in the process. This could account for his disturbed designer mentality while also making it clear he’s not an Aeon himself.

— Unfortunately, this doesn’t fully account for a chronological understanding of Sampo’s identity; if he is trying to communicate something about his identity or situation to us through this event, I find it more likely that the inclusion of the ice would be a cry for help than any kind of “hey, I created these fucked up things this one time.” … And we’re back at square one!

— There are a few alternate theories, like if Sampo was captured or “stolen” to then be turned into a toy, or even if he designed the toys themselves only to be betrayed by Aha forcing him to be just the same as them — a prison of his own making, if you will — but it’s all speculation.

— I really want to believe he’s in this predator-prey, creator-created grey area so we can get the best of both worlds, but there’s just not enough concrete evidence to say for sure.

— (The repeated phrase “Collectible and Value-Preserving” also means more here, since the toys themselves would be made to be collectible, as seen in several Simulated Universe occurrences like The *Perfect* Grand Challenge and Ship of Fools!)

— Some of this dialogue also supports the idea that Sampo is more of a creator than a toy himself. “They’re a surefire hit” is very marketing-coded, meaning Sampo’s role here would be more to market and sell these toys than anything else. However, as we’ve mentioned before, it could also be his way of talking around the subject, using other items to, essentially, refer to himself.

— Additionally, he mentions gaining “inspiration,” which leads back to him being a designer, even just on a surface level.

— The inspiration itself, though, is interesting. A “toy bird” with its “expression stuck in horror, emitting a shrill screech whenever you squeeze on it.” If this isn’t the bird from Everlasting Hatred, I don’t know what is. The art for Everlasting Hatred, a Clown’s Item retrieved by Sampo in the Penacony Trailblaze quest, has a direct link to Sampo’s character theme of “hate,” and features a dead bird speared through the chest with an amalgamation of hardened, blackened thorns in the shape of a heart.

— I always assumed this bird was meant to symbolize Sampo, since it’s his “Clown’s Item” (and falls neatly in sequence with the other two), but the way he says “I really loved it” here makes me confused. It seems to imply this bird isn’t him, but is rather someone or something he used to know, some outside object he felt affection for. But if that’s the case, then why is he so specific about it? Why does it still feel like it has the quality of him trying to tell us something?

— If not for that last part, I would want to say Sampo is referring to himself again, referencing a period of time (likely as a toy or another part of Aha’s “collection”) where he was trapped in a horrible situation, likely being used by Aha for something so intensely that his demeanor and sense of self was completely warped.

— (This could also apply to the “Resleeved” experiments in Mundanite Assembly.)

— But, of course, that last line still implies that it was something else?

— Actually, now that I think about it, it’s possible that Sampo finds comfort in this “toy bird” because he relates to it, or because he’s been in a similar situation. I suppose that could explain not only why it is a physical Clown’s Item for him to retrieve, but also why he seems to love a separate object while also trying to convey something about himself. Perhaps him and the bird share similar feelings of distress, pain, and hopelessness, causing him to feel a kinship with it much like he does Belobog. After all, only the disturbed find comfort in the disturbing — and he said it himself, he is disturbed. Perhaps instead of coming up with random ideas, he’s trying to process or vent some part of his own life through these Curios.

— The next paragraph definitely reads like a directly-Sampo conversation, though — “an ice cube can only keep laughing to prevent itself from melting into a puddle of waste water in such a capricious age, haha.” Again, like the bird, this is so specific that I’m not sure who Sampo would be talking about other than himself. The inclusion of “waste water” and “haha” specifically tie things together for him, as “waste” is similar to the trash he is associated with, and “haha” is literally him laughing right after he describes how the ice has to keep laughing to survive. It’s like saying “I have this friend who has to say yippee otherwise they get struck down by a bolt of lightning” and then immediately saying “Yippee!” in a panicked voice while looking nervously at the sky. Despite the way he throws his perspective away from the toy cube at times, I’m still inclined to say it represents him.

— If we go with this interpretation, here’s what I think the ice cube is trying to say: Sampo is or has previously been in a situation where he was considered to be a toy (or at least treated in a similar way), complete with the pain, hopelessness, and dehumanization such a position would impose upon him. As such, his presentation of himself warped, much like the “shrieking” bird and the ice that is “forced” to laugh. Then, continuing forward, he must laugh or be a part of the Elation in order to survive.

— Other ideas may include: Sampo being a “middleman” for these toys, designing them and becoming attached to them in some sort of “disturbed” way. Sampo may also feel a sort of kinship with these toys despite not being one, perhaps because Aha “uses” him for his function in a similar way. (There’s a chance Aha “using” Sampo so much may lead to him breaking, or even being “broken” before, just to tie in to some occurrences and mythology!)

— (Mundanite Assembly also shows “Sampo” breaking and dying in numerous different ways, especially if all the stories are meant to be a chronological look at rebirth / reincarnation.)

— Then, at the very end, Sampo mentions how the toys are getting popular. He even justifies it a little, saying “… the world’s full of turmoil that makes it hard to laugh.” This could be indicative of a general sentiment — “outside looking in” — where he sees the toys as an understandable need in the world, but I have more of a feeling it says something about Sampo himself. To me, it sounds a lot like he’s trying to justify his own pain or suffering, to find some sort of silver lining so that he can understand why this is happening. He makes it sound casual — just enough to throw us off in wondering if he’s really talking about himself or not — but it’s clear he wouldn’t say something like this for no reason.

— (There’s also the chance Sampo is Aha, or at least a manifestation of Them, and is trying to convey something similar to the Primum Mobile: a set of rules where he must laugh, because the Elation may cease to exist if he doesn’t.)

— Overall, I’m more inclined to say Sampo wasn’t originally created as a toy, but rather stolen by Aha and forced to become one (or at least be used as one). And honestly? That’s more horrifying than the original theory!

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 5

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Salutations”… He’s so cute……

— “Full-Auto AetherTurbo Bookmark.” The main thing that sticks out to me here is “Full-Auto,” since it goes back to the idea of something automated, like a toy. I’m not quite sure what “bookmark” is supposed to mean, though? “AetherTurbo” could imply higher existence, such as being or becoming an Emanator, since “aether” is more outside the bounds of traditional elements and “turbo” implies “more” power or speed. A bookmark, however?

— The closest answer I can come to is that since Sampo has been talking about stories quite a bit in this event, it’s something to do with that. Perhaps he was created or has the ability to inhabit a specific “story” or “moment” in time, occupying the niche of a “bookmark” in a greater story. Beyond that, I’m not sure, at least through name alone.

— I’m guessing this Curio though, in a general sense, may be meant to represent the “hot-blooded past” he mentions later, since the art is of a feather on fire (and, well, fire is hot!). It’s possible that this, potentially being his time as an Emanator, could symbolize a jump in power as well as whatever “niche” he occupied during that time — maybe it had something to do with stories or something similar.

— The imagery of a phoenix is not lost on me, either, as that carries a very specific theme of being “reborn” that may also point towards his departure from “toy” or otherwise “powerless” status to something more self-sustaining. Becoming a new self, and all that.

— “Apply the principles of etheric wave dynamics to help you finish books you don’t have time to read!” If anything, I feel like this may support the relation between Sampo and Aha even more. To me, “etheric wave dynamics” fall in line with Sampo’s… everything, so far, from his original fluid state to even his traits as a playable character. Then, “to help you finish books you don’t have time to read” speaks very much to a condition or use, or a very specific purpose. We are moving away from the plain, marketable, cookie-cutter idea of a toy that is forced to laugh, and towards a higher, more specific form of existence. I interpret this niche to be something like a right-hand man, or at least an assistant — Sampo, in this case, would be the one finishing those unread books, while whoever his creator is is sending him out to do it.

Note: I have just finished reading through Mundanite Assembly, and will be attempting to make tentative connections / interpretations more often from here on out. (I will be assuming the “you” in these stories is Sampo, and addressing him accordingly.) In terms of this new information, the “bookmark” could also represent Sampo attempting to understand his past lives or experiments, which could be the “books” he doesn’t have time to read.

— “(Just like the famous storyteller!)” may also apply to Aha, since the Elation and Masked Fools seem to be focused on the impact of stories and storytelling — just take the Ship of Fools occurrence, where the entire Aha-coded event is basically a train of stories framed as “jokes”.

— Sampo also specifies that the product makes you feel like you’ve read a certain book, not the act of actually learning and understanding.

— This may be a shorthand way for him to try and experience his past lives, or it could be a way of conveying how Aha sends Their Emanators or dolls out to accomplish tasks They don’t want to / don’t feel like doing Themselves (a la “venting extreme emotions”).

— (The phoenix may also be indicative of Sampo’s many “lives,” especially the “Resleeved” story in Mundane Assembly where he is taken through many experimental lives in short succession.)

— Similar to what he says in his “first meeting” line about being a “businessman, chaperone, and problem-solving conversationalist” rolled into one; the idea of the stall selling multiple (sometimes unexpected or uncommon) Curios and the idea of he himself taking on multiple professions can also lead to the idea that he, from an identity standpoint, occupies multiple functions or niches. In this way, the stall selling stationery could also be a means to convey how Sampo operates in “multiplicity” as well.

— This is a good piece of interpretation for theory combination, as themes of multiplicity are very much present throughout his character. In this way, Mundanite Assembly could function as a way to convey points of his life associated with the Erudition — he is a machine, a source of knowledge, an organic-inorganic experiment of wonder — while things like his Eidolons could convey his time with the Elation as a Doll, Emanator, or otherwise. Basically, these things may not be in conflict with one another narratively; it is entirely possible Sampo is all of this at once.

— As for his pop-up event? I’m still tempted to say it is somewhat chronological, if only because it follows a line from non-sentient to advanced consciousness. However, the meanings of each timeline could be twofold: both his backstory with the Erudition and his place within the Elation currently.

— “If people get too obsessed with the outcome, they’ll be driven mad.” This seems to line up with “Resleeved” and several other points of Mundanite Assembly, as the scholar performing experiments on him was clearly unhinged.

— However, Sampo also treats the bookmark as a dangerous object with an amount of “influence” and danger. It’s possible he is referring to himself as something that can easily drive knowledge-seekers into madness, or even the general idea of “knowledge” being enough to move someone to insanity.

— “To become more open-minded, one must first learn to be self-deprecating.” This feels like a reference to “Windup World (III)” where the Tavern expresses clearly that it is “open-minded” before… well… playing quite a horrible “joke” on Sampo.

— The next part is one I’m torn in two directions on. The “mental torment without hope of escape” he mentions and the mustering “courage” to complain could be a reference to the clear mental torment of “Resleeved (II)”s experiments, and complaining about dinner could also link to “Printed Truths (II)” where he eats the Curio apple. However, this seems a bit… off from those stories. The experiments eventually break him instead of offering him any genuine escape, and the “apple” he eats doesn’t lead to any escape either. In both cases, he meets horrible ends; the only way it could be an “escape” is if he was aware he would die and be reborn free of his situation, but… he never seems to self-aware of that in these stories, at least not explicitly.

— Which leads me to the other option: this line of thinking may be him attempting to apply vague “knowledge” of past experiences to a current situation he faces. If he finds himself in an unsavory situation within the Elation, especially one focused around the “interest” or “amusement” of another party, then perhaps this line of thinking is prudent; after all, the act of complaining can often spoil the mood, and being a “let-down” may be a good way of diverting unwanted attention or amusement. A toy is meant to be fun, after all, and what use is it if it isn’t?

— He also specifies that he’s not a “comedic actor,” and when following that up with talking about those who “disregard the comedy of their routines” in favor of “doing their utmost to let others hear their own laughter,” it seems like a pretty big reference to “Windup World (III)” where the Masked Fool uses him in an “opening act” by making him, essentially, kill himself in front of a live audience. Obviously, this would be extremely traumatic for Sampo, while the “comedian” fits the description of someone who doesn’t care about the pain or distress of others as long as it makes them laugh.

— Sampo’s resulting worry — “Heavens, that’s so scary. Please don’t become someone like that.” — makes sense as well, as that traumatic event would cause him to be pretty shaken up when discussing the topic. The idea of us, a “friend,” becoming associated with the fear and adrenaline of that night is simply too much for him to consider.

— It’s also possible that Aha could also be referenced here, since the point of the Laughter is to… well, laugh. Despite Aha being a conceptual being, Sampo may view some of Their jokes as being cruel or unfair, especially if we’re taking a Doll!Sampo leaning. Aha may view it as funny, as a way to prioritize Their Laughter that rings throughout the universe, but from Sampo’s perspective it wouldn’t be comedic at all, just cruel.

— Overall, I do feel like this day heavily references not just “Windup World (III),” but phoenix-like rebirth and hints towards a current “trapped” situation.

— From an Emanator or Elation standpoint, rebirth may also be symbolic of a transformation we simply don’t see in Mundanite Assembly, something occupying the gap between that night at the tavern and the Sampo we see today.

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 6

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Synesthesia Omnihelper” could refer to his position within the Elation, either as an Emanator or a Masked Fool. The “omnihelper” in this catches my eye, as it implies a job as both an assistant and someone of a flexible position. “Synesthesia” could apply to Sampo’s ability to travel many places and talk to many people, as well as be a link to several points in Mundanite Assembly where synthetic Curios and the general themes of technological / space-time knowledge are present.

— “Resolve workplace troubles” sounds like it might have a link to the times where Sampo was working with other scholars or researchers in an attempt to, generally, gain different types of knowledge. The “dynamically provided solutions” also sound like part of his position in “Dousing Flames (II)” and “Printed Truths (III)”; essentially, when he was in the vicinity of others he could express his opinions to. Qingque’s comment of “It keeps praising me and asking me to work harder” also lines up with “Dousing Flames (II)” where the only real dialogue options you can pick are expressing optimism or pessimism (not exactly any useful solutions).

— Another interpretation is that this could be his current situation: perhaps he functions as a sort of “helper” within the Masked Fools or even to Aha Themself, doing the dirty work or solving certain issues that come with being as meticulous yet chaotic as the Elation.

— It’s possible that it doesn’t even have anything to do with the Elation at all, but rather Sampo’s general attempts to help Belobog and the Trailblazer, “guiding” us in a way using his wealth of experience and knowledge.

— However, I am fairly sure this state of being an “omnihelper” may be the job he’s expressed burnout with before; constantly being an assistant to someone else in their (or Their) pursuit of certain goals must become tiring after a time, and maybe he finally just wants to prioritize himself for once.

— Also, “(This one’s for real!)” is backed up by a commenter saying it’s a “legitimate product,” which could add to the idea that Sampo really is trying to help, or at least tell us the truth.

— I do think there are certain things that are still difficult or even functionally impossible for him to say, but lord knows he’s trying his best!

— Lil easter egg! It is very cute!

— I like how much he likes us — for the first time, we really get an explicit confirmation he cares about us. Despite the casualness of his facade, there’s a surprising amount of love in there.

— We also feel like we “need to accept these dividends first,” which is yet another tie to his mythological function. Whatever his past lives may have been, whatever differences his backstory may hold, the Sampo we know is the Sampo he is now. He’s still a businessman at heart, and he still wants to help us. And, maybe, for now at least, that’s all that really matters. :)

— Again, it feels like he’s referring to himself here, like he’s surprised at just how many people need his help. Especially when thinking in terms of Belobog and the Trailblazer, there sure seems to be a lot of people who could use the help of someone like him. He also seems to have quite a bit of empathy, asking “How much hardship must people be suffering from…” in a way that seems like he’s… sad? Wistful? Either way, it feels like he understands the need for the “omnihelper” as well as what it symbolizes.

— He comes back to the World’s End Tavern as well, this time detailing how the Tavern only closes its doors to one type of person: someone who is so robot-like that they do the same mundane things over and over.

— At first, I was tempted to say this may be a reference to mass-produced stuffed toys that only exist to be beaten and play the same jingle over and over, but even the stuffed toys have an element of chaos in whether they grant you rewards or not, not even taking into account the spontaneous combustions that can happen. (Plus, “robotic” doesn’t exactly seem like something Aha would be too fond of.)

— Although Sampo quantifies this as a fable, I also feel like he mentions it for a reason — there must be some truth to it, otherwise why would he bring it up? My best guess is, if not the toys, it may be Sampo’s way of speculating over his own existence. If Mundanite Assembly is to be interpreted as Sampo-related, he would have quite literally been a robotic device at some point. Whether he knows the full extent of these past lives or not, he may be wryly (even ironically) noting how the Masked Fools shun the exact type of person he used to be.

— The “Who wouldn’t have an ounce of hectic excitement in their lives? I’d love to meet such a person, haha.” line could be a source of dramatic irony within the story, as we the viewer may be more aware of how his past fits with this than he does himself. It could be him reminiscing on how far he’s come and how much his view of the world has changed, or it could simply be a way for Star Rail to convey a more simple idea: that he simply likes having fun.

— I do feel like it could point towards that “gap” in time we don’t know much about. It’s possible that, for whatever reason, there was a time he was shunned from the Tavern for acting this way, and that’s how he knows so much about it. This could have been incited by them finding out about his past identities, him changing when he gained power or even became an Emanator, or whatever clownfuckery Aha might have going on with him. It could even be indicative of burnout or “Cloud of Doubt.”

— As he said before, if he had been in some sort of unending, mental torment within the Masked Fools (perhaps being used as a plaything or puppet by Aha Themself), then perhaps he had to act like this, had to act like a simple robot unable to do anything but complain over and over and over again until They set him free. He might not even be free, but simply acting in a small reprieve of time granted by trying to deflect the gaze of something or someone determined to find him “interesting.” After all, there’s a chance the people attending that comedy show in “Windup World (III)” liked his opening act a little too much.

— In his last little bit of dialogue, he talks about farces. I’m not sure if this is meant to be about the Masked Fools or Aha directly, as I feel like it could be both. On one hand, his description of a farce’s departure from a regular comedy lines up with he chaos of the Fools, especially the part about the script having no rhythm and the actors stepping on each other’s toes. It definitely seems like each Fool does think they are the center of the world.

— However, the chaos of Aha’s splash art and their “collection” of masks / items could mean this is about Them too — a cynical take from Sampo that turns the concept of “comedic Elation” on its head. “Twisting around together” really reminds me of Aha’s splash art with just how many items are present. Aha as an entity seems to be a very complicated, twisting thing, so even if They aren’t referred to directly in these lines, They may at least be implicated. After all, action and inaction may be the same in Sampo’s eyes. If Aha doesn’t intercede in the Fools’ affairs — simply allowing them to carry on with their farce because it’s amusing to watch — then that may be just as bad as being part of the farce itself. The question becomes: What’s worse — an Aeon making a cruel joke Themself, or an Aeon simply watching in amusement as that cruel joke plays out?

— Either way, we know Sampo has personal experience with this, since he says it sounds “eerily similar to real life” and expresses his explicit distaste. Whether it was the Masked Fools, Aha, or a specific Fool (like the one in “Windup World (III)”), it’s likely Sampo has been deeply annoyed or even hurt by those that carry out the “farce.”

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 7

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Unlocking the secrets of the universe” seems like something pretty big — potentially a goal Sampo is currently trying to reach in the present. (“Just kidding” is, of course, present, but it feels like something tacked on as a half-hearted assurance, perhaps trying to circumvent any speech limitations.)

— “The Manifest Life of Eternally Homing.” To be honest, I didn’t fully understand this one until I read through Mundanite Assembly. I could potentially see it as a wandering Doll!Sampo who surpassed the limitations of his function and is attempting to find who he wants to be, or a Curio Hacker-related want to find answers for a difficult situation. Now, though, especially with the mention of gaining “detailed insights into your past and present lives,” I believe it is referencing the fact Sampo may have lived numerous lives before this one.

— Mundanite Assembly’s stories are a bit unclear to me on if Sampo has ever been aware of his eternally looping forms of existence, but either way I can understand if he wants more information on who he is, who he has been, and honestly, just what the hell is going on. He may even be as confused as we are, attempting to understand anything about his own existence and why he is the way that he is. There’s a chance he may even be breaking the fourth wall in an attempt to subvert the bounds of the game and find information like that hidden in the Unknowable Domain.

— This makes me think that he’s found some sort of higher way, bargain, or deal to use these “big data algorithms” to his advantage; he may be a wonder of nature and engineering, but there are certain things only Emanators or Aeons may be able to help him understand. I’m inclined to say Aha or Nous is involved here, heavy on the Aha. Nous may be willing to help based on how linked Sampo is to all sorts of information (and the fact he is on one big long quest for knowledge), but the mention of “Take It Easy, Icarus” from earlier makes me think Aha is amused at seeing just how far Sampo will be able to go in his search.

— “Guaranteed answers” here makes me go right back to Nous, though, since knowledge is definitely Their domain. Plus, They might help Sampo just because of how significant his existence is in the first place. Hell, maybe both Aha and Nous are in on it at the same time. I can see both sides: Aha interested in seeing how Sampo’s honestly crazy bonkers story continues (if Mundanite Assembly is anything to go by), or Nous directly inspiring him on his quest to find more knowledge about the universe and the nature of his miraculous existence. (IX might even be here, too, due to Sampo’s playable Path.)

— “You will make the same choice as you do now” is an interesting thing for March to mention in her comment; assuming this Curio works, it may say something about her future story or identity. Perhaps there have been other times in her past where she has made similar choices, and no amount of amnesia can change who she is at her core, nor what decisions she will continue to make. (Sampo even confirms a bit of this when he says “your spirit will always stay the same”.)

— It could also point to a loop in Sampo’s existence — most of his lives to tend to meet similar, violent ends (being “broken,” burned alive, shot through the head and the chest, etc.) — which may mean he makes some kind of “butterfly effect” choice over and over and over again to warrant these gruesome demises. (Hey, throwback to the mundane, repeating “robot” from Day 6!) Similarly to March, it’s possible that even if he makes different “choices” in each of his lives, his spirit — the nature of the “Sampo,” the nature of breaking — will always stay the same. It’s an enormous burden to try and escape, that’s for sure.

— (Also, the art of the Curio shows code in the background, perhaps alluding to his self-awareness and awareness of the game itself, as well as his attempts to break free of what is confining him. Additionally, the Curio itself is surrounded by a sort of barrier or seal, which supports the idea he is bound by his current situation — maybe even unable to speak about certain things.)

— Either way, this man has a lot of conditions on his existence, and I wish him all the luck in finding out whatever is going on.

— Even with all this talk of Mundanite Assembly, Sampo still circles back around to the express idea of selling, monetizing, and money-making at the end. While some of the stories in Mundanite Assembly do emphasize research funds and money, I really think it has more to do with who Sampo is now than who he used to be. Perhaps this is part of a “deal” he made, or perhaps this is a core part of his existence finally coming to the forefront.

— In a way, maybe the Elation is helping him reconcile positive emotions with business. “Fun and money-making,” he says, perhaps for the first time. For the first time, he might be able to see himself as more than just a tool, more than just an experiment, more than just a puppet on a string. He has a function, of course, but he’s realized he can fulfill it in a way that’s fun for him. A way that acknowledges his personhood and his value. And honestly, I’m happy for him! So much of his life (even lives) has sucked so incredibly much at so many different points that I just want him to be happy for once, goddamnit!

— “I have nothing to hide anyway” feels true, in a sense. I really do think, given the way he details having drinks with friends at the tavern and exchanging stories, he is telling us as much as he’s possibly able to. He’s honest about his interest in “funny tales” and self-creating stories, and even says the meme was “gifted by a friend” of his. However, there are obvious gaps, clear instances of vague wording where there should be detail. For example, who are the friends he had drinks with? Who was the friend who gifted him the meme? Any amount of detail would suffice. It’s strange that he specifies run-ins with Knights of Beauty and Masked Fools during this event, but can’t provide any tiny hint as to who these friends are now.

— It goes back to my theory that he is bound by certain limitations, that he can only say or do certain things — when it seems he is approaching too close to a topic, he becomes this vague, cryptic mess. I feel like this “friend” might be whoever he’s made a deal with, or whoever is responsible for his limitations. Perhaps that’s why he can’t specify who they are — because he literally can’t. Of course I want to believe this is Aha, but it could also be literally anyone else of higher power.

— Sampo also mentions he’s had adventurous run-ins, much like the Nameless. It makes sense, then, why he would feel a sort of kinship with us; especially if his “past lives” are as varied as those mentioned in Mundanite Assembly, he may feel a sort of connection with how often the Nameless change stories and locations. Constantly traveling, constantly fighting, constantly being thrust into new and unexplored situations — that seems very much like something that would be related to Sampo.

— (Also, “hot-blooded” past is specific and interesting wording. I remember his blood literally boiling in “Resleeved (III)” so it could be a more literal take on events, or it could be indicative of a time, likely with the Masked Fools, where he was, to put it simply, probably batshit crazy. At the very least, he might’ve been impulsive, arrogant, or combative, really anything that would match with the connotations of “hot-blooded”. It could also reference events like his revenge in “Windup World (I)”.)

— “It’s pointless to talk about my past adventures” also feels like he’s trying to avoid a topic where he may have limitations on what he can say. “Pointless” may be that he doesn’t think we need to know, or it may be that it simply wouldn’t be worth the effort of fighting against some limitation he can’t surpass in the first place.

— The, he leaves to “go have a drink,” which, besides having links to the Elation’s goblet-filled imagery, establishes that Sampo is a man who likes to have a drink. And just what did Boothill find that Elation Emanator doing? Exactly.

— I also love the idea of a full circle here, as “Printed Truths (II)” deals explicitly with the lack of the ability to synthesize Curios, and here we are… synthesizing Curios. You go get ‘em, Sampo!

— And, obviously, we have the first explicit depiction of Sampo’s mythology in canon: dialogue lines taken straight from the Kalevala. I’m not too clear on how this fits into specific theories, only that it directly plays into his theme of “producing wealth,” as well as being trapped in a situation where he must carry out his function. The “function” itself could be Elation-related, laughter-related (as mentioned on Day Four), money/wealth-related (as supported by Aha Stuffed Toy and his mythology itself), or even all three!

— One thing’s for sure, he is one enigma of a man. He’s at least aware enough of the poem to sing it, although it’s unclear if it exists in-universe or if this is yet another crazy fourth wall-break.

— Anyways, I’ve yapped long enough, it’s time for me to summarize my thoughts!

— Here it is: the event summarized in all its glory. Let’s get into the breakdown!

— General: Clearly, Sampo is trying to tell us something with all of this. It’s just too… detailed, chronological, as if taken from his own experiences. I feel like there are certain things he can’t or won’t say, and as such has to rely on this “pop-up shop” as a means of talking his way around the subject, hoping we’ll pick up what he’s trying to put down. At the very least, he just wants to have a little fun. At face value, we’re simply synthesizing random Curios. But nothing’s ever so simple with Sampo, so there’s something here. The only issue is getting down to what it is; and, well, if you’ve read this far, you’ve probably realized there’s a lot of options. The event is specific yet vague, general yet complicated, shallow yet incredibly deep. And honestly? I still don’t know what it all means. I can only do my best to speculate. So speculate I shall!

— Mundanite Assembly: Day One and Two would be his original form, floating in the ether and untouched by man (likely mechanical in nature); Day Three would be this original form being harnessed by the woman in “Those Remembered (I)”, being “stolen” from wherever he was waiting; Day Four and Five, generally, may deal with events surrounding the experimentation in “Resleeved” and subsequent research in “Dousing Flames” (I am more inclined to put “Dousing Flames” with Day Four due to the running theme of fire, although the phoenix imagery may fit with experimentation more); Day Six would be “Printed Truths” and the Path research that went on there; Day Seven would be the present, with Sampo attempting to understand his “past lives,” either through revealing what they were in the first place, or gaining some sort of key insight based on memories he already has. He is likely trying to convey his existence in a way that won’t overwhelm us, and also in a way that works with whatever “limitations” he has. His talk of the Fools would place “Windup World (III)” as the beginning of the time gap, where we just have his word to go off of. In this time, he likely experienced that cruel puppet joke, joined the Fools, and potentially gained power or some sort of “deal” to accomplish his goals going forward.

— Doll!Sampo: Simply put, chronologically, an element being drawn into form — created — by the act of “stealing” something from the heavens, then turned into an Aha Stuffed Toy that must laugh to survive (even through external force). This would be Days One through Three. Day Four would be a “phoenix-like” rebirth into an Emanator or Fool of higher status, which Day Five would then turn into a specific niche for him to occupy in Aha’s “collection” — that of a helper or assistant. Day Six is once again indicative of the present, with him trying to subvert the conditions of his own existence as a creation of Elation. It’s also possible that Mundanite Assembly happened long ago and, after being messed with by the Fools, Sampo was “stolen” and reforged into a toy by Aha or even the Fools themselves. (Basically, Mundanite Assembly and Doll!Sampo don’t have to conflict with one another; they can still fit chronologically. It’s possible the Sampo we know now has all the past backstory Mundanite Assembly has to offer, but the event simply starts at the act of Aha plucking him out and “stealing” him.)

— Aha!Sampo: Days One and Two would indicate a “conceptual” or Aeonic existence, while Day Three and Four would be Aha potentially finding a way to have a mortal form or siphon some part of Themself into a “vessel.” Day Five would be the “rebirth” of either a new Aha taking the old one’s place, or Aha’s consciousness being reborn into this new form. Day Five would be this new persona — that of a helper — which would then lead to Day Six, where They attempt to find Their true purpose beyond the restrictions of the Primum Mobile (or even circumvent those restrictions in the first place).

— Emanator!Sampo: No matter what theory we’re dealing with, I’m inclined to say Day Four or Day Six are the best indicators of a shift to Emanatorhood. Day Four has its imagery of phoenix rebirth, which could symbolize a shift in power or a rebirth into a higher form of existence, while Day Six could be his present status breaking through the fourth wall and attempting to accomplish whatever it is his current goal is. This can work with Mundanite Assembly and Doll Theory, as in those I’ve already mentioned how I feel Emanator status could work.

— Non-Chronological: This could, generally, not even be about a specific order of events in Sampo’s life, but rather different parts of his worldview, identity, or interests. It’s possible that all of these conditions exist at the same time — he may be conceptual, and organic, and a toy, and a jumble of code, and a phoenix in the process of rebirth. This would allow for a more experimental look at things, with all structure set aside to look at the core of who he is. He’s not just something stolen, but a helper, too. He’s not just a lost soul looking to circumvent the lines of code that bind him, he’s a man in a constant state of rebirth, inventing and re-inventing himself until he’s satisfied. He’s burning his wings while being trapped in the confines of ice, laughing because he has to and sparking because he doesn’t. He’s everything, all at once.

— Non-Identity: If not Sampo’s identity, these Curios could be symbolic of people he knows, or simply just Curios he finds interesting. My most viable thought here is that each Curio symbolizes a part of Aha’s “collection” — or Their Emanators who all have different purposes and personalities. I want to say Sampo is symbolized by Day Six because of the Curio Hacker occurrence, with other Curios being Emanators who range from pure elemental energy to machine devices to stuffed toys. Although, it is possible Sampo can be shuffled around here, as Doll!Sampo is more likely to be the ice cube and his current “helper” role lines up with “Synesthesia Omnihelper.” Sampo can actually fit with all of these, which is why I really feel like it is identity-related, but I still wanted to cover all the bases I could.

Overall, wow, that’s a lot! If I’m being completely honest, I’m still confused (as I feel most of us are). The more I think about this event, the more it seems like a giant puzzle box to me, turning and turning and turning again every time I get close to an answer. Perhaps that’s how Sampo feels about his own existence, and why he’s trying so hard to figure himself out. I really hope this analysis didn’t come across as a scattered mess, because that’s definitely what I felt like writing it. I wanted to get my thoughts out, but there are so many alternative options and theories that I could barely get my head straight! It felt nice to get it out, though, and whatever happens, I’m happy we got to talk to Sampo again. He’s just so interesting! Anyways, I’m going to go take a nice, long nap now. I’ll leave you with some key questions to consider — bye!

.✦ ── ✦.

Key Questions

.✦ ── ✦.

— Did Aha “steal” Sampo from another creator, such as an Aeon or organization? If so, how and for what purpose? (If not Aha, then who may have “stolen” him?)

— What is Sampo’s true identity? We know certain things about his mythological function, but how does that translate into the HSR universe?

— What is the timeline of his “abandonment”? When was he left on Belobog, and by who? Was Belobog even the place he was left, or was it somewhere else?

— Was he originally elemental energy, electricity, or something conceptual? Was he organic or inorganic? And, if Aha did “steal” him, what changes were made to his form?

— How does Sampo feel about Aha? Is Aha a cruel, thieving presence in his life? Are They an accepting, freeing one? Are They a distant, unreachable god? Are They a mix of all three?

— What is Sampo’s relationship with the Aha Stuffed Toys? Was he created as one himself? Was he turned into one when he was stolen? Did he “create” them at the behest of Aha? Does he simply act as a middleman to get them from one place to another?

— What is Sampo's connection to Mundanite Assembly, if any? How might the days of this event fit in with each "chapter" of the Unknown Domain chronology?

— And, for heaven's sake, who the hell is this man?

— thanks for reading to the end! :)

— here's links (one | two) to posts with the memes i wanted to include because i literally hit the image limit on this LOL!

#⌞ ✎ sunder.writes ⌝#⌞ ✧ super.nova ⌝#⌞ 🎭 ⌝#hsr #honkai: star rail #sampo #sampo koski #sampo hsr #hsr sampo #sampo honkai star rail #hsr analysis #hsr theory #honkai star rail

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rabbitbites · 3 hours ago

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ask and you shall receive my friend :3333 (full analysis under the cut)

okay, i’ll do a quick run down on the elevator scene for the uninitiated:

asuka enters the elevator to find that rei is already there, rei stands in front of the door while asuka lingers in the back, as far away from rei as possible. they stand in silence for several seconds

rei tells asuka that she needs to open her heart to her eva in order to properly pilot it. this makes asuka mad

asuka insults shinji and calls rei a doll, and rei denies this which only makes asuka more upset

asuka hits rei (or tries to if you’re watching the rebuild) then exits the elevator, declaring that she hates everyone

obviously, asuka is killua and rei is illumi

their initial conversation doesn’t matter much, illumi gives killua some sort of correction and it pisses killua off. in the rebuild asuka accuses rei of being a nepo baby, and claims that rei has never had to work for what she has. i can see killua maybe having a similar mindset in terms of feeling like he has to work much harder to do the things illumi does with ease, but it doesn’t quite land the same killua being the heir and all.

and then we get the line where asuka calls rei a doll:

“when an emotionless wind up doll like you starts being sympathetic, im doomed!”

and in the rebuild,

“you’re only the commander’s (silva) favorite because you’re a suck up! his obedient little doll that does every single thing he says!”

“i am not a doll”

“you are! you do anything you’re ordered to! you’d kill yourself if your commander (again, silva) told you to, wouldn’t you?”

“of course”

and then a few lines later,

“you are a robot, just like i thought! you’re an unthinking emotionless puppet! i hate you!”

these lines are the real meat of the scene and they give us a very good look into the minds of both characters

for one, asuka is upset that she was bested by someone who she views as “barely a person” it’s like spending years training to be the world’s best chess player only to be immediately beaten by a computer

and for two, the same way that illumi is the perfect assassin, rei is the perfect pilot and from asuka’s vantage point, the only way to surpass her is to become like her and put up with just as much as she does which is completely unacceptable to asuka

the parallels aren’t hard to draw from there, anything killua does illumi can do better, illumi is perfectly obedient to their father, he describes the perfect assassin as a “puppet of darkness with no wants or desires of their own” a description that illumi fits perfectly and which is the last thing that killua wants to become

in other to “win” in the eyes of their father and the rest of the family, killua must become a carbon copy of illumi, and this makes killua resent him

@illukillu sorry for the at but i wanted you to see this since i used your tags :p

killua and illumi in nge elevator scene…..

can anyone hear me……..

#there’s a lot more parallels between illumi and rei that i might talk about later #but a lot of that gets into head canon territory so i’m a little hesitant #specifically both of them being kind of a sub in mother/wife #as a child having to fill the role of mother for another child #and having to fill the role of wife for an adult #yes i’m an illumi/silva truther #die by my blade #anyway #killua zoldyck #illumi zoldyck #hxh #nge #hunter x hunter #illukillu

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fungi-maestro · 5 months ago

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My beautiful baby questionable purchases < 3

#seal.txt #book club #action figures #i want to get a doll stand for him at some point #for now he can just sit in that plastic bag i guess

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lxnarphase · 6 months ago

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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji fushiguro x black reader #black reader #🔪 ── toji.#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months ago

Text

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always.

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing.

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side.

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow.

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking.

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips.

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.”

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late.

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you.

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you.

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit.

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep.

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed.

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form.

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut.

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed.

Barely an hour passed before you woke.

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain.

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath.

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times.

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug.

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you.

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.”

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.”

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door.

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine.

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer.

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back.

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.”

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips.

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen.

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks.

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features.

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly.

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin.

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone.

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core.

“To what, huh?”

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth.

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you.

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks.

“I want you to fuck me, please!”

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra.

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well.

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off.

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours.

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle.

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff.

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch.

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy.

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit.

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch.

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.”

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess.

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper.

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity.

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him.

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him.

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you.

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up.

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic.

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free.

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal.

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?”

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.”

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh.

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.”

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…”

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times.

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach.

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets.

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately.

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside.

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him.

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open.

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him.

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach.

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up.

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable.

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth.

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below.

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit.

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own.

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace.

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back.

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half.

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.”

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own.

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table.

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south.

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?”

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yumeboshi · 6 months ago

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𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

#𐙚．。articles #honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail smut #yandere sunday #honkai star rail yandere #sunday x reader #sunday smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #yandere aventurine #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #hsr smut #yandere hsr #hsr x reader

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soleilchanson · 21 days ago

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The one where Toji gets a buzz cut.

Masterlist

-•-

You dropped the grocery bags on the ground when you were greeted by your boyfriend.

But not out of excitement or happiness.

“No! Your glorious hair!” You dramatically walked to him so you could take a closer look at the damage. Toji, being the evil man he was, laughed at your response. “What d’ya think? I hated my hair covering my eyes while I was on missions so I tried something new.”

“Something new? You look like a felon!” You groaned as your hands roamed around his scalp, hoping for a miracle that would grow his hair back.

“Alright, that’s too far. I thought chicks dug this look.”

“Not on you! Maybe some weirdo that doesn’t look like an assassin for hire.”

“But I am one.”

“That’s besides the point, Toji. You’ve hurt me. By cutting off your hair you’ve also cut off any ties you had with me.” You sulk.

Toji was starting to feel self conscious even when he knew the adjustment phase would go away. “Do I really look that bad, doll?”

“No, but-“

“There’s a but? Okay, that’s it, I’m not touching you from now on. Since I look so bad, you can come to me when you find me attractive.” Okay this was turned into a real argument and you started to get agitated too.

“Fine! Let’s see who’ll last longer.”

Toji simply scoffed and walked back into his man cave.

Who knows how long you guys were planning to do this for?

-•-

A long time. You both can go without touching each other for a long time. It had been a week and a half without any physical intimacy but the relationship was normal, you both spoke about anything and everything. Neither of you were showing signs of caving in (or were just that good at hiding it).

It was a quiet afternoon. Toji was out buying some last minute ingredients for dinner and you were starting to miss him. And as much you hated to admit, the buzz cut was growing on you. Just the other day you had to fan yourself when you saw Toji doing pushups where he looked like an underground fighter prepping for his next match.

To distract yourself you decided to spend your time calling your friend instead. You put her on speaker while you organized your closet.

“Girl, what do you mean it’s ugly? It’s all the rage right now.”

“I know. I hated it when he first got it and now all I can think about is pouncing on him. Ugh, I hate myself.”

“You live together. Just go touch him, you fool.”

“No, I’ll lose and I can’t lose to him. He’s always winning bets between the two of us.”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes until your friend had some urgent business to attend to.

You turned around to grab the rest of clothes and shrieked when you saw a tall figure standing in the door way.

It was Toji. “Did you hear everything?”

“I’ve been here since you admitted that my haircut was hot. Do what you will with that info.”

You sighed as you sat down on the bed. “I guess that means you win.” He could tell you were pouting even when you were turned away from him. He smiled at your childishness and gathered you in his arms and made you lay on top of him as he laid down on the bed. “There, you won.”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. I admitted that I wanted you first so you’re still the winner.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know I’ve been thinking about pouncing on you since the day I got my haircut. I wanted to do it out of spite cause I knew you’d cave in but then we made that stupid bet.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. You do not look bad at all, Toji. In fact, you look like a hot felon. The type of felon that has a girlfriend who visits him.” You mumbled as you played with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Uhuh, and does she do overnight visits?” He then started attacking your face with kisses as you start giggling.

It was you and your hot felon against the world.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #jujutsu toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #toji fluff #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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inkedbybarnes · 8 months ago

Text

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction

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murdrdocs · 3 months ago

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80s pornstar logan; age gap; pornstar reader x pornstar logan; doggy; brat!reader MDNI 18+ w/ LOGAN HOWLETT

logan doesn't trust you.

he doesn't know you well enough for you to have gained his trust, but he refuses to get to know you. there's no point. in logan's eyes, there's no reason for you to get comfortable.

you won't be here for long.

he doesn't care how much the studio believes in you, he doesn't believe in you. how could he? you're so fucking green that he can smell it on you. only starred in a couple movies before this one, both nothing compared to the expansive record that he has.

gum-smacking, lip gloss shining under the sun, flowy shirts, and tiny shorts. compared to his cigars, fitted jeans, and plaid, the two of you are polar opposites. even though logan sees something in you. that same arrogance he had at your age. it just looks different on you.

you confront him first. standing beside his car in the studio parking lot, resting your hip on the door like it’s your vehicle. you’re blocking the entrance, lazily smacking your gum as you squint at him.

logan doesn’t say anything. he stands there, hands on his hips, his restless fingers tapping against the worn leather of his belt. he shamelessly lets his eyes rake down your body, taking in the natural shape of your tits through your loose shirt, the expanse of your legs barely covered by your tiny shorts. briefly, logan wonders if you’re shaved like some of the other younger girls he’s filmed with.

he finds himself wanting to find out.

he’s wearing his shades, the thin wire-framed ones with brown lenses. he knows they aren’t opaque, he knows you can see the path his eyes take, but he doesn’t care. he holds off a smile when you adjust your stance and scoff.

“what’s your problem with me?”

logan shrugs dismissively.

apparently, his nonchalance upsets you even more. he expects you to give him some speech about how rude he is, how you deserve to be here just as much as he does, how you earned your spot in this production. whatever your little brain can come up with.

but you give him none of that. you push off of logan's truck, step out of his way, and saunter off with a final call of, "see you on wednesday!".

logan lets his eyes linger on the switch in your hips and the shape of your ass.

his eyes find that same spot on wednesday, his view unobstructed now as your bare skin is illuminated underneath the studio lights. he's just staring and he can't stop. his eyes watching the way your skin ripples as he fucks you from behind, following the curve of your back, all the way up to the crown of your head which reaches for him.

he knows at some point he's supposed to grab the ponytail you have. the director wants him to mess it up as much as possible, providing a good contrast from how dolled up you were before. most of that has been done naturally. for some reason, everything with you seems natural. logan's been in the game for a while, he's had to fake scenes before. it's part of the job description, to act according to how the audience would want the sex to go. but with you, logan doesn't think he's been acting at all.

the energy buzzes around his entire body the entire time. he doesn't ever forget that you're both being filmed, it would be hard to, but he loses himself in it. he loses himself in the way you know just what to do. the way you angle your body perfectly according to the camera position, the way you speak to him, the way you're so visibly remembering every single direction you were giving before filming began.

your competence is hot.

by the time filming is over and a production assistant is handing you a warm towel and your robe, logan's fucking spent.

you're just there grinning, watching logan down an entire bottle of water in one go. when he comes up for air, you stand before him, keeping your eyes on his.

"i see why you're known for your stamina," is all you say to him before you turn away and disappear, possibly unaware of the semi that was brewing beneath the towel covering logan's hips.

the next time logan sees you, it's through a headshot. sitting on the casting director's desk, amongst three others, all labeled with names and facing him. he stands there for a second, hands crossed over his chest as he scans every picture.

"we just need to know who you think would be good for the next job," the casting director reiterates, his words smooth as they wrap around logan's mind.

logan doesn’t know why he’s pretending, why he's taking so long to answer a question that he knows the answer to.

he slides your picture up higher than the rest and leaves it at that.

#adult actor logan #logansworld!#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #celeste writes mcu

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sincerelybubbles · 2 months ago

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ok shy bau reader and the team finally managed to get her to come a rossi dinner party so she can meet the rest of the team families that she hasn’t met yet, maybe after her first date with hitch and the team realized quickly she softened very fast with the kids and jack and her just seemed to click really fast and jack had her talking more than any of the team has so far… hotch is star eyes

hotch x shy!bau!reader \\ Dinner and Delights

Warnings: brief mention/allusions to Christianity. Otherwise, fluff! More insight into what Aaron is thinking :) I got very carried away, I hope you enjoy <3

"Woah hot stuff, where are you going so fast?" Morgan intercepts you with an arm around your shoulder as you attempt to slip out of the BAU unnoticed. "Hopefully to get ready for our big dinner plans?"

It's not that you don't want to go to one of Rossi's famous dinner parties, you're just afraid that your sub-par social skills would be noticeable by tenfold in a more casual environment.

At work, you can hide your quietness by talking about the psychology of the unsub, your specialty as a licensed psychologist. You can pretend you're not hiding in your shell when the team is all laughing and talking about personal lives by quietly listening while pretending to read your maps and journals. You can observe them and spend time with them, because you do truly love them all at this point, without feeling bad that you prefer to listen over talk.

And that's really it - you prefer to listen to them. You would say you've all but warmed up to all of them. You like Morgan's teasing, Emily's stories, Reid's rambling, Rossi's sarcasm, and Hotch's...

Everything, but the thought snaps you back to the present before you can dwell on memories of a sweet date in a dark restaurant.

"Of course," you succeed, nodding and sending him a tight-lipped smile.

"Hey," he slows you down and stops in the hallway, turning you to face him gently before lifting his hands in a placating gesture as if you were an animal he expects to run. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with but I promise none of us are trying to lead our little lamb to slaughter. We know you're quiet," the admission embarrasses you and makes you feel guilty pleasant that he sounds so gentle about it, "and nobody minds, I think it's cute and I think the rest are just happy our other genius isn't as vocal as Reid."

Your nose scrunches at the small dig and you open your mouth to protest at putting Reid down to lift you up.

"And look at that! Another thing we all love - you're quiet but won't let anyone say anything about the other behind their back. You're a good person, we all just want to spend some less-intense time with you. So, go home and doll yourself up, and get ready to see Hotch wine tipsy. We all know that's your main motivator." Morgan winks at you and moves quickly down the hall and away from you, laughing, before you can protest.

He's not wrong, though, and you shake your head as you move toward the elevator.

You end up on Rossi's doorstep, choking the neck of a bottle of expensive wine between two sweaty palms. Your heart is in your throat, nerves humming in anticipation.

Your team cares about you. Nobody expects you to be anything you're not. Gentle affirmations meant to soothe over your skin in gently lapping waves erupt into steam; like water hitting lava rock. You're too tense, too worried about not saying enough or too much; saying the wrong thing or saying the right thing only once and never living up to the expectation of repeated occurrences.

"Hey," Emily says from behind you. You turn to see her jogging up to stand beside you, brushing off her pants and adjusting her jacket. "You brought wine!" She cheers happily, reaching past you to turn the nob and open the door.

She gestures you inside, making no comment about your obvious hesitance. With her by your side, your nerves are calmed. Aside from Aaron, she's the easiest for you to be around. You don't feel any expectations with Emily. She doesn't talk too much or too little, doesn't push, doesn't ever send a pitying look when you opt out of activities outside of work.

"Château Lafite," you say to her, lifting the wine and shaking it gently in the air as you walk inside.

"Oh! Fancy wine."

"Wine?" Rossi asks, rounding a corner. He's dressed slightly more casually in a soft sweater and jeans, drying his hands off with a pristine dish towel. "The more the merrier, bring it in here."

You follow his gesture back into the kitchen, leaving Emily to go to what you presume is the living or dining area.

"Where did you find this?" Rossi asks, taking the wine from you to examine it and letting out a low whistle as he appreciates it.

"Just my local winery," you say, neglecting to admit that you go there often enough that the owner leaves the nicer stuff behind the counter for you.

Lonely nights crave wine, twisting them into lovely things you can appreciate. You enjoy your own company after years of quietly observing others. You've learned how to observe yourself, too, after all of these years.

And, even though you don't quite realize it, the self-awareness carries like confidence. That's what Aaron sees in you: observant eyes darting across a room and noticing everything, understanding flickering before anyone else catches a cue, deft movements across the paper while taking notes, and swift motions always with a purpose.

It's what he sees now, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans while he leans in the doorway of Rossi's kitchen, watching you. How could he not? You're a lovely creature, always begging for his eyes to settle on you for another second, and then another.

He knows the moment you realize he's in the room, minutes before Rossi. You stand straighter, tilt your chin lower, and are aware far before you tilt your head to the side to send him a soft smile. He returns it before Rossi can catch him. It's a warmth he wants to reserve for you.

"Dave," he interrupts the other man's monologuing about the wine he's sure you already know all about, "Jack would like to know if he and Spencer can use your chess set when he gets here?"

"Of course, I'll get it from my study." Rossi leaves, passing you the wine and gesturing to the opener.

Aaron steps in before you can start the process of opening the wine. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to do it for you. He finds himself wanting that more and more recently: to do simple tasks for the sole purpose of you not having to do them. Opening doors and pulling out chairs are simple gestures that he did with Hayley, but he wants to do sillier, smaller, things, too. Straighten the pens on your desk back into their cup, reorganize the files on your desktop, untangle the wires of the headphones he really should reprimand you for using at your desk, open a damn bottle of wine he can't pronounce the name of but that he heard you say so gently to Emily as you walked in.

"Jack's here?" You ask, handing him the wine and crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter to watch him work.

He relishes how your eyes focus on his arms, pupils dilating, as his muscles work under his thin henley.

"Yes, I have him this weekend and he likes to spend time with Reid and Garcia."

He has to step closer to reach above you to get the wine glasses. He could ask you to step aside, tuck his hand against your waist to move you himself, or simply walk into the next room to grab the glasses sitting on the table. But, instead, he tucks one foot in between yours, puts one hand on the back of your head to guard it from the cabinet, and opens it to find the nicer crystal there.

Your breath hitches across his neck and he remembers the chaste kisses he's given you before. Nothing serious, nothing has been yet because he's waiting for you to lead him into that, but tantalizing nonetheless. He steps back to pour the wine, standing closer to you than he started.

A little for you, passed gently, and then a little for him. Dave could pour his own glass.

You take the wine and sip it slowly, tongue darting out to taste before you sip. He's reminded of communion as a child. The blood of christ, sacred, something to be tasted but not meant to satiate. Reverence in a sip, devotion in a small act.

He wants to give you the same thing. The desire hits him in the sternum, suddenly, leaving him winded as he watches you lower the glass. Your eyes are locked on his, you haven't seemed as hesitant about holding his gaze recently - something that makes him melt - and he wonders if you can feel how he wants to take care of you. How he wants to show you the same force that water uses to carve canyons. Persistence and pressure, time and care. He's willing to take his time, he's filled with the same patience as everything all together in nature. He's a rabbit perched on its hind legs, sniffing the wind for safety before darting forward; the bird hung in flight between beats of wings, the whisper of wind carrying small seeds miles away to wait and watch the growth. Wait, wait, wait, however long it takes, he's there. For you.

It's a strong feeling to fully realize in David Rossi's kitchen, but he's grateful for it, anyway.

"It's good," you comment softly, eyes smiling.

"Is it?" He asks, setting his glass down and retaking his spot nearer to you. He misses your warmth. "Can I?" He asks, brushing his fingers across your jugular before cupping your cheek.

"Taste the wine?" You tease, eyes flickering to his glass. The gentle jest pulls a chuckle from his chest. Another thing you've become more comfortable doing around him. His blood and bones sing at how familiar you can be with him.

"Yes," he says in a breath, dipping his head down to brush his lips against yours.

And you're reciprocating - you've always reciprocated, enthusiastically, just never in the pressing way you are now. You set down your own glass to hold his arms in both of your hands. Fingers dig into his arm as you sigh and open your mouth, new lands to explore, tilting your head back to grant him full access.

"Daddy?" Jack asks and Aaron pulls away, a man parched and staring at an oasis in the middle of a desert, before Jack can round the corner. He doesn't go far, though, hand traveling down to the small of your back as he turns.

"Jack?" Aaron replies, waiting for him to come around the corner.

"Hello," Jack says, stopping in the doorway and looking up at you with wide eyes.

You've met him a few times before, always in passing, but you still smile warmly and wave at him.

"Hi, Jack."

"Do you know how to play chess?" Jacks asks. Aaron smiles at the eagerness on his son's face.

"Yes, I do. Would you like to play?"

"Yes please!" Jack jumps forward to grab your hand, pulling you into the living room before you can react.

You go easily, though, following him with a gentle laugh that warms the coldest parts of him. Pieces of him he doesn't think have seen the light in years brighten at the sound. He's heard you laugh before but something about the sight of you laughing because of Jack illuminates needs that he didn't even know he had. Needs you're meeting before he can feel the yawning desire of them.

He follows, unable to resist the desire to see you two interact over and over again. You're setting up the board, listening to Jack chatter on, nodding intently.

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julietsbody · 10 months ago

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innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

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