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lacroixqueen · 5 months ago

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i look in people's windows (18+, noncon) stalker deadpool x office worker reader

Summary: deadpool starts stalking reader after seeing her in a coffee shop. breaks into her apartment and does typical depraved wade shit

Pairing: stalker!deadpool x office worker reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: stalking, trespassing, noncon, dubcon

He didn’t realize he was so fascinated with you initially. At first glance, you looked like any other plain Jane office worker in the city: rushing to the front of the cafe to grab a tray of half-cold coffees before bolting out the door.

Why is she in such a hurry, he mused to himself, watching you scurry down the block, the corner of your white blouse poking out of your gray pencil skirt. Acting like she’s saving the world or about to perform brain surgery or something. Another Marvel Jesus wannabe. What makes her think she’s so important anyway?

He went back to sipping his bitter espresso, returning to his original state of solitude, until he couldn’t shake you out of his head. Fuck it. Something urged him to get out of his seat, leave the coffee store, and follow you out.

He trailed behind you by about a block or so. He took note of your black tights, and how your skirt ended at the mid-level of your thighs. And that stupid click-clack sound of your heels against the cobblestone. So self-righteous.

He eventually followed you into a skyscraper building. He watched you weave through the crowd, past the front desk, and into a back elevator. Wade quickened his pace to be able to catch you just in the nick of time.

He darted into the elevator right before the doors were about to close.

“Floor?” you asked politely, looking up at him with those god awful innocent eyes that made him want to bend you over the nearest desk and fuck you senseless.

“I’m so glad you asked!” he piped, ever so chipper. “I’ll be.. Uh. Floor. 85.”

“Oh, this building only has 60 floors!” you said. “Which department are you going to? Oooh, love the costume by the way. Maybe you’re headed to the photo studio? That’s going to be on 54. You take a left, then a right, and.. it should be straight there!”

And so polite too. God, could she be anymore insufferable, Deadpool thought to himself, tilting his head to the side as if to psychoanalyze your disposition.

“Does.. that sound right?” you asked, a bit nervous now that the stranger dressed in all black and red sharing the enclosed space with you was no longer speaking.

“Yes,” he replied, a little bit too quickly for comfort.

You pushed the corresponding button without another word, and then retreated back to your corner of the elevator. A few seconds of silence passed when your phone suddenly started beeping out of control.

“Hello?” you asked nervously. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I’m coming right away. Yes? Uh huh. Mhm. Okay. Got it. Thank you. Bye.” You ended the call with a subtle click and slipped the phone back into your pocket.

So she’s eager to please. A perfectionist. Interesting, he thought, jotting down a mental note.

The elevator reached an upcoming floor with a crisp ‘ding’, followed by the doors gliding open.

“Have a great day!” you called over your shoulder as you stepped out, about to walk expeditiously to your cubicle, balancing the tray of coffees in your shaky grip. “Oh, and you should take one of these, they are still hot!”

You handed him one of the skinny vanilla lattes in the tray before the elevator doors closed between you.

Wade took it without a thought. And he didn’t hesitate to follow you, of course. Ducking behind office plants and hallway walls just to see where you were going without drawing too much attention. He was quick enough to catch a glimpse of your full name on your cubicle placard.

Bullseye, he thought mischievously to himself, before slinking away into the nearest stairwell.

He somehow directed himself to the records department in the basement, carefully rifling through the employee directory to match your name with any corresponding information.

“Y/N..” he muttered to himself, leafing through the enormous book in the back of the storage room. “Goddamnit. Where the hell are you.. Aha! Full government name, phone number, and mailing address. Who even needs those shady paywalled identity finder websites anyways.”

Later that evening, he made it a point to break into your apartment before you came home. He was methodical, ensuring to cover all his steps, so that no trace was left behind. The lock to your doorknob was easy enough to pick. It look several bent-out-of-shape paper clips of course, and a lot of perseverance, but he somehow cracked the code.

He liked the way you decorated your space. Those cute little succulents in clay pots with smiley faces on them. Colorful candles and warm-toned tarps. Trinkets and crystals adorning cherry wooden shelves. Overgrown plants strewn across the floor. And books. Heaps of them.

“Well I’ll be,” he huffed to himself, standing in the center of the living room, hands on his hips. “I never took you to be an interior designer. Chip and Joanna would have a run for their money if they ever got a load of this..”

He played with the string of beads you hung from the ceiling, until the wooden dresser you had pushed into the corner caught his attention.

“Ohohohoho, now what do we have here..” he chuckled, prancing around your furniture to open up the first drawer. He was immediately greeted by your collection of underwear, folded neatly and sorted in a way he pictured an office worker would. He flickered his fingertips over the tops of them, as if he was a kid in a candy store picking out his favorite treat.

“So organized and efficient!” he commented, rifling through the perfectly placed rows and columns with curiosity. “It’s like the love child of OCD and a very high grade personality disorder.. color me impressed.”

“Eenie, meenie, minie, you!” he exclaimed with glee, eyeing a pair of stretchy, black tights and lifting it out as if he was plucking a rose from a vine.

Just like the ones she wore this morning, he mused.

His fingers glided across the fabric, gently rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. He stretched it out as much as he could, pulling it, teasing it, pretending as if it was on you.

He decided to get comfortable on your couch, playing with your tights in between his gloved fingertips.

“Well, out of all the things I’ve done to be put on a government watchlist, this one definitely takes the cake,” he murmured to himself as he lazily lifted up his mask, licking the stretched out nylon with his greedy tongue. He sucked on it desperately, as if he could somehow taste you on the fabric, his saliva dripping down the side of his chin.

His fingers twirled around the black bows on the sides, pulling so hard one of them came undone. Without wasting another moment, he unbuckled his belt and slightly zipped down his fly, releasing his already hardened cock. Slipping the dainty cloth over it, he began to indulge himself in a way that he never predicted he would this morning.

He tilted his head back into the soft cushion of the sofa, stroking himself with your elastic tights between his fingertips, imagining you were bouncing on top of him with them on.

“Fuck, Y/N..” he breathed, gritting his teeth as he continued to pleasure himself. “Why did you have to wear something so slutty at 7 in the morning? I mean what kind of a sociopath does such a thing? You’d think people would have common courtesy these days, but I guess not.”

He groaned softly as he came into your tights, his cum infiltrating through the thin fabric, leaving them absolutely soaked. Breathing heavily, he got up to toss the tainted pantyhose into the trash.

Finding a scrap piece of paper and pen, he decided to leave you a little note of gratitude on your kitchen table before he left your apartment, scribbling a messy sketch of his mask making a blushing face and a lop-sided heart:

“Thanks for the coffee!”

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swanqueendaughter · 7 months ago

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I just watched a video from the Bridgerton costume department explaining the predominance of one color or another in the main families of the series. for example, the color palette of the Bridgerton is more classic and rich: babyblue,lilac,navyblue,pale green (old money),Featherington are more citrus: yellow,green,orange (Versace), Cowper: pink,purple,gold,wine.

And now I can't help thinking that, of course, in part the use of one color or another speaks about the financial status of the family, it also speaks about the proximity of a particular character to the family. For example, Penelope's gradual entry into the Bridgerton family can also be traced in the change of colors of her outfits.

And kill me for my delulu thoughts, but how am I supposed to survive the collapse of Creloise, when Cressida Cowper, the pink world ambassador, dared to change her usual color to the brand color of the Bridgerton family. How am I supposed to get rid of this parallel between them and the main couple of the season?? Your Honor, Eloise Bridgerton and Cressida Cowper are Endgame (and yes I am delulu).

#eloise bridgerton #cressida cowper #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #bright colors #lgbtq #creloise #Ofcourseitwasbeforeeloisefuckedtheirfriendshipup #eloise x cressida #cressida x eloise

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rootspiral · 17 days ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

wow this is another difficult one to go through. okay. okay.

it's been 57 years since we saw agatha kill her mother and the salemites - agatha should now be around 74, 75. how many of those years has she spent with rio? even if they met right away, that is a comparatively short time considering their long lives (rio's especially) and the almost 300 years they stayed separated afterwards.

the first thing we notice about the scene: just how damn green it is.

the forest and the river - rio, nature, is everywhere.

we're not told why agatha is running, but the obvious answer is that she is running from rio. she's in her shift, she was probably in their bed in the little cabin in the woods going through labor. and then rio told her that nicky was going to be stillborn and, in typical agatha fashion, she bolted, she tried to buy time, to bargain, to outrun the inevitable. but nature is all around, engulfing her. trying to escape is futile.

I so appreciate how bloody this scene is but I can't watch it, it's too much. she's run as far as she could, but the baby is coming now. she bites on a lemon and pushes. no family, no coven, no midwife. the one person in her corner, rio, has betrayed her.

that shot of rio so small between the trees, and yet the same exact color as the leaves? both one tiny person and the very essence of nature everywhere? I've got chills.

rio has brought her orchid so you know how serious the situation is. and I believe the costume department called this a shepherdess outfit? she chose this gentle look to guide nicky's little innocent soul to the other side.

you need to look at plaza's acting closely in this scene because while agatha's pain is on full display, raw and open, rio is keeping her pain close to her chest, she has no other choice. she swallows, she shakes her head ever so slightly. agatha is shaking her head too, completely and utterly devastated.

Rio walks closer, strong determined steps that don't match how difficult she's finding it to speak. her face contracts with pain before she smooths it back in a neutral expression. she shrugs a little, so small and apologetic. remember how formidable she was with alice, how clear she made it look that there was no escape? she can't quite bring herself to do that here.

you know by now what it means when agatha clutches her chest like that. you've seen her poor heart.

she licks her lips, she straighten up, vicious, ready to go into battle, ready to bite and hurt and beg and do everything, everything in her power to save nicky. we get this scene at the very end, when we know agatha and rio and their dynamic so intimately, and it's so easy to read what's happening. agatha will never go down with dignity, she'll fight till her last breath.

rio gives the tiniest of nods, she takes a deep breath. she knows agatha so well, she didn't expect anything less. while agatha is all over the place, rio is so still. her eyes are huge, and there's one stubborn tear that she's not allowing to fall. this has always been their dynamic - agatha's pain is too overwhelming, it engulfs all, there's no containing it. rio has to be strong and wise for the two of them.

this is rio losing her wife and child in one tragic swoop. this is rio being cast as the villain that took nicky's life.

this is futile. we can't fight Death.

oh, but she will try. she's been trying since we've known her. since she killed that poor dog to see if wanda could do something about it.

Death makes her decision.

not only does the grim reaper refuses to reap a soul. for the first time in all of history, she actively uses her magic to stop someone from dying. it goes against everything she stands for, and it's ultimately useless, because not even the power of the greatest Green Witch can heal nicky, she can only delay the inevitable. but she does it anyway, because she loves agatha too much. even if she knows perfectly well that she's just lost her forever.

rio is apparently impassible, but look closer: her nostrils are flaring, her jaw is trembling. if rio can't kill, by logic she can't generate life either. not that she's not able to - she's not allowed to, because she needs to be impartial. because if she lets herself fall in love with someone, it might just happen that their child will be stillborn in 18th century nowhere, massachusetts and Death might not be able to be selfless and impartial about it.

and then bye bye, sacred balance.

who the fuck came up with this story? and made it about lesbians, too? was it you, jac? I don't know if I want to kiss you or scream at you.

agatha doesn't recognize the world-shattering decision, the unprecedented sacrifice rio has just made for her. she can only think about nicky. how much time has she won? a day? a month? ten years? not knowing is torture.

and look, this is agatha, selfish to her very core. but can you blame her? can you feel anything but infinite pity and understanding for her at this moment? who is even to blame here? agatha, a mother begging for her child's life? rio going against every law and everything she believes in to give her beloveds one fleeting moment of reprieve?

there is no one to blame, not even nature - it has no concept of tragedy. (now that I think about it, agatha is the only person in history who could ever made nature feel.)

you did it, agatha, you made Death go away. you made your choice. it's you and nicky now.

oh god, kathryn, don't make that face. it's too much.

I spoke no spell, I said no incantation, you were made from scratch. the utter beauty that is agatha, the witch killer, the master of spells and craft, creating a baby (almost) the old fashioned way - the magic of life that no spell could ever improve.

this is agatha claiming nicky as hers. not rio's, only hers. she sought to have him for arguably selfish but deeply human reasons: because she needed to prove her mother wrong. because she wanted someone who would love her unquestioningly, unconditionally. because she was so, so lonely, and rio alone couldn't fill the chasm in her heart. she wanted her coven to grow from two to three, but looks like it's coven two again: her whole happiness is once again tied to only one person.

the little feetsies!

this shot, dear lord. green leaves and water taking over.

this entry was a lot. I need a hug.

go to episode 9 part 2

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario #character analysis #nicholas scratch

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inkmonster21 · 3 months ago

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Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (handcuffs, daddy kink)

Part 09

Series Masterlist

I Wanna Try Out My Fuzzy Pink Handcuffs

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

Hugh shuts off the alarm, and he gently rolls closer to you, wrapping his strong arms around your body. The morning light filters in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. He pulls you close, the touch of his bare skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t wanna go,” you speak softly. Hugh chuckles at your grumble, feeling your reluctance to leave. He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. "I know, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with sleep. "But sadly, we've gotta get up and face the world."

As you zip your jacket you frown, “I wish I could reshoot that freezer scene. I was standing weird.” Hugh looks at you, seeing the disappointment on your face. He steps closer, his arms going around your waist. "You worry too much," he reassures you, his hands gently massaging your shoulders. "Who knows, you might get to reshoot the entire thing."

As you express your frustrations about the freezer scene, Hugh bites his tongue, holding back a secret that's been burning inside of him. He wants to tell you the recasting news so badly, but he's promised to keep it under wraps until the official announcement. He watches you, his expression a mix of excitement and restraint.

As you set foot on the set, the familiar routine ensues. The hair and makeup crew quickly pounce on you, fussing over your look and ensuring you're camera-ready. They brush your hair, apply makeup to your face, and make minor adjustments, transforming you into your on-screen persona.

As you’re pulled away, Hugh follows Ryan’s directions to the back of the set where the costume department is waiting. He’s ushered into a room, where the crew begins prepping him for his scene. They help him into his costume, make the final touches to his hair and makeup, and explain the blocking for the upcoming scene.

Ryan comes up behind you, hands on your shoulders. “Hey Kiddo. Bad news. We’ve got to reshoot the restaurant scene after the jail shoot. Okay?”

You turn around, surprised by Ryan's sudden appearance behind you. You reply, your tone slightly resigned. "That’s fine. I thought I was standing weird. So I’m up for it." Ryan nods, understanding your disappointment. "Yeah, we just need a few more shots to get the scene right," he explains, his hands still on your shoulders. "It shouldn't take too long, but we'll have to do it after the jail scene this afternoon."

You're led onto the set, where the crew has already set up the intimate restaurant scene. The lighting, camera angles, and props are all carefully arranged to create the perfect atmosphere for the scene. You’re dressed in a beautiful, seductive dress that accentuates your curves, and a pair of high heels that make you feel both elegant and a little bit vulnerable.

The fake jail set is an accurate replication of a prison cell, down to the cold, hard concrete floor and the metal bars that confine you. You sit on a bench, two other actresses taking their place on the other bench. The atmosphere is tense, the other women looking just as miserable as you. You wait for Ryan's voice to call "action" and cue the scene.

“Action!” Ryan’s voice echoes through the set, signaling the beginning of the scene. As you sit in the small cell, looking dejected and defeated, you suddenly hear a voice call out your last name. You raise your head in confusion, looking up at the guard who just spoke. “Someone bailed your ass out,” he continues. Your eyes widen with realization, a small smile forming on your lips. You stand up, the bars to the cell opening, and step out slowly. “To your right,” a guard says.

You approach a guard through a thick glass partition. The guard holds up a small bag containing your personal belongings – a pair of shades and lipstick. He glances at you through the glass, his expression indifferent as he asks, “Are these your personal belongings, miss?”

You nod with a smile.

The guard continues to speak, detailing the process of your release, but you barely pay attention. Your focus is on the bag in your hands, specifically the lipstick and shades. You flick open the compact, using the glass partition as a makeshift mirror to apply the lipstick. The guard speaks up again, irritated, “Miss, this is not a beauty salon. Please listen carefully.”

As the guard continues to explain the procedure, your focus is interrupted by the sound of heavy metal doors opening. Your eyes shift from the guard to what’s behind him, and in that moment, you see HIM. A smile spreads across your face as your heart skips a beat.

Hugh is roughly guided down the hallway by the officers, his eyes quickly finding yours as he glances in your direction. Despite the harsh treatment, he manages to keep his calm demeanor, his gaze never leaving your face. The officers shove him into a room, and the door closes behind him, concealing him from view. You watch him disappear into the room, your heart racing in your chest. You bite your lip, holding back an intense sea of emotions.

Ryan’s voice echoes through the set, signaling the end of the scene. “Cut!” The crew immediately springs into action, adjusting lights, repositioning cameras, and preparing for the next shot.

Hugh emerges from the room, a small smile forming on his lips as he walks towards you.

Your eyes widen, and a smile paints your lips.

Hugh reaches you, and you instantly cling to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you laugh. "What in the world," you exclaim with amazement, "when did you become the lead?" Your laughter fills the air, the joy and relief evident in your voice. This moment feels like a dream come true, everything you've secretly hoped for.

Ryan approaches the two of you, a wide smile on his face. "Well, I thought, who else better than Hugh Jackman, right?" he says, his tone brimming with excitement. Hugh smirks and winks at you, enjoying the moment as you both revel in the surprise revelation.

You laugh at Ryan, a smile forming on his face, as you say, “So, you’re fine with this? With us?” Ryan lets out a small chuckle at your question, the smile on his face growing larger. “With this?” he responds, gesturing between you and Hugh. “With you two?” He nods a look of contentment in his eyes. He’s happy to see you happy. “As long as you two don’t do anything stupid.” Ryan turns to Hugh, a protective brotherly demeanor in his tone. He points a finger at him, his eyes meeting Hugh's with a hint of warning. "Like breaking her heart."

You can't help but let out a laugh at Ryan's overprotective gesture. With a playful smile, you push his hand away, your confidence in Hugh clear in your voice. "I highly doubt he'll do that," you reassure Ryan, your eyes flicking between him and Hugh lovingly.

Ryan lets out an exaggerated eye-roll at your words, pretending to be annoyed but secretly amused by your banter. "Yeah, yeah. On with the schedule," he replies, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "We don't have all day, you two. Let's get rolling."

The reshoot of the restaurant freezer fight goes smoothly, and you can't help but feel that it was meant to be for you and Hugh to film this together. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and as you go through the fight sequence, it’s clear that the camera loves you both.

After the intense fight sequence, you find yourself tenderly cradling Hugh's head in your chest. His eye is bruised, and the evidence of the brutal fight is displayed on his face. But despite the physical impact, there’s a certain vulnerability and tenderness in Hugh’s expression as he leans into your embrace.

Hugh pats your thigh, signaling for you to get off the trunk. As you step away, he opens the trunk and tosses his bag inside, revealing Barry, tied up and duck-taped, lying inside the trunk. Your eyes widen in shock, and a glare instantly forms on your face as you take in the sight before you, "Don't embarrass me, you motherfucker.”

"Cut!" Ryan laughs, clearly enjoying the scene. Hugh pops open the trunk again, carefully freeing Barry from his duct tape restraints. Both Hugh and Barry join in the laughter, clearly amused by the intensity of your performance.

"That was such a good take," Ryan chimes in, a smile still on his face. "I think we've got a real winner there."

Your lips curve into a knowing smile, and you can't help but agree. "Especially with the next scene," you affirm, the anticipation and excitement building in your chest.

You turn to Ryan with a hopeful look, "Because I think it’s only fair I have creative control over at least one scene." Ryan hums for a moment then nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, yes. You've earned the creative control for one scene," he reassures you, his smile widening.

Hugh catches your glance, sensing the hint of something more in your words. He raises an eyebrow in curiosity, a small smile playing on his lips.

You turn to Ryan, a hint of determination in your eyes, and address him. "Then you might want to leave set," you say. Ryan looks between you and Hugh, understanding what's about to transpire. He sighs with a smirk, realizing the significance of the moment. "Oh, shit."

Hugh dutifully sits in the chair, his expression focused and serious as the camera rolls for the last verse of the song. The set is quiet, with all attention on this pivotal scene.

You rise from the couch, your footsteps deliberate and purposeful as you approach Hugh. A pair of handcuffs swings in your hand, a symbol of dominance and control. As you reach him, you meet his gaze and deliver the line, "If you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me." Your voice is firm, and the conviction in your words is undeniable.

You move behind Hugh, closing the distance between you. With a swift movement, you handcuff his wrists together behind the chair, effectively restraining him. The sound of the handcuffs clicking into place fills the air, symbolizing Hugh's helplessness in your grip, “If you don't wanna cry to my music, don’t make me hate you prolifically.”

You straddled Hugh's lap, your thighs on either side of him. A piece of duck tape is in your hand, and you press it to his lips. Instead of applying it directly, you kiss his lips through the tape, leaving an impression of your luscious lipstick on the tape. The kiss was a mix of dominance and affection, your actions conveying your control.

You saunter away from Hugh, a satisfied smirk on your lips. He watches you intently from the chair, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. Bound and restrained, he struggles against the handcuffs, calling out your name through the duct tape covering his mouth.

With a victorious yell, you call out "Cut!" The shoot was finally over, and a sense of relief washed over you. You quickly rush over to Hugh, the excitement and triumph clear in your eyes. Laughing, you expertly release him from the handcuffs and duck tape, freeing him from his confines.

He leans in, placing a lingering kiss on your ear, his voice a low whisper as he speaks. "Can we take those home?" he asks, making a gesture towards the handcuffs you'd just released him from. You couldn’t help but smirk at his request, a mischievous idea forming in your mind.

Ryan pops out from behind the makeup tent, his voice breaking the intimate bubble between you and Hugh. He raises an eyebrow, clearly aware of the tension in the air.

"Can I come out now?" he teases, a knowing grin on his face. "Is everything back to PG?" You roll your eyes playfully at Ryan's cheeky comment, a smile still gracing your lips. "All clear, Ryan!" you confirm, your tone a mix of mock annoyance and love for your brother.

You watch the reshoot playback, alongside Hugh and Ryan. The video looks flawless, with every shot and angle perfect. Hugh looks incredibly attractive in the all-black pants and button-up shirt, his hair slicked back and just the slightest hint of facial hair giving him an irresistibly sexy look. Your eyes can't help but linger on him, admiring his captivating presence on the screen.

Ryan lets out a laugh, clearly amused by the scene playing out before him. He turns to you with a sly grin and quips, "Whoa. You really wanna give the whole world a sneak preview of that private show?" You can't help but roll your eyes and swat playfully at his arm. "Shut up, Ryan," you respond, feigning annoyance but secretly amused.

Ryan laughs and nods, clearly entertained by the exchange. "Alright, alright," he replies. "I'll send it off to editing then. Looks like we've got a winner." You smile, satisfied with the outcome. "I have no problems," you declare with confidence, your eyes flickering from the screen to Hugh, who stands beside you.

Your body was buzzing with anticipation, the excitement of what was to come electrifying your senses. You practically leap into the car, the words "To my apartment" tumbling out of your mouth in a breathless whisper. The driver nods, acknowledging your instructions, and sets off towards your apartment.

As the car began moving, you couldn't resist the overwhelming desire that washed over you. Acting on impulse, you reach up and flick the privacy partition, creating a bubble of solitude between you and the driver. Your lips immediately begin to trail up Hugh's neck, the need for him becoming impossible to ignore.

Hugh gently grasps your jaw, his thumb tracing a path along your bottom lip. His voice, a low and seductive rumble, sends a shiver through you. "You just wait until I get you home," he warns, his words full of promise and anticipation.

As you both enter your apartment, Hugh quickly captures your mouth with a demanding kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a mix of passion and dominance. He guides you down the hallway, his body pressed against yours as he walks you towards the bedroom.

With a confident smirk, you turn and push Hugh onto the bed, causing him to land with a thump. "Wait there," you command, your tone sultry and authoritative. You take a moment to appreciate the sight of him lying there, eager and waiting, before turning away to retrieve what you need.

You re-enter the room, your gaze instantly locking onto Hugh. His eyes widen as he takes in your sexy black lace negligee, the lace hugging your curves in all the right places. You saunter towards him, each step slow and deliberate, fully aware of the effect you're having on him.

A sultry smile crosses your lips as you approach Hugh, your eyes fixed on the handcuffs in your hand. You crawl onto the bed, straddling him with a possessive aura. "I think it's time we had some fun with these," you say, dangling the handcuffs in front of him, the metal links catching the light and glinting mischievously.

A devilish smile plays on his lips as you approach the bed, his strong, muscular body moving with grace as he reaches for you. He's still dressed in a sleek, well-tailored suit, but you know that won't stay on for long. "I thought we'd start with a little role-play," he says, his eyes burning with desire. "How does that sound?"

"Perfect," you reply, your heart racing as you wonder what scenarios he has in mind. Hugh reaches into his pocket and pulls out the shiny silver handcuffs. "I think it's time for the naughty girl to be restrained, don't you?"

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of excitement as you nod slowly. "Yes, Daddy. Please, I want to be your good girl."

He chuckles a deep, sexy sound that makes your core clench. "Oh, you will be. But first, I want you on your knees." Obediently, you slide off the bed and kneel on the soft rug, your long hair falling around your face.

"That's my girl," he says, his voice full of approval. Without further hesitation, he snaps one cuff around your slender wrist, the cold metal sending a delicious shiver up your arm. You gasp softly, already feeling the power dynamic shift.

"Now, where should I put your other hand, hmm?" He trails the free cuff along your arm, teasing you, making you squirm. "Please, Daddy, just do it," you beg, your voice already hoarse with need.

He chuckles again, enjoying your impatience. Then, with a quick snap, he secures your other wrist, leaving you kneeling, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy.

"There we go," he says, running his hand through your hair. "You look so damn sexy like this, you naughty girl." You blush, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal as he stands before you, his eyes raking over your restrained form. "Now, Daddy's going to play with his girl, and you're going to take it, understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," you whisper, your eyes fixed on his crotch, your mouth already watering at the thought of tasting him. He reaches down and slowly unbuttons his shirt, peeling it off to reveal a broad, muscular chest. "You like what you see?" he teases, knowing full well the effect he has on you.

"Mmm, so much, Daddy," you murmur, your eyes widening as he unbuckles his belt, pops the button on his trousers, and lowers the zipper, releasing his thick, hardening cock.

"Suck it," he orders, his voice firm.

You don't need to be told twice. You lean forward, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. "Fuck, yes, just like that," he growls, his hands tangling in your hair as you take him deeper, moaning softly around his length.

You love the power you have over him in this moment, the way he loses control as you suck and lick, your hands restrained, unable to touch. "That's my good girl," he says, his hips beginning to move slowly, fucking your mouth gently.

You moan, the vibrations teasing him, making him grow harder in your mouth. He tastes so good, and you wish your hands were free to explore. Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. "On your back, legs spread."

You do as you're told, your heart pounding with anticipation. He secures one end of the handcuffs to the headboard, leaving your arms raised above your head, your body splayed out like a sacrifice.

"That's it, baby," he says, his eyes drinking in the sight of you spread before him. "So fucking gorgeous."

Then, he's at your feet, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin as he places soft kisses along your arches, slowly working his way up your body.

You squirm, feeling his stubble tickle your skin as he works his way up your calves, along the sensitive skin of the back of your knees, and then to the soft, tender flesh of your inner thighs. "Please, Daddy, touch me," you beg, your need for him all-consuming.

"Soon, baby, soon," he teases, placing soft kisses on your outer pussy lips, his breath hot against your swollen clit.

"Oh, God!" you cry out as he teases you with soft licks and kisses, his tongue flicking against your bud, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

Then, he dives in, his tongue pushing inside your wetness as his fingers work their magic on your clit, circling, teasing, and driving you wild.

"Cum for me, baby," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

And you do, your whole body shaking as you climax, your juices flowing freely as your restrained arms pull at the cuffs, adding a delicious sting to the overwhelming pleasure.

Hugh laps at your sweetness, growling in satisfaction as he devours your cries and moans.

"Such a good girl," he breathes, his voice barely audible as he pulls away from your cunt. "But Daddy's not done with you yet."

He leans up unlocking the cuffs from the headboard. He softly pulls you up, turning you around so that your ass is pressed up against him. He gently takes each of your wrists safely cuffing them behind your back. You can feel his hardness against your entrance, the heat of his body searing through you.

"Get flat for me," he orders, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You obey, your legs trembling as you lean your chest down flat on the mattress. He lines his cock up with your entrance, the head pressing against your tight hole. You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he starts to push inside.

"Relax for Daddy," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Let me in, baby."

You take a deep breath, willing your muscles to loosen as he slides deeper, inch by inch until he's fully buried inside you. Your walls stretch around him, clinging to his thickness as he holds still, savoring the feeling of being inside you.

"Perfect," he groans, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Such a tight little cunt."

He begins to move, slow and steady, pulling almost out before thrusting back in. The rhythm is maddening, each stroke hitting your sweet spot, driving you wild with need. You can feel yourself building towards another orgasm, your body straining against the cuffs as you try to move with him.

"Beg for it," he demands, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Beg Daddy for more."

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse with desperation. "Please, Daddy, more... I need more."

"Good girl," he praises, his thrusts speeding up, pounding into you with relentless intensity. "Daddy's gonna make you cum again."

Your body tightens around him, your orgasm barreling toward you like a freight train. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit once more, rubbing it with bruising force as he fucks you harder.

"Come on, baby," he snarls, his voice breaking with lust. "Cum for Daddy." The words send you spinning over the edge, your body shuddering as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you. He follows you over, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he spills inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt of release.

As you both come down from the high, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping free with a wet pop. He turns you back around, kissing you roughly, his tongue invading your mouth as he takes possession of you once more. Hugh owned you, and you could fucking care less.

#hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #hugh jackman smut

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darling-zain · 2 years ago

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✮ ↳ All Eyes On Me ↰

♡ yandere! actor x gn reader pt 2♡

tw/cw: obsessive love, murder, mentions of blood, slight emotional manipulation

authors notes: this took me forever i'm sorryyyy editing is a bitch :( but I'm really proud of this one!! hope you'll like it too <3

"Why weren't you watching?" His voice is cold and filled with contempt as he glares at you, his nails digging into the skin of his palm.

"I-I was! Why wouldn't I watch, I've been backstage this whole ti-" Your voice is soft, trying to quell the fury in his gaze.

"Liar!" He steps closer to you, causing you to back away. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "You weren't watching. When I was offstage, I looked for you behind the curtains. But you were never there." He's now right in front of you, grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut. "All those training sessions, all those late nights memorizing my lines till it felt like my head was going to burst, all the blood, sweat and tears- It was all for you!" His breathing is heavy and his voice is a low growl, his light tan skin flushed with anger.

"Aurelius, I...I had no idea..." Your voice trails off, eyes gazing into his with regret. "But, I did watch! It's just that near the end I got a phone call, so I had to leave the theatre to pick it up and I got distracted!"

"I don't need your excuses." He spat, glaring down at you. "I understand. I get that I'm just another actor you have to work with; you're just here for the paycheck. And that's fine!" He backs up, a deranged smile on his face. "But could you at least pretend that you care? Just a bit?"

"I do care! why wouldn't I care, I've been working with you on this for months! Please, no need to get so upset." Your words cut through him like a knife, and his eyes widen with disbelief.

"'No need to get so upset'?! How can you even say that right now?! I've put so many hours into this, spent so much time on this all for your approval, and when the day finally comes you don't even stay to watch?! I'm not just upset, I'm-" he takes a deep breath, shaking slightly. "Heartbroken."

"Aurelius, please, listen to me. The reason why I couldn't stay is because I got a call from my best friend, and they sounded really upset, so I needed to go help them... I'm sorry."

He turns towards you, a look of cold, pure, disbelief on his face. His eyes widen as he mutters something under his breath. The room is so quiet that even though he whispered, you could hear every word clearly.

"You missed my show...for someone else?" He takes a step back. "You missed my show...because someone told you to?" The silence is thick between the two of you, the same deranged smile appearing on his face. He chuckles, his laughter becoming louder and more insane. "Are you serious?! After all that time we spent working, you left me for your friend?!" Tears roll down his face, smearing his makeup. He stumbles back into the sound table and clutches onto it while trying to regain his composure.

"Auri, you have to understand! It was an emergency, I had no other choice!" The desperation in your voice is evident, you need him to realize the severity of the situation. You walk up to him and hesitantly place a hand on his shoulder. Your breath hitches in your throat when he smacks your hand away, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers over his eyes.

"Don't," His voice is shaky, yet still cold and unforgiving. "Don't touch me. You don't deserve to after what you've done. I know how much I mean to you now, I don't need your lame explanations." He straightens up before walking out the door, standing in the frame for a second. "Bandaids don't fix bullet holes." He departs with a swish of his hair, leaving you standing alone in the now deathly quiet sound booth.

He grabs his stuff, slipping a small object into his bag as he hurriedly exits the theatre, wiping off his smudged makeup. He doesn't even take the time to change out of his costume, his brain is too panicked to even think about anything except what you said.

"Excuse me, you work with y/n right?" A person with a panicked expression walks up to him, biting their nails worriedly. His angry expression immediately changes to one of calmness.

"Yes, I do. why do you ask?" He puts on his signature winning smile as he bends down to their height.

"Well, I was with them earlier when they said they had to leave, and they didn't even tell me where before they just left! I know they work here, so I was wondering if you've seen them?" Your friend seems really troubled at your sudden disappearance, but Aurelius had other things on his mind.

"Actually, I think I have an idea of where they might be. Follow me!" His charming disposition and comfortable aura would make anyone follow him without question, including your friend. They started to walk together, the silence between them tense because of the worry that accompanied it. He lead them up and down roads, into busy lanes and quiet walkways. Eventually, they landed in front of a large forest.

"Wait... this is their favourite forest! You're a genius, I don't know why I didn't think to come here sooner!" Aurelius looked at your friend with exquisitely veiled contempt, their eyes shining with hope disgusting him.

"Oh, really?" He feigns surprise, not wanting to give away his true intentions just yet. "I didn't know! I just remember seeing them come here one time after work, I didn't know it was their favourite." He was lying. He knew everything about you. Your coffee order, the route you took home after work every day, the position in which you slept, everything. "Shall we head in?" He asked politely, extending a hand toward them. They nodded, walking into the dimly lit forest.

"I don't think I got your name, sorry."

He scoffs inwardly, berating them in his mind. "How do you not know my name? Me, the Aurelius Yavuz? You should be able to tell from one glance alone!" He thought, but he responded kindly regardless. "It's Aurelius. Aurelius Yavuz. And you?"

"Carmen! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yavus!" The way your friend sounds so cheerful disgusts him.

"Likewise," he mumbles, his voice sounding slightly pompous from their ignorance of his status. He brings their attention elsewhere, just wanting to get this whole ordeal over and done with as soon as possible. "I think I heard a noise over that way, would you like to check it out?" He points towards a dark corner of the forest with a small clearing in the middle.

"That looks like their hiding spot...yes, I think they might be there! quick!" Carmen starts to run into the thicket of trees, leaving Aurelius behind. In the dim light of the evening sun peeking through the trees, his eyes glow with a menacing aura. A confident smirk makes its way onto his face as he follows behind them. He pulls a small knife out of his bag, the shining metal glinting in the light.

"Aurelius...they're...not here..." Carmen's disappointed voice emanates through the forest. He slowly walks toward them, the satisfied look on his face making him seem even more insane than before.

"Aww, now isn't that a shame~?" He steps even closer, now almost nose-to-nose with them. "Don't worry," He brings his arm behind their shoulder, placing his hand right behind their neck. "You won't have to even think about them anymore." In a flash, Carmen collapses to the ground, the once pristine silver knife now tainted with potent red sin.

He dusts off his hand, wiping the blood on the knife onto the backside of his costume. He scoffs as he looks down onto the now still body of your beloved friend, kicking their body into the bushes beside him. He walks away and out of the forest, taking the same path you always take to your residence. He stops in front of your house, knocking on the door. He takes a deep breath and forcefully makes his eyes look teary, needing every tactic he knows to make you believe him. You open the door, stepping back when you see him.

"Aurelius, why are you-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that. I just...was so upset, I thought this show meant something to you! But, I understand that you have your priorities, so I'm not mad anymore. Forgive me?" He gazes into your eyes, false tears now pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Auri..." You embrace him tightly, crying into his chest. "I'm so sorry! I should've stayed, I should've watched, I didn't mean to hurt you that bad, I'm sorry!" You can't see his face as you're sobbing into his shirt, not able to see the knowing smirk on his lips. He pats your head kindly, cooing at you to help you calm down.

"Hey, hey, don't cry... it's okay now. Everything's been taken care of, now it's just you," he kisses the top of your head, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a sharp glint flashes through his eyes.

"and me."

taglist!! @lasagna-goob @izizzl @skylark144 @cyphertryagain

#zain>>works #tw yandere #tw obsessive love #tw murder #tw blood ment #yandere blog #yandere writing #soft yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

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101maverick · 6 months ago

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how would dick grayson react to his gf acting possessive towards him out of jealousy in front of a super villain flirting with him. sort of like the reader telling the villain “cut to the chase or I’ll cut your throat” while they’re interrogating the villain

A/n: Okkk we're going strong with the Dick asks! This one is very original :)) lemme see what I can do for u >:)

word count: 911

You, Me, and the Moonlight

Your eye twitches compulsively. You don't know if the sound that's itching to escape from your throat is an exasperated sigh or something suspiciously akin to a growl.

What was supposed to be a relatively normal patrol, with the usual shtick of stopping muggers and the occasional gang dispute, had quickly turned into you and Dick dealing with a Poison Ivy.

Thanks to one of Wayne Enterprises' new unreleased gadgets, a.k.a. one of Batman's new toys, the plant-maniac is currently tied up inside of the warehouse she had been planning on transforming into a home-base for her infesting plants.

Nightwing is currently interrogating her while you watch from the shadows of the rafters. Operating in the dark is always best in these kinds of situations, while dealing with this kind of people. Poison Ivy is notorious for her ability to hypnotise, so it's optimal that she find out of your presence only if need be.

Plus, her mind-control perfume has no hope of working on Nightwing while he's got his air-filtering mask on, and he strategically put the chair she's tied to in front of a mirror conveniently already present on the scene, to make sure to react readily to any attempts of escape.

Nightwing stands in front of her, still and stoic. Despite the lack of cape and the electric blue of his costume, years of being the Batman's sidekick are evident in how effective he is in the intimidation department. His voice is cold and authoritative as he questions the woman in front of him.

“Ivy. Who helped you get out of Arkham?”

Poison Ivy just giggles, responding to his looming stance by slightly tilting her head downwards to better bat her eyelashes at him, her voice sultry as she responds. “Can’t a woman do things by herself, Nightwing?”

From where you are perched, you can see the line of his back tense with well-concealed frustration. “I know you had help, Ivy, there’s no use denying that. Now I’ll ask again,” he leans forward, coming face to face with her, “Who helped you?”

You stalk your way over to a more advantageous view point, steps muffled and careful as you manoeuvre on the support beams. From your new position, you're able to make out the mischievous way her lips curl as she responds. "Let me out of these restraints and I'll tell you without a problem."

Another deflection. Dick's face is obscured by both the domino and the mask, but you can still read his mounting annoyance in the way his hand twitches at his side, a tell-tale sign he's refraining from clenching it into a fist.

Before he can respond, though, Poison Ivy speaks again.

"You've grown up to be such a handsome man, Nightwing, why don't you take that mask off so I can see you better? After all, we have quite the long history don't we?" And wow if you didn't want to bash her face in at the looks she was giving him before you sure as hell want to do so now.

You know it's a tactic meant to make Nightwing uncomfortable in the hopes of making him loose his footing, but you can't just stand aside and let this downright witch play her mind games however long she pleases.

Your boyfriend is quick to move his face away from your prisoner, taking a step back, and you choose that moment to drop down from the shadows of the warehouse roof right in front of her.

You land almost upright, and unsheathe a dagger from your side in one smooth motion as you turn to stare Ivy right in the face.

"Cut to the chase, Ivy. And don't even think of saying something like that again or I'll cut your throat, and you know I'm not bluffing." 634

Ivy's expression turns downright sour, and as she grumbles under her breath before reluctantly spouting off the needed information you feel vindictiveness making a home in your chest, and damn if that doesn't feel pleasant.

————————————

Being able to finally rest after a night of chasing, interrogating and arresting villains feels like heaven on earth, and as you flop down face-first on your bed you're extremely grateful for the fact you and Dick decided to splurge on your mattress.

A smile upturns the corners of your lips as you feel your boyfriend lay beside you, and you stay pliant sa you let him snake an arm around your waist and roll you over to face him.

His breath fans over your face as he whispers in the moonlit silence of your shared bedroom. "Thanks for earlier, with Ivy."

At that, you open your eyes and find him staring right into yours.

"Can't let a creep talk to my man like that, can I?" You let out a low chuckle.

In the low light, it takes a while for your eyesight to adjust, and his features slowly come into focus.

As you keep holding each others' gaze, you drop the humour.

"I'll always protect you, Dick," You whisper while bringing your hand up to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. His eyes sparkle in the almost-dark of the Blüdhaven night. "Just like you protect me."

You wonder how many vulnerable moments just you, Dick and the moonlight are witness to.

Laying there, each of you in the other's gentle embrace, you hope there'll be many more.

————————————

A/n: This was fun! I can't decide if it feels a bit rushed, but I'm still happy with the result :) Fun fact! While I was working on this ask I got another ask that's basically the reverse of this lol, where it's Dick getting jealous because a villain is flirting with reader😂 If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing fanfiction #dc #dc dick grayson #dc nightwing #maverick’s prompt fill

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frmulcahy · 2 months ago

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Listening to an episode of the @antiquesfreaks podcast where they cover the costuming in The Terror and here are some amazing moments:

"But Ken, are you the only one of us that put themselves through reading the book?" "I did. Because John Bridgens was trapped inside and I had to get him out and if I read the book good enough, perhaps I could save him"

"If you don't tell these men what to wear, they're gonna look like straight up hoochies."

"As we see in the later episodes of The Terror and discipline does break down and Dundy just starts showing up to command meetings with his suspenders out! Slattern that he is!!!

"Victorian Navy: one to one analog to working at present day Target."

"I heard they flog you at Target."

"I was press ganged into working at Target."

"It's Victorian times. Everyone's wicked fucking repressed and they're about to get wicked un-repressed whether they like it or not, and they're going to show that through their clothing."

"a blur of muttonchops"

"I pre-gamed the show for 5 years with gifsets on tumblr to makes sure I would be able to tell at least the major speaking roles apart, and I still could not tell Little and Jopson apart until I figured out they had different eye colors."

"And now I'm Pilkington SpottingTM as a hobby"

calling JFJ a "fashionable boy" with his "nippies out" because he doesn't button up his coat all the way like Franklin and Crozier

The two regular hosts repeatedly comparing themselves to a delinquent class that their guest is stuck substitute teaching

"I think my character would be hitting a fat doobie right about now"

Discussing Jared Harris being obsessed with his own costuming details like all the mending on Crozier's clothes

Jopson's first appearance - "he's normal and they're normal and everyone's having a normal time here on this completely routine expedition." "It's so normal. Do you ever fall in love with your boss???" "It couldn't have been more erotic if they had just had gay sex."

Stanley and McDonald's button grouping on their uniforms to denote rank

THEY TALK ABOUT THE ICONIC JFJ GANSEEEYYY

Also Irving's Sanquhar scarf :')

"the red sweater of tenderness" sobbing screaming throwing up

"I think The Terror would have been improved if all of the marines had Boston accents for no reason"

Also marines vs normal sailors

comparing sailor's clothes to fast fashion because it's not very tailored lmaooo

The canvas overcoats being period inaccurate but still neat because they're referencing later polar expeditions like what we see on the guys in the Shackleton expedition etc

They talk about irl Goodsir's letter about clothes and the many many shirts!

Nive having to wear a cooling vest under her costume since it was real caribou fur and her coat being patched with sail cloth later.

They go into Yup'ik masks which is super cool! As well as have a conversation about the ethics of visuals/information/knowledge about indigenous artwork being shared with folks outside of those communities.

Repeated! Dan! Simmons! Roasting! As! They! Should!!!!!

Reapted! Nive! Nielsen! Praising! As! They! Should!!!!!!!!

Sophia's "oceanic color theme"

"They let the dresses have colors. The dresses have colors. The dresses have bright beautiful colors, and it's great."

"They had invented aniline dyes and they were about to make it everybody's problem!"

Lady Jane in more solids vs Sophia in more patterns

"'A woman could never possibly understand polar exploration' meanwhil Silna's up there doing it better than all of them."

Clowning on how other period pieces never use bonnets and always fuck up in the hair and makeup department

"I found Harry Goodsir's fursuit btw"

"On a scale of Calypso's Birthday to Fitzjames's Carnivale, how's your impromptu nautical drag ball going?"

"It's actually exactly like The Purge." "It's like a little Victorian maritime Purge."

"As far as metaphor and literary analysis and whatever, scurvy understood the fucking assignment."

"I punched in Scorbutic Nostalgia so that I could remember to read about it later." "I have some literature for you if you want." "Yeah fantastic! I love disease"

"CGI bear expensive"

"This episode comes with a heavy caveat of 'go to Terror Camp'" amazing.

THE DRESSTM

Tozer's Hotspur costume and Dundy's Henry VI costume and their relevance

"This is the last we see of Party!Dundy"

(About Little) "Every day he gets emails :("

Bridgler and Apollo/Hyacinthus stuff fuuuuuccckk

"Hodgepodge, my boy"

"Oompa loompa doompity dacticals, don't indulge your morals over your practicals"

"Rip Hickey you would've loved Joker"

Not a silly quote but just a really fantastic one: "That is what the best historical designers do, is they find these nuggets of information that allow them to tell a story with authenticity, both in a way that is historical but authentic to the characters as well." EXAAAACCCTTTLLLYYYYYY

"Whomst among us has not Joplarped to get through the workday?"

#amazing fantastic incredible #my mom is obsessed with this podcast #and has been trying to get me to listen to it for ages #and she was like hey they have an episode on the terror costumes #theyre literally a couple of fucking nerds like you #alright! alright. she was right. I'm endeared.#the terror #antiques freaks

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