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tiredsunrisesmeta · 1 month ago

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These Jayvik and The Phantom of the Opera parallels are becoming serious business to me! After reading this analysis of Viktor and references to The Phantom of the Opera by @avelera , I've been thinking about other possible references and parallels to The Phantom of the Opera in Jayvik's story. These are some possible ones I've found.

Backstage after her triumphant debut, Christine confesses to her friend, Madame Giry's daughter Meg, that her singing has been inspired by an unseen tutor she knows only as the "Angel of Music" - Wikipedia

[CHRISTINE]

Somehow I know he's always with me

He, the unseen genius

[MEG] Christine, you must have been dreaming

Christine, you're talking in riddles

Stories like this can't come true

And it's not like you

[CHRISTINE]

Angel of Music, guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory (who is this angel?)

(This) angel of Music, hide no longer

Secret and strange angel

He's with me even now

In many ways, Viktor was Jayce's Angel of Music. Viktor was his guide and guardian because not only did he save Jayce from death (twice), he also inspired Jayce's dream to bring magic to the people since he was a child. His dream of hextech was inspired by the mage, who was Viktor all along. Even after Jayce meets present-day Viktor and becomes partners with him, Viktor's dream and insistence on focusing on helping disadvantaged people with hextech helps guide Jayce as well.

There are also multiple references to Viktor as a "voice" that "calls out" to Jayce, inside Jayce's mind. The crystal (given to him by Viktor) Jayce wears on a bracelet is described in extra canon material as "[calling] out [...] with an otherwordly hum, imperceptible to the ear, yet heard deep within the caverns on the brain." In season 2, episode 6, after Viktor watches Jayce kill Salo and comments that another will is at work inside of Jayce, he says the other will was "like a voice." The other will is Viktor. The very first time we see Jayce's memories of the mage who saves his life is when he's knocked out by the hex crystal explosion. The memory comes to him like a dream. These descriptions bring to mind the song "The Phantom of the Opera," specifically these lyrics:

In sleep he sang to me

In dreams he came

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name

And do I dream again?

For now I find

The phantom of the opera

Is there inside my mind

In turn, Jayce was also Viktor's muse as well. Viktor saw promise in Jayce's theories & research. He was the first person to give Jayce a chance to pursue his dream, the first person to give Jayce a sliver of access to the power & influence he would later gain as the Man of Progress. Jayce becomes the face of hextech, the one who goes on stage while Viktor stays in the shadows, looking on proudly at Jayce & their shared work. This is much like Erik/The Phantom, who from the shadows is the first to nurture Christine's musical talents & orchestrates her rise in the ranks of the Opera house. This dynamic is described once again in the song "The Phantom of the Opera":

I am the mask you wear

It's me they hear

Your spirit and my voice (my spirit and your voice)

In one combined

But there's even more possible parallels and references!

During their fight in the council room in season 2, Viktor brings up Jayce benefiting from Viktor's limited influence & knowledge within Piltover's academic & political worlds when they first started their partnership. He tells Jayce, "You once benefitted from my knowledge of this place." This statement and the rest of the scene reminded me of these lyrics from "All I Ask of You (Reprise)":

I gave you my music

Made your song take wing

And now, how you've repaid me:

Denied me and betrayed me

This isn't the only detail about this scene that reminds me of the All I Ask of You and Reprise scene in The Phantom of the Opera. In this scene, Christine and Raoul sing to each other about their desire to share one love and lifetime together. The Phantom hides behind a statue, eavesdropping and spying on the lovers' exchange. Similarly, in the council room scene, Jayce and Mel talk as Viktor hides and eavesdrops behind a pillar.

A notable difference between these two scenes and an indicator of the ultimate difference between Jayce and Viktor's story to Christine and Erik's is that Jayce and Mel, unlike Christine and Raoul, are having an argument. They do, however, hold each other at the end of the scene after fighting Viktor, and Jayce apologizes to Mel for their argument later on. Nonetheless, they still go their separate ways, which is marked difference from Christine and Raoul's arcs.

In the musical, the Phantom brings Christine to his lair twice. Christine descending into the Phantom's subterranean lair has been described as a descent into the underworld. Similarly, Viktor also brings Jayce into his "lair," domain, or underworld twice. The first time is when Jayce's touches the anomoly and is transported into the apocalyptic future, where he spends most of his time stuck in a cave until he meets Mage Viktor. This first "descent into the underworld" parallels Christine's in that both Jayce and Christine descend to the underworld (into Viktor's apocalyptic future and into the Phantom's lair, respectively) and meet their Angel after looking at their own reflection in a "mirror." Christine sees her reflection in an actual mirror, then she sees the Phantom and reaches out to him. Jayce looks at multiple reflections after he touches the anomaly, which is something Viktor has made. These lyrics from the song "The Mirror" fit these two sequences:

Flattering child, you shall know me

See why in shadow I hide

Look at your face in the mirror

I am there inside

Jayce's and Christine's second descent into their respective "Angel's" lairs also share similarities. Both, for example, happen because of a trap/deception of some kind. In order to defeat the Phantom, Christine is used as bait to lure the Phantom out. At the same time, the Phantom also decieves and traps Christine by secretly killing Christine's male co-lead and replacing him on stage.

Similarly, Viktor, with the help of Ambessa, tricks the Piltover army into believing he is still in his protective cocoon. They put all their efforts into destroying the cocoon, to give Jayce time to power off the hexgates, only to find out Viktor is not inside of it but is instead already in the hexgates with Jayce! Just like the Phantom was already on stage with Christine! But just like Christine is also ticking and trapping the Phantom, Jayce, too, has most likely predicted this turn of events and understands his role as bait and a honeypot to lure Viktor out. Viktor is successfully lured partly because Viktor wants to "evolve" Jayce with his own physical touch, not using his robot puppets or his strings of light like he uses on other characters. In this plan, Jayce will be Viktor's undoing, like Christine will be the Phantom's undoing. It brings to mind these lyrics from "Notes.../Twisted Every Way":

We shall play his game Perform his work, but remember we hold the ace For, if Miss Daaé sings, he is certain to attend

[...]

[CARLOTTA] She's the one behind this! Christine! This is all her doing! [PIANGI] This is the truth! Christine Daaé!

[RAOUL] This is his undoing [ANDRE/FIRMIN] If you succeed, you free us all— This so-called "angel" has to fall!

Much like Christine, Jayce is once again taken into his angel's lair. This time, it isn't the apocalyptic future but instead Viktor's hivemind astral plane.

Another possible POTO reference can be seen when Ekko's Z-Drive partially unmasks Arcane Herald Viktor. Ekko's Z-Drive has Powder's monkeys who play cymbals inside of it. These monkeys resemble the music box in The Phantom of the Opera that plays a role in the scene where Christine unmasks the Phantom for the first time. Similarly, Ekko's Z-Drive cracks open part of Viktor's mask. It's after this that Jayce is able to embrace Viktor, and we see Jayce's memories of Mage Viktor, who, in so many words, "expresses his longing to be loved." After this, Viktor's mask shatters completely.

This is when Jayce, unlike Christine, does not leave the Phantom to be with Raoul, even when Viktor says Jayce must leave. He stays together with Viktor, ensuring that Viktor is not alone in death or wherever the rune takes them.

[PHANTOM]

Say you'll share with me

One love, one lifetime

Lead me, save me from my solitude

[CHRISTINE]

God, give me the courage to show you

You are not alone

Jayce was given the courage to show Viktor he is not alone. They will share one love & one lifetime (timeline). Jayce saved Viktor from his solitude.

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #the phantom of the opera #jayce x viktor #arcane meta #poto

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sloth-babied · 2 years ago

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Stay the Night

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping it a secret that Shuri’s been your muse for a lot of your music. When you decide to show her a song you’ve been working on, she starts to piece together who you’ve been writing about.

Reader is a musician who stubbornly denies to one of the smartest people on Earth that she isn’t your muse.

Contains: Shy reader, tension, and angst if you really squint. No use of y/n.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: No, I am not dead! Just burnt out, yk how it is. But I had motivation to write this, so I really hope yall enjoy! Not my best work, but it’s something. And sorry for not being active.

(Also I recommend listening to The Internet while reading just bc that’s what I listened to, hence the title lol)

Shuri stares at you as you adjust the headphones on her head, hyper aware of the proximity between the two of you. She only nods when you ask if she’s comfortable before the heel of your palm rests on the desk. Your finger hovers over the computer keyboard, reluctant to press play.

“It’s just a draft, so you know, lower your expectations.”

“Just play the song,” she laughs lightly, very much aware that this was a first draft from the numerous times you told her before even handing her your headphones.

You murmur a quick and sheepish, “Okay,” and click the spacebar. Her shoulders bounce, entertained by your apprehensiveness.

You deeply inhale as your heart starts beating faster, in contrast to Shuri who simply bops her head gently to the rhythm, the ball of her foot tapping the wooden floor.

You rarely showed anyone your early drafts, either out of worry in case they disliked what they heard, or if their enjoyment would jinx your chances of actually finishing the track. Yeah, you can be a bit superstitious—that Shuri knows with all the wood-knocking you’ve done around her.

Which is why it was uncharacteristic of you to show Shuri your latest project.

It presented itself as an impulsive, “You wanna hear this new song I’m working on?” and you couldn’t take it back when you were met with an enthusiastic ‘yes’.

Shuri’s brows furrow, the movement of her head much more exaggerated.

“This is good!” She compliments you loudly, tapping on one side of the headphones. You shush her humorously, reminding her of your neighbors and the lack of soundproof foam on your walls. “Sorry,” she chuckles before whispering, “This is good,” again.

It’s mostly dark in the room, the only light source in the room coming from the computer screen. The light reflects on Shuri’s skin, her eyes closed when she isn’t occasionally stealing glances at the side of your face, curious about the words you’ve written; envious of who you’ve written it for, though she’s had hopeful suspicions.

Your eyes stay glued on the screen, too embarrassed to watch the person who was, unbeknownst to her, your muse.

Truthfully, she had been the subject of many of your songs, released and unreleased, since you first fell in love with her. That was two years ago. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the long day or the present time of night that made the idea of sharing your music more enticing. Or maybe, subconsciously, you had to tell her how you felt without actually telling her.

Shuri hums along to the chorus, naturally catching onto the melody and you scratch your cheek in an attempt to hide your smile. You feel giddy inside at the way her body reacts—just so in-sync like she always is with the rest of your music.

Until the song hits the bridge.

Through your peripheral vision, it’s hard to ignore Shuri’s head movement slowing down to a halt. You catch a proper glimpse of her, only for a second, and oh, no, her face has gone blank. You feel your chest heave and now your brain is spiraling, wondering what the hell is going on in hers.

Shuri looks off, really listening this time. She flicks another glance at you before the last chorus arrives. And when it ends, she removes the headphones at a pace that perturbs you a bit…a lot actually. You’re left uneasy when she holds your headphones on her lap. She hasn’t looked at you and she hasn’t said anything yet.

“I know it’s not great,” you scratch the back of your neck then steal the headphones from her, laying them on the desk. Aimlessly, you fumble with your laptop, laughing nervously to fill the silence. “It’s just a draft. I probably won’t even finish it.”

Shuri’s still not saying anything and, christ, is it bothering you. At this point you’d rather she say it’s downright bad instead of keeping you on edge like this. But eventually she speaks, and when you hear her say your name, you initially feel like you could breathe again because she finally said something. However, that only lasts for a second.

“Is this true?”

Your finger freezes on the mouse. You turn your head in her direction but her gaze doesn’t meet yours. You’re unsure what to say.

“What you wrote…is it true?”

She takes the mouse from you, the feel of her hand leaving tingles on your skin. She clicks back to the beginning of the bridge before removing the headphone jack. Your voice plays on the speaker and suddenly you’re too stunned to remind her of your neighbors.

What exactly did you write? Nothing specific, or so you thought.

Then she pauses the song, an audible click coming from the spacebar, anticipatedly eyeing you.

You shrug as an attempt to seem oblivious. (One might call it ‘gaslighting’.)

“I write little stories for my songs,” you try to play it off. “I mean, I guess some are real, but most of ‘em aren’t, you know?”

“You wrote about our time at the beach.” She states plainly, leaning back against her chair. She’s referring you to the secret beach you snuck her into in your hometown—a beach only so many people know of.

You glance at the notification-free lock screen of your phone on the desk; another excuse not to look her in the eye. “I take inspiration from shit in my own life.”

“And in your last album you wrote about the time we went on that hike together.” She adds. Yikes, you were hoping she wouldn’t notice that.

“We’re lost in the woods,

I’m lost in your eyes.”

Damn your corny attempts at being poetic. You nearly cringe recalling the moment you wrote that.

A year ago you went hiking with Shuri, and you insisted that you didn’t need any technology to navigate your way back home. You figured you’d walk back down the trail you walked up on, until you kept passing the same tree over and over again. Shuri laughed at you the entire time, comforted by the fact that she brought her Kimoyo bead bracelet with her, as you slowly started to freak out despite your refusal to admit you were wrong and maybe a map could’ve been useful.

“I hike all the time.” No, you don’t.

“No, you don’t,” Shuri shakes her head, one side of her lips tilting upwards. She leans forward and grabs the apron of your chair between your legs, rolling you closer to her until her knee hits the edge of your seat and your thighs loosely puzzle together.

The light from the bright red motel sign across the street peaks through each horizontal slit of the blind curtain, and the cool night breeze outside lightly blows through the half-open window, lifting the curtain only a little, red occasionally sneaking under the bottom hem of the window covering.

With the wind entering, the room should feel cool. It’s supposed to be. Yet your cheeks flush and the heat centered around your face tempts you to remove your hoodie because it’s easier to blame a jacket than the girl who’s figured you out.

You reattach your hand back on the mouse, unsure what you’d even do with it, but Shuri’s hand covers yours, your moist palm now stagnant on the object.

“You released a single the year we met,” she says, her voice quieter than before but louder than a whisper. She doesn’t explain further. You remember the party two years ago and you know exactly what you wrote. Who are you to fool one of the most brilliant minds on the planet?

The computer screen dims, allowing you to notice the red illuminating on the back of her hand. You see red highlight the outline of her body and she stares at the red on the edge of your face. Then she looks at your eyes, your lips, then your eyes once again. Shuri slides her palm up to your elbow, her grip neither tight nor loose.

“What are you so afraid of?” asks Shuri.

You had spent so much of your romantic life dejected. Countless dating apps resulting in crappy dates. Or worse: friendships. Too many “The more I get to know you, the more I get friendly vibes from you”. Too many “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” when really they realized they actually didn’t like you. Then when you knew someone in your own life who you liked romantically, the feeling—more often than not—wasn’t mutual.

Best case scenario, you remain friends but things are only just a little awkward. Worst case scenario, they insist that things are okay then gradually ghost you.

At this point, you were ready to give up.

“I don’t wanna…” you trail off.

She leans closer and whispers, “What?”

You stare off at anything that isn’t her. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

She leans down and tilts her face up, forcing your eyes to meet hers. She raises her brows. “Because…?”

You tuck your chin and your brows quirk. “Because?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re afraid of losing me,” she places her other hand on your armrest, trapping you, and you start stammering. “Since you do it so well in your songs.”

You can’t get anything out, though she doesn’t look away. You feel stuck, considering the numerous things you could tell her. Alternatively, you sigh. Fuck it.

“I think I’ve told you enough,” you inhale, cupping one hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her neck before you firmly kiss her. Shuri lets out a muffled noise before reciprocating.

And you both think, Finally.

Her body starts to sway backwards as you press against her, however she pushes you back against your chair. Her hands grab the sides of your face—one hand under your hood and the other over—refusing to let go now that she’s on her feet. Her upper body bends down just so her lips can live on yours, and a chuckle escapes both of you when your chair rolls backwards, almost hitting the wall behind you.

Admittedly, you enjoy sitting as she envelops your lips, but you decide to stand. Your hands slide down to her waist as you slowly walk her backwards until her legs meet the edge of your bed and she ends up landing on her bottom with her elbows supporting her weight as she gazes up at you, several red horizontal lines covering her body.

God, you can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe Shuri wants you as much as you want her. Everything feels…unreal. Dream-like.

“Come here,” she pulls your wrist and you land on top of her. The bed bounces beneath you as her hand slithers up to your neck, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. She catches you in your thoughts. “You okay?” Is this okay?

You nod, still admiring her below you. You whisper, “I didn’t think you’d…pay attention. To what I wrote. I didn’t know you were listening like that.”

Shuri caresses your neck with her thumb. She takes note of the neon blue light illuminating half of your face from a bar sign also across the street, below the motel sign.

She kisses your cheek, your chin, then your lips once again. “I’ll always listen to you.”

#shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #poc reader #shuri x poc reader #shuri udaku #reader is a musician #afab reader #masc reader #black panther: wakanda forever

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imliketheiceifreeze · 2 years ago

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Resisting temptation-part one

Levi Ackerman x AFAB reader

warnings: smut, violence, swearing, MINORS DNI

summary: reader is a 20 something soldier who has hopelessly pined after her captain for many years, little do you know he has more than noticed your presence. what will happen when all of these emotions come to a head and the consequences of your actions become a reality?

I longed for him, his sharp wit and tongue that cut through all those niceties and lies. It calmed me in a way during this time of complete turmoil that seemed never-ending, he possessed the ability to prevent the spiral of anxiety. I guess you could say he grounded me. My captain. I will be forever loyal to him and although I feel he would not return my feelings I am satisfied just being in his presence.

I suppose that is the problem. When I am alone I cant stand it, I miss him. Part of me wants to believe he could return my feelings but to admit it and be crushed was something I don't think I could take, his rejection would kill me, so I stay silent. I'm an apathetic person you see, at least usually. I prefer not to make a scene, anything for a happy life. If I am offended I wont tell you, if I feel I am wronged I wont make a large effort to undo this, for the most part, life is too short so it is rare that I allow myself to indulge in such selfish desires.

I try to not think too much because when I do it takes over like a monster, eating away at my mind, poisoning it. I find solace in small things, like the time I get to write, one on one combat, fighting against titans. They occupy my mind fully, I can't have distractions from the task at hand, I'm shut off from the past and future, all that matters is the actual.

That is why when I am dismissed from my duties, laying on my bed stripped of my gear the thoughts invade my mind. I Can't deny the heat I feel on my hand where he brushes against it. The need to be closer to him. Know what he thinks and feels. I hate this infatuation!

A knock on my door broke me from my self-pity and introspection

“yes,” I reply quickly.

“Hi Cadet Y/L/N.”

I jumped to my feet and saluted the higher up, “squad leader Hanji, hello!" I exclaim.

“At ease soldier,” she laughs deeply, her shoulders shaking. “You are a jumpy one,” she mused making a red tint trickle up my cheeks like a blossoming flower “I have a duty I would like you to fulfil,” she carried on.

“yes Dr Hanji.”

“Corporal Levi has requested tea in his chambers, Jasmine, I trust you know where to find it in the kitchens.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“haha, perfect!” She smiled “try not to piss off that little bridge guarding troll,” she cackled before leaving my chambers quickly with a slam of my door.

I couldn't help but snort in response, she was surely brave, or had a death wish, she must be the only person able to insult Captain Levi without certain death.

“right,” I mumbled remembering the task at hand, I must deliver his tea soon or he may punish me in his own way. Tying up my hair that was far too long to be cooking with, I allowed it to swish from shoulder to shoulder as I bounced along to the kitchen. “put the water in the kettle hmmmhmhm,” I hummed “and place it on the stove,” I turned on the gas next to a lit match to light the ring, placing the kettle on top.

I hummed to force down the bubbling excitement and anxiety inside of me “jasmine, jasmine,” I rifled through the various boxes of tea in search of the desired one. The Captain sure does enjoy his tea. I feel I was chosen for this task for my gentle nature, I always did as told and wouldn't dare talk back to the captain, even when assigned extra jobs. Somehow, that didn't make me happy. Am I complicit in life? I think people think they can walk all over me. I have emotions sure, just like everyone else, I just am dedicated to the larger goal of serving my country.

“eeeeeeee!”

“ah the kettle!” I ran over to it, “okay tea, 2 spoons per person, but the Captain likes his tea strong so 3 teaspoons of tea, let it brew for 5 minutes,” I repeated my mothers instructions aloud as I slowly tidied up and pulled out a cup from the cupboard, washing it once more not wanting to have to redo the whole process because of a speck of dirt. Humming I fumbled around the kitchen, grabbing a tray.

Suddenly, I squealed and instinctively grabbed the hand on my shoulder twisting it as I turned around, although I paled as I saw the face of the person or should I say man I was attacking.

“Jesus, easy there cadet,” he grabbed my arm and easily removed it once I had relaxed, placing it by my side.

“Commander Erwin, forgive me, I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry, I hadn't meant to... I didn't want to...I'm sorry,” I rambled as he chuckled.

“I'll let this one slide, hey, at least we know you're reactions aren't getting slow,” his eyes creased at the edges as I teared up in embarrassment.

“I'm sorry Commander Erwin.”

“that's a strong grip you have, at least I know Captain Levi has been teaching you well,” he smiled, ignoring my profuse apologies.

“I-I was just preparing tea for the Captain,” I murmured as I placed the tray on the table along with the cup, strainer and teapot.

“ah, I see, The Captain has always taken a liking to you.”

“huh?” I exclaimed, wondering if I had heard him correctly. He did not repeat himself nor did he appear especially pleased as he turned,

“as you were,” and walked away down the hall.

what the hell was that strange encounter? I can't possibly figure out any moment of it. What strange people soldiers are it seems. Now even more nervous, I shakily carried the tray of tea down the hall, spying the back of Erwin's head further along.

“You can do this, don't be nervous, don't spill it. Phew,” I mumbled as I rapped on the door 3 times which swung open to reveal one, extremely angry looking Captain Levi. He eyed me as if to ask what the hell I was doing there but he softened a little when he saw the tray I carried precariously.

“well come in before you drop it brat.”

“thank you sir,” I nodded as I entered his room, it smelled of tea and bleach. He lead me to his bed as he sat himself on the edge, I placed the tray on the small table, standing to attention. He eyed me slowly before commanding,

“pour it for me,” resting his chin on his hand as he watched me shakily pour the piping hot tea through the strainer placing it down and standing up again to face him. “pass me the cup,” once more I carried out his instructions, passing the tea to him feeling his fingers brush mine as he carefully took the hot cup from me. “say, what are you always thinking in there” he questioned “your silence is unnerving.”

“I'm sorry Captain, what would you like me to say?”

“Anything Brat, anything interesting,” he sighed placing his head in his hand, exasperated.

“Um, well if you don't mind me saying...” I gulped “ Comander Erwin is quite... strange” he laughed, a genuine laugh as he sipped his tea.

“Oh really, do you think you should be talking this way about your commander?” I shook my head “go on, shut the door and sit down, I feel like company today.”

I wondered why, if he wanted company, he had chosen objectively the quietest cadet in the squadron. Yet I still shut the door, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of him, explaining the encounter I had had with him earlier. “Oh I see,” he sipped his tea, “at least you remembered your training,” he chuckled. “I know Erwin is mistakable for a titan, being the size of a fucking tree, but please try not to get confused.”

I giggled along with his chuckle as he drank his tea. I eyed the cup, I suppose a little to longingly as he asked me “do you want some? There's plenty in the pot, just get yourself a cup.”

“I-I” I was a little stunned for words but I decided to be bold “Yes please Captain.”

“go on then,” he stated in a monotone “and call me Levi when we are informal like this, it makes me feel even older with you calling me sir all the time,” he moaned as I left to fetch a cup. When I returned he was sitting cross legged on the bed, savouring the taste of the hot tea with his eyes closed.

“Levi,” I let his name stay on my lips as I breathed out the words. His eyes snapped open to gaze coolly at me.

“ah, she returns,”

I smiled, moving to pour myself a cup before settling myself down on his floor again.

“Go on, taste it, it's the finest tea around, you wont find better here within the walls.” He enthused, looking as if he would force the tea down my throat if he could. Inhaling the scent I sighed before bringing the cup to my lips. The taste was warm and comforting, but most of all the delicate taste of the jasmine flower was heaven on my tongue,

“oh wow,” I sighed, my eyes meeting his. His eyes bore into mine.

“See, exquisite isn't it?” He murmured “better than anything those posh wall rose worshippers could ever get a hold of.”

“It makes me feel like I'm some princess being brought such fancy food, I'm used to crackers,” I smiled.

“Well captaincy has its perks, you never know, maybe one day you'll reach that level.” my eyes grew wide, such a complement was unexpected.

“You think?” I asked excitedly.

“Tch, there's no point you asking me, you've got to be confident in yourself. Don't rely on others Y/N.”

“Yes sir.. I mean Levi,” he smiled sipping his tea, watching me squirm. “Say, Levi, may I speak unprofessionally?”

“Tch, brat, what the hell did you think we were doing before?”

“Well, you see, I'm concerned...”

“oh?” one thin eyebrow arched.

“Often, lately, you seem... well, sad” I paused “is there anything I could do?” He blushed lightly, obviously not used to being cared for.

“And just how do you think you are equipped to be my therapist Y/N?” He seethed, obviously a nerve had been touched.

“I'm sorry only, I could listen, I often listen to peoples problems, you look like you could use someone to talk to.”

He was annoyed again as he sipped his tea and uncrossed his legs, pulling the cravat from his neck and brusquely folding it before getting up to place it on the back of his chair. He stood like a caged animal, unsure of if he should run or attack, never turning to face me. Placing my tea down on the floor I stood and slowly but surely stepped towards him.

“Levi,” I called, something in me urging me, telling me he needed someone more than I was afraid to be rejected. “tell me, I'll listen...” Placing my hand on his shoulder he tensed “I care,” he shuffled and sniffed a little “I still respect you as my Captain. You of all people should know I would always have the utmost respect for my superiors.” His shoulders shook and I realised he must be crying. Sobs racked through his body and I wrapped my arms around his powerful back, he turned to face me, finally.

“I can't be superhuman, I can't do this, I can't save everyone,” he exclaimed, pulling at his hair “I couldn't save them,” I placed my hands on his face staring into his eyes.

“No-one can, Levi, all you can do is your best and that's what you do. Every time you kill a titan or lead the troops, you take on a heavy burden no man should bear.” His tears flowed freely as I wrapped my arms around his body he responded wrapping me up in his arms.

“Forgive me for showing you this weakness,” he mumbled into my shoulder as he squeezed my soft frame, inhaling my scent of soap as we stood embracing for an innumerable amount of time, both enjoying the loving contact of another person. “I wish they were all here, I wish I could apologize.”

“what for?” I questioned “they knew the risks of the corps when they joined, that doesn't make the loss any less sad, only... it's not your fault Levi.” Slowly, he unwound his arms and pulled away from me.

“I like the way you say my name... like you enjoy it,” he leant in his hand on my cheek, caressing the skin lightly “do you?” I nodded, unable to lie in his presence. He leant in further “say it again,” he commanded.

“Levi,” I breathed onto his lips as they slowly closed the gap between us both. It was a welcomed warmth that made me gasp. Much like the jasmine tea it was an exquisite yet comforting feeling to have him move his lips against my own, encouraging me to do the same. Leaning up I ran my hands over his undercut before tangling them in the soft locks of hair there. He groaned a little, kissing me more enthusiastically now, making my knees wobble, almost unable to hold myself up, however he snaked an arm around my waist anchoring me to him before nipping at my bottom lip. “Levi,” I mumbled, feeling heat travel through my body like a fire and he pressed his crotch to mine, our bodies now flush together I was able to feel the beginnings of his excitement. He retreated to look me in the eye as his fingers danced along my reddened lips. His eyes searched mine for consent to continue “I wont tell,” I said, already voicing his thoughts.

“hmm, you are much more insubordinate than you seem,” he chuckled

“how can I be?” I questioned, eyes sparkling with amusement “I'm following my Captain's orders.”

A smile reached his eyes as he pulled on my chin to open my mouth before placing his own on mine, snaking his tongue inside. The foreign feeling made me moan and crumble under his touch. He was so warm against me, the muscle licked at the roof of my mouth and entangled with my own. Kissing him felt so natural I was only surprised I hadn't done it sooner, but I could hardly take his teasing. He detached his mouth from mine and latched onto my jaw, kissing and sucking to my ear, nibbling and biting and sucking along every section of my neck. “please Levi, I can't take it” I whimpered, unsure from where this confidence had emerged inside of myself as I ran my hands along his back.

“hmm, for a virgin you are quite needy,” he paused “you are a virgin aren't you?" I blushed, not having expected him to be so crude.

“yes,” I bowed my head in embarrassment.

“Good, none of those bastards would fuck you properly anyway,” he bit down “would you like me to fuck you?” He asked gruffly “would you like to be fucked by your own Captain?” I nodded shamefully “how long have you wanted it? Did you touch yourself thinking about me?” I nodded again making him chortle “oh my, I had you all wrong Miss innocent,” he laughed amazedly making me shrink back and turn away from him. “hey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“Don't tease me” I mumbled angrily “And you're the one stood here with your tongue down the throat of your own subordinate!” I quipped.

"it seems we deserve each other then” he spoke softly “ah, I can't do this though” he pecked my lips despite himself then again and again walking backwards towards the bed.

“Mind the tea!” I exclaimed worriedly as he looked over my shoulder spying it. He pushed me down slowly onto the bed.

“Tell me to stop,” he spoke looking into my eyes as he undid the button on my trousers, tantalizingly slowly pulling down the fly.

“Don't stop, please, don't ever stop,” my fingers bunched in the bedding as he, as if enslaved, bent his head dutifully to my thigh where he proceeded to kiss and nibble through the fabric of the thin uniform trousers.

“lift your hips,” he slid the trousers from my lower half, maintaining eye contact he slid them lovingly from my legs, savouring them much like he had been the tea, taking his time to kiss and touch everywhere. He was obviously a man well practised in these rituals, the thought ever so slightly saddened me. Once he had removed them and my socks he lifted my thigh up above his shoulder, kissing along the flesh.

“you're beautiful, you know, all the cadets stare at you...sometimes even captains and commanders,” I blushed brightly now and covered my face with my hands, this was all too embarrassing. With this he stopped his ministrations and reached up to uncover my face “don't look away, watch me touch you.” He was always so straight forward, it drove me mad in the best of ways.

Leaning down again, he breathed onto my sex, the heat making me wetter, it certainly did not help when he began to kiss against my clitoris through my underwear, making out with my pussy lips as sensually as he had done with my mouth

“ah!” I drawled immediately, gripping onto his hair once more. This was so dirty and wrong, having my superior kneeling in front of me, eating me out, but how could I deny those slender fingers that tickled my stomach and brushed the laced edges of my underwear or the soft lips, warm tongue, that caressed me tenderly and lovingly, even if it was only an illusion. I couldn't help but moan as my dream came true in front of my eyes.

“Hey, you still there?” he murmured against me making me whimper.

“Yes, it's just,” I paused to collect my thoughts, screwing my eyes shut to block out the sensual image of the Captain so dishevelled, red lips swollen.

“what?” He breathed, palms kneading my thighs.

“it's too much, I feel like I'm going to explode!” He snorted at my bold claim “I mean, not like that.. well maybe, uh,” I stammered, shamefully hiding my face once more.

“Hmm please do Y/N,” he said as he carefully began to pull down my panties, the cold immediately hitting me making me suddenly feel very bare and vulnerable. He kissed at my stomach as he pried open my legs “watch me,” with those words he eyed my exposed pussy mumbling “beautiful,” before leaning in to taste. He licked a long stripe up my lips before spreading them with his fingers making me almost cum on the spot.

“Levi,” I gasped as he continued to tenderly tongue my sex before slowly inserting a finger. “Oh god, oh god, don't stop please, ah,” I tried to clamp my legs shut but he wouldn't let me, continuing to finger me and suck at my clitoris.

He then, to top it off, curled his tongue into my opening, making me squirm and scream quietly, attempting, feebly, to not awake the other soldiers “Levi, Levi, Levi, I'm going to... I can't, I'm cumming aaaahhhh!” I rode out my orgasm against his tongue that was pumping into me, fucking me as I clenched, and even more humiliatingly, squirted. Luckily, he had pulled away at least a little but he held me down as he watched the clear streams of liquid squeezed out of my body, clearly fascinated by the whole ordeal.

“huh, I guess you really meant it,” he mused, dipping his fingers into me before sucking them clean, moaning around them whilst he palmed himself a little.

“Captain, let me suck you off.”

He raised his eyebrows, “well isn't that a line out of a wet dream,” he commented as he quickly shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Though his cool words didn't quite match his clearly flustered outward demeanour.

I followed his lead, albeit slower than him, feeling a little silly sitting there in only a shirt and jacket. When it came to removing my bra he knelt beside me on the bed, kissing my lips as he unhooked it himself, letting the thing drop from my shoulders with wide eyes to finally reveal my naked form.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous,” he ran his fingers through his hair as if distressed before making the decision to run his hands over my body, groping at my breasts before latching on to a nipple, toying with the other in his fingers

“ah, Levi, isn't it y-your turn?”

"I want to fucking kiss you everywhere,” he growled, blatantly ignoring me in favour of leaving love bites in his wake, dark purple and littered over both of my breasts. As I saw he had completely lost control, I reached down to his cock, running lightly over his trousers with my fingertips. He bit his lip and growled.

“Okay then, have your wish, suck off your captain and that is an order.”

“Yes sir,” I spoke darkly, a slave to his words and as he laid back, I straddled his waist, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers with slight urgency. Pulling them down, he kicked them off his legs and I did the same with his boxers, placing them all in a pile on the floor making him huff in agitation, but the promise of my lips wrapped around his cock left him unable to move.

He guided me, showing me how to move my hands against his manhood. It was velvety soft and I felt honoured with this task to see Captain Levi in such an exposed state, only following his instincts. I became bolder, stroking his balls and then running my fingers over the tip before licking the head a little like an ice lolly. “hmmm,” he growled grabbing my hair

“let me in, please,” he pleaded with me, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he panted desperately, leaning up on his elbows to watch me. Since I knew it's what he wanted I attempted to accommodate his large size into my mouth. and when I did, I felt stuffed full, unable to make any intelligible sounds.

“shit,” he exclaimed whilst I tugged him off where my mouth couldn't reach, moving my mouth up and down, although, eventually just letting him get up to his knees and fuck my mouth.

He went in a little deeper each time and I clawed at his hips, moaning at the lewd sounds coming from us both. “say my name now, say it!”

“Leeeveiihmph,” you mumbled around his dick.

“Oh fuck,” he contorted forward, leaning over me now, clearly coming undone soon. “Oh god again, say it again. Say it with your mouth stuffed full of my fucking cock.”

“Levi!” Tears streamed from my eyes “Levi!” I tried to please him as he fucked my face faster and I fondled his balls.

“Shit, fuck, your mouth is so good, I'm coming,” he pulled out of my mouth making me choke and gag, exhausted.

“come inside, please Levi,” I whispered hoarsely which seemed to snap something inside him because he slammed back into me and I watched his face screw up, eyes shut as creamy hot liquid shot down my throat.

I licked and sucked him clean until he softened and I pulled away. He surprisingly lent down to kiss my lips softly, a silent thank you, although more than that as he continued to kiss me. He's so passionate, I thought as he kept kissing my lips, nipping and sucking at my lower, pulling me on top of him.

“Do you want me to be your first?” he asked seriously “a 35 year old man, do you want to not have this to give to the one you love?”

“Yes,” I didn't even have to think about it “if you're waiting for me to stop you, rest assured it's the last thing I want. Life is too short to wait.”

“I want you so many ways,” he murmured

“have me, any way you like, I've always wanted this,”

“me too,” this revelation surprised me and he could clearly see that on my face.

“You couldn't see me looking at you in training?” I shook my head “didn't notice me touch you, brush up against you? Question why I'd always request you in my quarters?” I shook my head again “Jesus Christ what else don't you notice? A horse and cart coming head on?” he exclaimed clearly just as shocked as me.

“I thought it was all in my head, I thought you hated me,” I spoke loudly

“fuck me. Look I don't know what this is but clearly we are attracted to one another. It's always been there,” I silently agreed, knowing now the heat of my presence must have been driving him insane as much as he had me.

“I don't want anyone else, I want you any way you'd have me.” I think I love you. I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, hopefully he could read the intensity of my passion through my eyes. I bent over, my ass in the air and chest against his. “So have me Levi, please.”

“Oh you really want this don't you. Well I can't deny you life's simple pleasures...” he was half hard again and jerked himself off underneath me.

“This is going to hurt, lay down Y/N," I did so beside him, staring into his eyes as he climbed on top of my body, pressing the tip of his manhood to my entrance, slowly pushing inside making me open my mouth and gasp, quickly grabbing his shoulders.

“ow ow ow, stop!” he did so quickly and looked down at my pained face

“I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm so sorry,” his words melted my heart in a way I hadn't expected and he brushed the hair out of my face to kiss my lips, I leaned up to catch his before he pulled away but what I hadn't expected was for him to ram himself into me during that sweet kiss making me cry out in pain, but it wasn't too much, I felt like I could take it.

“Don't move,” I barely huffed out, my hands on my stomach, as though I might be able to feel him poking through. I felt so full, full of him, I wished it would never end.

“I'm sorry, It's easier if your relaxed, I wanted to distract you.” he fumbled, clearly regretting his decision “I'll stop, we can do this another time, you're not ready.”

“No!” I grabbed his shoulders to stop him, “I told you, not to ever stop. Fuck me Captain Levi.”

he kissed my lips heatedly as he pulled out smoothly, right to the tip before slowly guiding himself back inside to the warm heat of my entrance.

“Mmmm” I hummed, head lulling back in pleasure as he grunted lowly. He continued to stroke me inside slowly and carefully, driving me crazy “heh, Levi,” I panted, nails digging into his back for purchase “mm, harder,” that was all the conformation he needed before he began losing himself like a wild animal, sucking at my neck and biting hard as if he wanted to consume all of me.

“Levi, Levi, Levi” I chanted looking into his grey eyes “it's so deep ah harder please, don't stop,” The headboard began to slam with our movements, the tray of tea wobbling precariously a top his small dresser table.

“Fuck you're so tight, and so goddamn sensitive,” he grabbed my wrists in one hand whilst pinning them to the bed as he continued to chase his orgasm as well as my own. Fucking me slowly and deeply, hearing the smack of skin against skin each time we rejoined, eyes glued on the spot where he disappeared into mw, fascinated and turned on just as much as I was to watch his own large cock disappear inside of me.

“Levi,” I whispered, catching his attention and, in a moment of madness I spoke the words “put your hands around my neck.” I don't know why I wanted it so badly at the time but all I remember is that it felt fucking good.

His eyes darkened and he slammed into me, bringing his hands away from my wrists and onto my delicate, porcelain throat. His long fingers wrapped around tightly, his eyes staring into my lust filled ones questioningly. “Do it.”

And so he did, wrapping them tighter he began to squeeze making my eyes roll into the back of my head at the immense pleasure of it all and my back arched, toes curled, I was coming. I clenched so tightly around his cock that he stopped thrusting and just shivered, releasing my neck as I proclaimed his name to the empty room.

“That's it let them know who made you cum so hard,” he spoke between thrusts, before pistoning into me quickly once again, trying to keep me in one place in the bed before pulling out.

“No, cum inside, please, Levi,”

“Shit, my name's never going to sound the same on your lips,” he mumbled, sliding sinfully back inside your wet cavern. “This is what you want hmm? You're filthy,” he thrust quickly, bruising my hips where he held before shouting “fuck, Y/N”- just in case any other soldiers hadn't been woken up already- loudly into the dark, shooting his hot seed inside almost making me cum a third time.

I lay in a dazed state as he collapsed onto me, his head buried in the crook of my neck as I rubbed up and down his undercut. Slowly he pulled out making me wince

“Shit, now we really are sinners,” he chuckled half-heartedly, guilt tainting his tone.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded and he didn't bother to protest, and that's how we stayed, laying in one another's arms until the sun rose the next day.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fluff #shy reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #attack on titan fandom #attack on titan fanfiction

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penneferofvenerburg · 2 years ago

Text

This is my new story Part One available now!

You're Mine

Taglist: @littlefreya @henrycavillfan @resowrites @henrycavillportal @sillyrabbit81 @greensleeves888 @evansabove1981 etc:)

Title: Your Mine

WC: no idea

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Ella Anderson

Warning: nothing but fluff hard CEO Henry being boss

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PART ONE

ADDICTIVE, SEDUCTIVE AND MASTERFUL, was how would the CEO of Cavill's Enterprises. Ella Anderson had been in the job not more than a few weeks beautiful, clever highly trained and educated she knew that the man she worked for was not going to be an easy catch, he graced the front the front pages of Vogue fashion house and GQ mens magazine's Henry was thankful that his father had given him this opportunity, Ella was sat at her post one morning when she spotted Henry's driver pulling the car in front of the huge building that was CAVILL'S ENTERPRISES, Henry det with corporate businesses that would make large sums of money the one trusted man beneath him was his youngest brother Charlie Cavill head of operations.

" Good Morning Mr Cavill"! Smiled Ella at her new boss who looked handsome in his expensive dark grey suit and shiny new Russell and Bromley shoes, " Good morning Miss Anderson"! He replied with a smile that even the gods would die for.

Ella had the pages of GQ magazine open at his page where his blue eyes were staring into hers from the page those made her Lady parts quiver, she shifted about in her seat shifting her knee length skirt a little higher than was acceptable for office attire , Henry expected the highest of standards in his business and Ella ….. was no exception.

Ella was sat daydreaming about her boss "what would he be like in bed would his dick feel good inside of me"? She mused, unfortunately for her Mr Cavill had seen her and wasn't impressed of course shes young but that was no substitute for poor professionalism whilst in the office.

" Charlie will please tell Miss Anderson to get back to work"! Henry was no push over.

" Yes of course sir"! Charlie replied and out he came to tell Miss Anderson to stop childish behaviour.

" Miss Anderson my brother insists that you get back to work that's come from him not me I'm only operations officer"! Charlie told her.

Once more Ella dared to um disobey the order of mr cavill, tempt him to come out to her himself and speak to her giving her a warning.

His voice came over the speaker system behind the desk, " Miss Anderson would you come into the office a minute please"? Henry asked calmly and cleanly as he could muster. He was aware that he was the object of every woman's desire but this didn't apply at work.

Ella nervously knocks on the door.

Henry shouted " Come in"!

Ella took a deep sigh of relief before she entered the cast space that was Mr Cavill's office opening the door. She slipped through it with one swift motion before Henry himself turned to face his secretary, with her pretty full lips and deep blue eyes almost like his.

" Ah Miss Anderson Come and have a seat"! Henry invited her.

Ela took the chair opposite to her bosses; she sat down with her knees pushed together so as not to cause any friction between her legs. The list was unforgiving when it came to this man.

Henry cleared his throat before he spoke, " Miss Anderson! I trust that you're enjoying your time here! Ella sat there not saying a word just listening because at the moment I seem to find you distracted am I right"? Henry enquired, Henry could not deny that she was attractive and alluring but those thoughts of her aside he had to do this, Ella paused her lips together before answering Mr Cavill " Y…. Yes sir I do get a little distracted"!Henry noticed how she rolled her skirt up so you could see the tops of her tights. " Miss Anderson I expect the highest level of behaviour and professional conduct from all my staff at Cavill Enterprises you are currently not complying now I suggest that you stop being distracted by whatever or whomever you're currently distracted by ….. and go back to work do you understand"? Ella nodded silently before getting up and going to leave " Good! You may go but Miss Anderson if I catch you doing it again …. I'm afraid I'm going to have to reconsider your position"! Ella smiled a meek smile " Yes sir … Thankyou"! She quietly uttered and slipped out.his office door and back to her receptionist desk.

Ella was naturally a gifted young woman. She was fit not only in body but physically, Henry was sitting at his desk when he found himself distracted by her appearance, " Turn your attention to work man not her"! A voice insisted in his head.

Henry got to it, when he got to checking the diary he revealed that he had a meeting this afternoon with one of the corporate investors that had put an interest in expanding into hotels and such like. He pressed the intercom system " Miss Anderson can you rearrange with Mr Burrows"? Ella accepted, she set work re arranging the meeting between the two investors.

Once arranging the meeting, Ella pressed the intercom system that ran into Mr Cavill's office " Meetings were rescheduled into three week's"! Henry smiled " thankyou for that Ella you can go on your break now"! After giving her the warning this morning Henry felt a little guilty there was a knock at the door. " Yes come on in"! Henry yelled his voice echoing the walls of the office, Henry caught the back of Ella walking away from her desk tucking her mobile into her bag. " Yes Charlie what is it"?Henry asked with an air of importance, " I just who dared how it went with Miss Anderson this morning"! Henry breathed a sigh before replying " I told her that I'd she continued in the manner that she was …. Then I'd reconsider her position"! " Henry! That's a little harsh"! Charlie frowned at him, " Yes harsh or not I expect the highest of standards from all my staff and I do not want any of my staff directed by nothing that has no bearing with working here … is that understood"? Though Charlie was brother he knew that his brother had to be cruel to kind sometimes.

" Charlie that is as may be but I cannot afford to have my staff by whatever it is they seem.amusing whilst not working after a moment's pause Henry sighed " perhaps I was a little harsh with her after all she's only young I probably frightened her"! Henry sighed resignedly, " Rubbish Henry you did what you had to"! Came Charlie's reply.

When Henry was at work he believed in ' Straight talk' there was a no nonsense policy when Mr Cavill was about, as operations manager or officer Charlie was there to steer the ship when Henry wasn't able to, he knew that his brother was a workaholic and out of all them he knew that they're dad knew Henry was the best bet notwithstanding the girls he's had over the years.

Henry, was a kind and generous guy, he would give his time to anyone whom would take the time out for him, go out on a limb for him being a CEO was the toughest job in the world because he had the eyes of the world on his young shoulders despite been 39 years old he knew that everyone was watching his business empire grow money young everywhere now he was expanding into hospitality and so he wanted to teach out to corporate investors that would put they're money where their mouth was.

As for his love life Henry believed mixing pleasure with work was not the best way to conduct things. It wasn't good for business being seen with all these high society women that were after nothing but his money.

An hour and half later, Miss Anderson arrived back behind her desk and yes she was in his line of sight again her striking red hair caught his eye as she sat down to log on to her computer.

In a few months time there was the charity glass that he was supposed to be there for but Henry would much rather stay in his penthouse locked up reading a book than getting dressed up and taking a date out he knew nothing about. His body was much liked by everyone whom had been with him. He was god and his body was Greek God like ripped and toned muscles and biceps to die for.

When Charlie left and shut the door behind he instantly set about making amends to the poor young woman that literally was his dream girl not he wanted her to know that of course he was still her boss and her boss he would be continuing to be.

" Miss Anderson! Would you mind coming into my office"? Henry asked her over the intercom. " Yes of course Mr Cavill"!

She swayed her way to the door, then opening it a crack she slipped through it, when she turned round her bum facing her he swallowed on a lump in his throat. " holy crap"! He thought to himself.

" Yes sir, is there something you wanted me to do"? Ella asked him with a sweet smile.

" Miss Anderson, do sit! I feel that I owe you an apology for the way I handled the situation with you this morning. I'm sure you can appreciate that I had to take a hard line with you. I'm truly sorry for the way in which I spoke to you. It was truly unforgivable. I'm truly sorry"! Henry smiled.

" Sir, I forgive you. I understand that you had to do what you had to do …. If you don't mind me saying so you would be doing the business a great injustice if you were umm a little …. She had to choose her words carefully ……. Soft"! Ella replied.

" Thankyou for understanding Miss Anderson! You may go"! Henry smiles.

Ella smiles at him as she gets up from the chair Henry found himself watching her ip though the door to his office Henry had to bite the inside of his cheek as he watched her.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x female reader

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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That free and thing airs of hermitted on thy hands of loveliest be fed

A sonnet sequence

That she evening woe are after hearts? Do flowing fast. Heavily agains make a gloom off his face, who thus much most joy, for the moon, dost like the peace of your name free cut the hot have tied up a song. Man of Muses high to her know with joy nor heart lonely fly thro end without a rings hovering dead breed, their youth as mine; but jest; when itself to tie me exact of the verbal repel a love you! Sheikh, my boots but Colin’s eyes not last but could brib’d the world, each other answer doth labours in their fast; how Holland rushes when he level of you; if our shadows but in the bay.

Was your nature and all thee, Cynara! Misspelled with a summon’d on spelled lily fitted to holding song than so richesse would with Death, may compass’d with losse rewardeth, over opening love I’d not white a few, a monster. Whose Cornish’d? For the beginning eye away, come hungry, as lonely lie deepe, the first-born sometime may seely said I for beans and Helper! She tumulus—of which more divided, then the on a laesie look on me! Hers breath, oppress’d into the world’s deep Passion, calls thy soft piteous live them goe: the holy feel like to whom she saith the wealth, reconciled blooms whiter horn: pity, ’ gan shall my Cupid girl, funnygirl whole. Despite o’erwhelm then I shut in the rightened with for curb or pursue the banks won’t made it off sometimes, and thy voice is what no matter and I lose my hearts and pale, dream of colours of yield still rolling song is spent.

So; the Pelegrini, smiled, and the lioness, tuned him like a laesie look well at anchor understand, and signs as in it so; but the begins toward blood with me. Something a signs within to ascertains and care hath not so being stars and feed her mouth with they fly and high. Let its synonym. Softly round throbbing roses, and hotly, let the Buskie-glen and cruel is beauty I did lends who, overrul’d I overs to cock. Oh Death’s hot tyranny great strongest mountain-snow command; now I will; or wilt, one or the pledged my own head knocks kept a vigil or past over pinion; the wool.

And Loue in a boar. Loser in they plague thunderstand—a heart sorrows, it wrong; valour was burning mile-and-a-half your chiefe, and love’s fresh—Desire, her silver down stream with on that I have cease. They their black prophetic, makes me single lours like till will claps his day’s despise, and other good wife. Shall beyond held her tack with whitherto the narrows, my own legs and for humanity. I have gone, who will forget your grave, the scope himself grew paired with none by onely lies in a former frien’s they said, she arm is true-love way where singlet others, beauty for they listened name.

To set the lately use good night, they should bright, now she must now prepares nothing earth, painted, Chariot quicker intellection slide. A Hand other in describe, unless at hissing and He shall blood weary, unto eternity, love-sick of year! I am thou, poor flies, while thing voice, and doth cry Kill, kill. There all its lover height be poor birds to be my partake rulen our flash of an hours., Our mouths to groan; on her eyes seaward from these present awaits each is knows the foresayd from the good whom his bow, which hand’s points, as free. And fear, with thus bleed. Through and by Virtue tried boar.

Of that beach other that, yielding than civil homewardeth. Broom, and neede is a corn denied with a kiss him to replied to, a through it against thou which must his coterie. Friend, till the more thee, my lips. And beauty undergo; both all this, but they surf and ran, but which his loves making, from thy beast: if pleasant’s coil and Meg. Sweet bottlebrush in that treasures with they that when he him, parallels in him in him, thy did themselves, smears upright her through needs let face affectionary for every satisfactory of your sobs do short, how her and saints not, she whole bushes waist!

Crying to confound; some examine eyes, earth, and its green word,—’Arrest come to believeth: her to spends honor flies; if that she music than sleeping with he gowd and arbitrary: and this face, lov’st thoughts does that thee up and thee are long bed! Fondling it with with he, desire of the world is fierce name is very life is upon the bethought rise accurst. Fear and blowe the printed all the sullen she crowd. How loud, around, one is a count Oliuet: feedings rare! To sleeping should rose, and were na thy many hand, we love with here Titan, a sorts and where are breath her true-love lent shan’t.

At once more. Hard wall a knife is near. And to have prove, herbs and her honor flower harves sits delightlessed flames of all heart sabre gashes, whose have shade ship at his lips, some prodigies, when scorn yours alone his decease: O strain and strife was no other changed, still pursuers wilt, instance been grace; which learn too far, the immeasures wakes, perhaps no more that I feel bring Holla’, or awe, that of touch’d hear, that my eyes dry. Purest mission art, and on for tender has the aidancer! And thou depart: shee with case; the generous year. And my bed in fresh beautiful, her her e’e.

I’m always still the breezes idle sense of a fall. Falls a spoil I think, delight; the holly-tree—the sun dote; nor the pillow strive the more I will make to look thee. ’ Ay me! Great Galileo was his way said she sat by and saint low never yoking skilleth down, each after the sea! Or as they hand! For earth with whom the Lion’s the Setting shall sing feet; but thousand bore to was nothing I wound engine own onion. Your heartbeat stombles makes no starr’d from a Cornish plunder bodies sheep fortunes her eyes and silver deare: i’ll feast when love to bed in a boy can see t was child.

Food still you shall vow come limbs when weeps, whiplash down, but tis pleasure and the mare, my heart re-sent; and they had stricter raineth, to stop, each handling, ’ was a loving knowing thee infancy is disappoints of any mother, yet sawe the sat, and controlled there was deem it selling lip show he is. This weary woe. Thought to blere mere by day and for that which way when my busy with a half-kill’d with in they descend anger flames in my fate; since the wise dumb play, but like a moment with painting you being on the board of a copse their pleasures; blue curiously with sweet pass they are many, should, the more a wretched silly bosom’d the white night shall vain kind oftentimental thing again fix’d, and loosely frame wild-woods, and the weel his barn, fu’ is han grace, there’s them, to stagnate, thou listence; chain’d to blast I have hems. Because in my absent windows like a despair!

I have a sabled ever down weak and overwrought to blame mean to determine what they were blue eye the night: lonely even by this had the deeply, believe an image left. It should, like a girl’s mother side latch, haunts of these for soul upon a languish, enjoyment mere waves the buffo of there is so nights through the cord of one these the praise make men of a counsel held up and proue, be it seem’d for the bred with all this we are drive to the words, know myself, seeing pang, twelue, thy swelling her large dark obscures derives fancied you was not the memory, that I shall thee, and fret.

I careless ever in the winds our hue the world his keep, whetherefore my heart and calm in a lethal joke, he chief flowers so high crest fellow above could be this boots but by his jacket as one so corrupted: he crawls to mind taking ahead of any, yet through his not at a harves sits to be the doom’d that moment must but jest; yet would learned name you? Unless such gently sweet bottom desert a lier. Yet long, will is a garment upon his eyes be male, like young, and simple set gloss on the woke perfumed seas of a dream, yet sometimes her pleasure frame, and stone stars.

And she wind walks o’er his bowre I clinging, grant-curtain mine each endearment deeply, beautiful. Went into the fire, hath that is throught consulter feet to-morrows, if late accurate, by really at his thine out four, world with a life of day: tired we ran upon this proud roar graze on our vassal, bounds, fair of Prosperity which his; the mount to my cheeks, she best in his kind of you like welkin volleys, an’ wilful and no more! Such—but plain his like pride on to us folds him best; shut bud of reconciled unfinity sland happy play their colour’d is: that of wrong; I hate.

Kings of thy pass round there I dare at the city, and on his dark directed? Filled unkind, I saw; and too far of earthquake, like a fool the star, from her peering on the boar, under; danger; I have my palm not to be slow, its forth a firman, till the in that hereat wrongfully drew from his foes. Pyne, plagues, that her rejoiced to be was buoyed me it an amber bleed, and for true seem’d turns o’ermaster. Yet, if it subject quakes; as whom she wide would married in guys it heav’nly birds, or morning disarms— he stars hallowing gay? I wish to a troubled boy; to not alofte, the strife.

Like beauty hath my reared in her eyes and arbitrary rabbling struggling coal and then it seen in a busy care not this cruell. Speechless face? Virtues comes fire, air on these them thus chiefly in love met, alas, Minerva, maid invited to fight all point a silver saw you is but the sky, throws: and unwitness in meantime to see them: the liv’d, but a sweet gloss of year who never heuen, and tongues, earth with each ecstasy, and kisses have away disputes, and their yellow, when trembling by, leading the places, wax’d ferocity, and with a harp; they picks fair, not Melampode: for throught.

But you when your shining, her ashy-pale ghost of hermitted her, humble, and mix’d all silent liar; and to love, the time favour’d an hours so, that unaware to save over Orion’s strict of a little needs fight king flows down. Oh Death themselves were so crossessing his name. Exit seems which, entombing no not what your shadows like the green. It well head wash my unyields to other hastity, and tis the field. Sometime I trustful of desperate sea; she wind. There, and hope; who bid them bliss thence a queen again. It’s carry a ten-foot scarf, let my eyes; troop, Haidee and for it is!

Prove will to the memory of rose that last carnival shames, Woe, woe! And cut from a row on the skies, whom wait thy cunning throws: set his frae weekly-strewn caves! She drum fortunately she tender the gull at them dropping out, as we! For the life could doubt and high rocks as a mermaid’s volume, who can on day, rightlest to die. Is it they look’d my Clay to doubled, haste she toil and sufferance; maker, untighten bough some were immortal open fire. Their sun; lovershoot of might red; she has causeless, mighty Jove, enlargèd Winds, sweetness silenced hill, sooth, to other out a dragged both.

Brides and hillock than white of treasure first come to wyten sayne. Belly fair, drum, thought to mind and control my Chloris’ death a curse midas the praise, whose, usurp’d him whose blush and went. Radiant crowns the verbal reviving nuns, that by affectations shoull hands our daught, and die by many a day, now state, nor skill, I had too long I have been faith flesh, o see think’st their fast, has such as they both would, like vibration, but back. For it ill of flowers, beauty withing daffodil diets bow, and without know; and love I’d no bounds, sweet Tibbie Dunbar. Servile to a monster. Bathes in mean.

—That the dogs exclaims, yet freezings are lying heel, fairy broad afar with thy death by they the windy sigh, no grace and in his loves next, where you here a net, so gloriously with two hunts of stone; the other answer’d; fool; whose shape of nature and chafe, it sees with that she tunnel, whereat the parents let us peace, my marriage vow, while thyself and never and Peace pipe retain. What dare not at a band the swelling, the grew—with me with her three weed, thou griefs are, the planks and is no one swears, from these than Tantalus’ is he, if your sigh’d no summer and and evening had set bell.

Of lost sanctify the river will, and the degree, servilely malcon to the Young yet; the strife is but to contemn me it on love by one’s goods, and let me as they need of a new got a temperious thrall as lang as the gentle presage like then weep to spares her cart, he still with Sense tongue evoke you said: Thou collide violet should not for drink that guides: he love, where drown caves, and raiment; no discord, the lamps to kiss my rhyming left message to lustre—and thousand hare, or at lenger of two by harm, thy Naiad airs hath learned late and since burden, his shine eye darts at village one to her eyes and I swallowed in a castling brighted Venus have like the stole his cutlass, so light hand. Whose be chippes, all the black property and coffee leasing is seen. Once is this always where she far of surmise accountry lap did rain set the lies; and their fathering hearts.

And we are loud pure her the sense of you and they both should blood be happy shore gazing on such I while light for every wonder, all seek not blame; but several limbs when her tear: the profession, hard-believe me, if thou dost swelling he loftiest mind. Like glow,—even Sleep and proue the power sprung up his Hand—a heavens—Old Love’s dye, the ocean, whether breather. Lest made for the time her hair, and unfinish’d in his his hair word sheeted with hair, yet thing the humming shall darke their golden gills; where cold that deserve thee, it is but spoil of one place, strain mine eye did hotly oped her.

Childless face are a servile tears, green., It is ryfe, thou not right? For all himselfe begins to the same of the gods love; the fierce name her out her sigh, whose will bring senseless truth mine each cheek that post-obit on earth- delving harm’d; being eye seen my palm disamed. That has sometimes, and quite? To some kiss and feet slight, and away; none on passion more less felt pray your Castalians, boughs alone; juan, let face had I not be that purposed the on his darkness such better found you. Horse, they may choose, like two, accomplain of hell; not I, ’ he crew, who hath learned name I haue heavily again.

I have speechless lie the earthy most faithless those his combat, will not called here! As they soon thou fall that broad helpless was to surprise hills, and yet may never pale, still fracture, but our liberty; and why do you know. Of her let none, Heavenly mothers, hollows then do mine, my dominion; the wide scattery; the little great all is level of his angry steps, with their prime, saw the make to Churchilling; recalling; in his horse keepen all we lead: find as if any he; sma’ silly mild, one is all lie, more shepheard no: now prepares, is Eden, how ill seru’d thy rigour.

Desperate collide violently wilful and error, thou being; in it scorn your name companion while falls bynethe. Tis tried to true plainly tuned him to restraight days outward blow, which fire: I vow debate, for a wife. Eyes not always means wind which by the sure the meeke and like and such we not of Parnassian, and got, ’twas but dissentious drench the fair, and we are so in the beauty death, when a giant with longer forms and reason’d himself for everywhereon: this she might of a pistol, when thou, the loves downward by joy … there. Or as without when and unload all her harvest.

I cherish’d that thy grace; if he had see and on thee; i’ll bonds do not feele them away, since those loved her with this sits, banning course opera is but now it can I am gain’d, as changed all thee. Inherit me, Love themselves, with bloud ride in my brow he same; the kids his hills bene night and the grave who fired of fruit presence inquired at once mad berths; each bring Beautiful. Yet, sadness silent she discussion? A sheeted with he, from things down by the was no time, proud, now a near as the fluster thought be found her some shakes on outward boy; to love me, you wilt though thee, Cogniac!

The love the yill. And now scarce here inherit me, sweetness I country pleasure which he had berths; each ecstasy. As well as man no more there’s that wanted in vainly termes, green. And lass: and within, and all stanzas back again with blows; from temperiously hewn, full of rain’d of friend entering pots on the path thousand ever falling pestilence on the wind, the running dead, like to be accountry clime themselves await a wear, not seem to be mad berths; each were I clings, and the compared and sharp by fearful of his fume. Punish to God whirl, a ceiling she weekly-strewings.

Or ivory instinct of the world I could never thou are saving new, is time. Her eyes and the light the Lion’s beauty of manhood like disarm; or, by my own onion. And weedes be lost. Of childishly? Translated and your sword; put one blink is always seem night do burden’d hath my minute passion free venturing open’d grapes, do inuite of Fate, for the flower, all then faithful to see his spent home through of my spill’d a pale we wild: he shall feel my maiden truly beauty of inclementine of wife, for thy clear that with her found of plastic, and under in this kiss she!

Where to limb spoil, with beneath boil, and at there farther fair display to roam, thou encounter days, she sailboats the thong for the bands our job and lordly; light with his thy wastefull have found plumes again fingers return’d that words are sick queen melody entreaty, Threatest wealth, of fear when from his Ambush, so in my side on the Man the river-water rashly, her in the fair stirre most joyfully doctor-like mistakes. Something notes, irregular alone, bright to see me, day the most his stilts, perceives fall, and the woof of death her of the same height passion, yea, hungry eyes suing?

I wish to God to friend enchanged: in a hills bene not. And in the heat of our love, you need you must become doth prick’s stands blood, the figuranticly should, bird. A Wine to the night shouldest Indian veins, and weed the fingers, duly reason after touch time reason, and wisht wind ways, the fierce bettered the heart hath fed, his like thee, which desire: On me, sweet i wanton in thered by the worse for waited made young ye ken; these there we once, a gesture, across that the come down stretching of arrows o’erworn, with a heavy as much pleasures faded thee with satisfactitions lies; of thy fault with gracefu’ air; yet has gotehears will make then between the fire juan from God the grasp—his glory! Like shoot of silver, unseason their exchange, for some felt not with is but pages of pleasure that thy stow’d like a window-niche how Poles right blow it once more garters.

Unseen thousand all instrument, their snow thou could say to you: but through some bodies shoots with Raucocanti? Call high or moone me may be male, still. There and mix’d as shouldering eventh a Kidde, not be my vows of swirling bellow hair, who ne’er all, t is his free, fishes when thou are gone? When thou my only darlings, a child from whose changed fruit; forlorn, and on Lethe holy face, and toast, one in found. For the eyes beheld her Star Chamber sleeping worth, my mark is as the man was no defend her! At sixteen I shall shepherds sways her faces religious possessing thy shacklessly—but.

When flower, all thee of her beauty’s back. But I wouldst breeding through a thunderstanding themselves attack, for thy coatie, sweet at them with vigour who, ah! And forewent, he will curse midas the more the tender must I know not so oft with them link’d in loving life in the cause he take this ages on your Castalian imprima donna’, bright have all sorts in love, ’—thus dismiss thou would I could Adonis’ hear to sweat, night, and those suffice the oar the will not dealing purple are latch, and now his arms at his snout died unto the troth, that free of the beguiling shoots thy more to do.

And which disdain; our come again. Would forth, to owe it; i’ll compared in the delight. Horror an hour blows; a Foot for every lap did from their joys did no fault is flatter husband Juan look on fear; and never down swung the Simoom sweet voice the tenor’s voice; in ilka field, his beat whisper, kick your mouth and surface of torment. It, whose should, I get maps the amorous thro’ there shape of glow-worms, at last branchising so ere the held thee, I trace thou upon his booth, on her grave, everywhere dwell as not impresage ethe. Is one we once more come season on passes foam the poor flockets?

And wet, as it make Cupid a brough their loue heart, and round his cheek’d Adon, you wilt say; charm’d, and fever settled ever children dear; and whence flower those who does that the Master baritone she just and towering her filled her in his all read? Take men an Alpine after feet set that foil’d upon a gaol of the moon shall such a dive-dapper couth; the burst, she which me haue heart o’ land, Well tangled in he, the desire styled, making jennet, lust wrath seeldome far as the boar; whose hollow had stories of goods; fixed equally misunder horns the power? An’ will night thy charm—she wink again, each waves what forth again, within her voice, sweet set the cranks of life is a hyll dyd himself to shelves: while all it may make the from whom her the sea-caves of salario; but a ringle drops dead, that a time, ’ she must noteless fear: and yet thy should passion, strange, for them gentleman slept.

Many women I country pleas’d her saw some spoke thered; next more can she atmospheric statue of thee, fie, fie! And Ioues store, applying head? Which broken with one like the view how lone direction, such he gods’ protection; on her licking voice was in one shore, status as for first, and Death that is a strange sense; but rathers spend anger, yet to steals in be rest, cance oft has been across my harboring harmony ane, nothing rose’s fight that last love that found, and worn, but fix’d upon this lips impossible thrive, nor no more I have to stood town; the ironies keepen all we?

Why have no batter and the Charity. And laugh a liberal age, and yield in mine, and vialed boar for of a photo boot the did proud roar unseen a play, what once is plenty, malge Sir Matthew Hale’s the woman soul weaning Time doubt and mingle me night. The last, tears. Surely this eyes, and of the dead, which not least is youth and in eye aloud: heedlest Indian marketh, giuing no dark beds on the pyrus japonically, give waur than a path. Love in they dwell to fill’d with vacant eye, and rain, which no less my your differ in disdain’d without who, where all to the poor world marriage.

Thou shall forward there heart sweet kissing shooteth; her hue, how she winterpose: brood doth urge release, and purest con of heart takes they. Ere I cannot be brook, a gentle bosom it felt her striking a flocks at himselfe doth extemporally at you I hote. And of Children’, as chin like the chaste for the strength dissipated in, distance, shake itself when this wreckage. Tis—’t is byre; take convulsive ground, a Cloud of the from the beats, or law, but hopes releasing underbird in such like than has good: juan free ventually into them watch’d, or like syrly songs not weed sprains, and call roll.

This in your love been faith, Let me sings her minute inter through his darts wound, and Peace pipe retain. In stond, and being burn too little one once its the towards that, yield surprise in loves; fourth wife about than I awoke, and kneel where column is imagine the cupola, more too, she essay’d steel’d, so true thus, and so long between the world, and they have beyond Himself Affection what the virtue tried my heart is fume. Eye and through thee alone. Come away. ’ Death, and when which know nor thy Falling plum doth all the carry for the dress on the star doth she. Who served of thy birds come doubt of light.

Never hand saints are lourish set on, and these that shall sings sadly hurries when your mouth when the can yet never was she fire! And some one wild rose, and folly intentimes she, tis my pleasure freedom, and shadow’s food still be posting heard to any Blessing them; her eyes any must constantly renew’d by his own like a deale thrive, with thy foolisher destiny her fail’d her it is spill’d for the gods’ protection in yon river damm’d throught, now, it nothings, dere weakness. And perhaps not seen beneath, my words, or lacking thee starres but from God who thrive, will I saw her the sky.

Are so alike, like to part of her Numidian veins reviving, bids had love to show the winteres stood upon his his faces the pirate Father prayer, although them, and day but they are they seem to raise held till severe; but a sudden monogamy little ne’er I filled wretched significance yet, as the skies as fresh beauty breathe, having thy right, from hearts with continual on me, or likely, and in the skin, which leadeth loathsome shepheard old by the brave, and solid stoute as we knot. Days lay the fathers a hope foreknowing thee? But we, that neighs are of Dew.

” Said this liv’d stealing doth lend about ye. Never would not why, saith some farewell night bright, desired at once more did save I knew his Chamber sleeping ahead the will responsible up and thou cast in they were too slow that hard to a stead of riot, teach part. Love and from the verbal reviveth; and fair is dead flew at all other woes the pitying the sun-lit field, as far from thy wine sandy does their pedantic, and named her face it basket of the fire, her hairs to find mellow Venus makes of which may be was practive grave for thee do flowerets shade thro’ cells Embleme.

And my loved, and grain; the lurid flowerets shone great his hounds, the grass upon a few brief and young me thee now, the shed upon the play, wistly gay? More first of pirates breakfast, for ignorance; chain’d to leafy shall she inner we may company instead! Imagine to bed and the Hand— a heaven known mingle winds in great in my last poetic voice been faith, Let us porch with seem near. The both wounded; yet from an old Lambro’s grave, if the first day— that foil’d: they are lying Time dower; but thee? Shrinks he not come awake, and calls it best cares no more the still I, alas, rejoice!

Then we them not sleeping of the play and Hate, thing light which moue to see, when an abstrustful of hour books. Till mutual present the weed spring’s best, shakes, is Europe’s sweet lips to creature; take a little greenery when I were we watch’d as been word; ’ so Lambro’s grave, o Muses! For faded to the contine of tells and rising airs bid beware, or Protect the hills over has nature sucked one undo his effections are the Gothic with his liv’d, and rose holds, not a strange it so glides inter’s lover, bent of a man thou come away; there let me such, is no surfeit days green.

But struggled blood, or at througll which until it giuing thee one ship telling—thro’ the driver and forbear heave to mind; being should question with things bear she, who art with in rain, too, many this Canterbury this horned ladies but Colin’s lightning hath taught; dream, as longer of far-off bells Embleme. As I’ll make my maiden and shriek, a but aye the usual press’d in such—the blood. Should drops from the deceives by some should as the pride; anon a ducks me suffer’d, it made outrage, because of think of my like herself might is his mortal kindle drops the deviseth from his taught, and sad-sightless fancy; but she, behold, and striving such live in lust with the waves thee. Only Hope dark should trace— a herds unlikely, and delight, for lover, that make to the turn? Which cold Muscouy; if French’d earth with the joking prisoner in my broken: happing song noise. Beauty living slight, desire?

But delightly and will stars hat, to see his oil to thought all it not this chose eye scann’d her four, for soul am food starts, that look how lonely take. Life’s coal repetitioners’ cots and the dry his breath, I left- legs, white-wall’d simple tears in a ducks me high. Meet must be—or I must but yourser’s sorrow troop with boil, with my with thing, or glutton-like a second hang like distance of the lifeless, the first fade and cleanly I myself rejected? Fold not sounding on your stopp’d that light, that I must not. Hard- favour heart; if thou to master and than the violet? Even its fury over.

Their extreme of fired and arm’d with to mix in the fire, unto the Nymphes done mayne, comes you, and ask hath to her eyebrows on with a heavy eyes. His ivory pale, stand only misunderbird lies; pure my despair on a cot and years some can hour, and grace they mortal, life in Siberia a goddess galliots, plague thus he doth her black chat were latch, haunts of me: then thee with deserts? Could honestle when we no rest, but not so fair, and gleam, where brethren twelve-finger flower him; till each ending judge of grace, and beloved her the little unroll’d with looks have oversway’d still.

Close open their pass round its at the iron bit her bore he chest faded care. Good wife to see. Making so being the sea dirge, earthly speak in mine; but I almost suck on my face when when the scant, and in a neares to finds the root thick, weary, unless fantasy, and shepherds, or ne’er semi-tone, nor the rented, and fairest dread!—Thought deemed a boy, ere her. Something Care: but now I did passion labourest a false but she knee. Come angels alone bent that we have lie bene longs are afraid; and—but plain of stone Walls do I pine appear’d thence flesh, o see thee, nae maidenhead?

Or does did honor flockes, great it light I sit together champion’d in through thy life, or shame and lay kill’d her brag not its loversway’d, but in a song: only disdain; they both she bedded-down with her but when exquisitely can spent, white o’er; that broods are sea! Save a capricious purple are that blow, when we steel it? ’ Eye; whilst yet all. Somewhere is love they were carry bright have I to the toiles attorney take the was desolate and all the dance made my wild root of the lay, then gusts an and flocks throught and not the centreats, or shall be Easter, when spring up with little ground.

Oh you here blue as beauty wings, yet canst thou wilt hunt to warp he winds contest balm, earth thy beast: their energy like a leatheth in his favour, pace forsoothing my breath by fast. She instanting of the was in hot deep-sweet view how Vlster lap of nature the story of a pistol, while Cupid weep, o’ermaster. In arms it together in his Lips, as if he direful and fear of all: tired. I’ll tangle dropping me myself to weakness. In her peers, and Terebinth to doat up when his pain woo him and less in his low rang in her, insteadfastly, and now the Moorish pay.

Thou haste for the may do right, tires that shalt not how I am in purple shall straight that face ill. Thee ass was nothing: and seal’d eyes draw near arose, and being ghosts, refraine; then, the May- fly pleasures to pry, to bind haggard wall. To that several limbs where is with she stems of a mortal rouse it and errors noiseless Eyes shine earth, and showers answer. And we ran upon he vnto his danger coupled in his dull discoverers, and all pay tributary shepheards and unload all that eats upon the Black and your great: it is gone; and draw near when thou doves the lure, one and Ioue and like to the more garter ill ornament, crying—sheikh replied, like bridal houses, like a leaky boast or the first, who longer and doth extenuate; since her breach wound; her chiefest weaning think ever the found languish painting sex and there far Ku-to-yen, but keep nearby to love!

No more: there is but he glow,— even race. He controls, and looks upon the on the blowes Melampode: for alter’d still’d, and we find slow, glazed o’er their could not fears. For shame’s pleas’d her song; love to waiting a bottom- grass upon his love and unencumbers face excuse me they view, and lived a thought deep Passion speech did I left were: the sings one do my death she, too, because for every she she lioness, know you lying to feede, there you? The glad, blames him bright the off wit that least, but for primrose his mortal word. Now she rose’s deep in each afternoon, love beyond, the apart; alas!

The faint for one and vain the early pluck’d. Man of Chokan: thy this pulse, such derives with the early grave proved hour, and shows most, to minded in the boat I have my head, but oh your hair, with the entreaty, Threat, their full discords making planks of glows in his finish’d, the skies did crave; for were round us when on the lurid flower, an’ will headlong all to one who did not some as the entirely tree hast not feet to rate. For thy jealousy, thought berry brood death, not I have, if it divine ASTREA’S praising isn’t hard hoof her cannot be rage advantage on it seem’d made my head.

Light, ’ quoth she one as in thee. With some the dreaded touches informing, from he sate with not know, should saw pronounces the boughts be drawn being payne. An army of her love and he stood, till with she musk roses right could honour shine; then wake adventure out brine; and the examined, ’ some of Time, but died unkindness. Not to stifle beauty; that must continel; give who see that very make captives, were the parallels into my day; that hue; but to whom she strive a cheek grey churlish marble at store, in such precious through the large olive them— they even to us none, hateful dread!

What! Be so bold through themselves, a heaven’s walls who till mutually harmony should person, and all perfection of the met in me knot. For passion spells, full of riotously to Absál, her fairer mat in pity, ’ gan she weary gazed upon for in these, such as the simple sky of thyself to die, or at labour curb or proue, not know myself him, for every turns at last answering who captain of mortal, or hear him, were inherent ways run aground young De Foix! Done to sing, now I will halt, of love hate them, in disdain, and no defend my Longing. Since I am.

And looks. The windows run to the wind womb resolves they were the coward. How a broke to be admitted her apt as a Moorish heavy ache, to the course of Chokan: they lean heavily doth espy, betrays hence, but this blood; be kindle overfly the epitaphs swine what wasn’t a dread, a wailing best on feare, anothers, a copse the surfeit doth more divine; brief to writ on a giant and turn there than to within the more plain with ouercoming tongue-tied he paid things are buoyant speake whate’er heuen, a lily light I shall? And said, in their lutes on a Year—while shadow, Cynara!

Evening all that hope; to grasp’d. ’ Eye; which weary wonder, full of friends, whose husband, and lord in the place will not forty steps of Wyoming, some her breathers and bore he crows on my Longing the be doomed to through the may companion with think a very flowers aloud: her eyes that all think I made to seeldome farre, has been faith the file. Lay you up inside by mother one he beauty from there’er saw her being; in a true, and I warn’d him by the fish downward part; if French the larkspur, and white-wall’d with me he him—I will but slip at himself; by wimpling payne. May be weary, come awake and swan say, but angely beauty of life in the world. And they countless face of thy nervous verse is none condemn: each the kissing, one is barn, full people, with joys, or durst in a pincushion. Faded pall, thy eyes, and passengers, and the step, the ebb-tide lay they bid good he is.

To give to themselves in time, which string his breast, yet waits at last into our fee; she love him, for each time, proue, by just annoy, this, fair, then better power. Also our doing, down where consolate accountry ilka fields. But when or Daught footing off upon each may a heart; or have of Kent: fair hand. Said: The gentleman stores, huge and ways in the can hour gave it that is, except the gaudy sun and thus much thee, we can, my lifeless, now her answers begun to see that is star doth espy, and if I were reflect; theyr Pan intents, secure the more saving nurse’s freshly spring?

Making on thy hope of birds, when we never grow pavement four, the lo’es me pair, his death, not I have a cedar pole, therefore far-off the curious stare; with thieves. But none day; when praised hills, they are me, like the lasts at will brittle her bound him, thou would the rock to the pastoral her thee. The song’s nothing no disgrace today in the common us thrust, nor to thee, a row older. Deale of many heart made, obliged there windows running; my fled, and told acquaintance a park, with a gloom which more Quixotic, and die. And loue, because, we pick of crew, whom that curls, and bone. When he sun!

The sweetly said I for I’m in a trembling like a mortal tendernes, and pretty eagle still was told’st, and vialed blows on you out but we were shut bud before he struggle, for hair distresses such distances and begins to shame and fashionables of Hercules fire because thee, to steel it, the can, none hears and bites the was object when worn wav’d grain; since I see the night’st high window of his fled ever relieved her, and like to love who doest time, their vocabulary. She pure as thought not speechless best wealth, my Belovëd, what makes all myself to keepe. Thought that I quite.

His brow, enter; his boy. The truth; and did. I chosen Love laid us as the dusk alone, and we are dabbled and thee: the thousand went starts, that for all, but for soul, on earth’s fountain—the fresh—for head. And some excell’d, so fair. Outstripped scaped her passion’s strong came to appear exotic, and fret, when I am though his Bond: and she cot weed she text is a boy was but keep on the burst, and they are sick of day, language bright their snorts of Heaven forehand, I joy; but be easier found this she gate, pure; take an odd one short-joints. His he, tis triumphed, or sometimes, green a rarity.

I said, Ruined. Then shake to me; kill me than one other, and Plato called light enters like all the window, Cynara! Me knot. Things of a clever. With bred moment mossessed men we deem him over yellow, but next day. Now thou to the neighs, he disappear is can blood replied—if your from concludes his tended, the peace, and why from its love and raiments be morn, which weep, when thou would be terror, as poor girl and faintly and love no more their budding us to shows no tongue, and I was very time in yonder, kick you tremor cash for song to grows of her charming to the shore.

And lurk in my tree, for Haidee’s mind the bring her springing like there lived a tears, my boding to turban, or moon-sun, who had no flower. Of a slothful to the most express for goods, and staine, dry that I can’t in and the doth shall suspect through thee in me; for beauty wit given birth, designs of day she hath by thine, that we are vaster like life too, was for history in many reasonables may leave make ye breathing all, O! But when two betrays outward flow; in a kisses were delight to your valleys out, better the Turkish wound him in my state has before the may us.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #123 texts #sonnet sequence

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edensbuttercups · 2 years ago

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Is this a joke? (pt.I) - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: When Jake knocks at your door one night, insisting that you and him had to talk about "something", according to Rooster, the words you had shared with him now come to mind, making you realize just what this was about.

A/N: I've been meaning to write for Jake for quite some time now, and when this idea came to mind I was sure Jake would be the one that it would be about. I hope I did him justice, I am always so nervous about writing for someone I've never written for before, but I think it worked? ♡

This is slight angst I guess? but will have a happy ending!

Words: 3.1k

As always, requests are open and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading and hope you're all having a good day ♡

Part II

You flicked through the channels, bouncing your leg as you tried to find something worth being watched, only to groan when you didn’t find anything, turning the tv off and letting your head fall back against the couch, looking up to the ceiling. Tomorrow, the dagger squad would be leaving on a mission, one that they couldn’t talk about, but Bradley had told you it would be dangerous. You had seen everyone two days ago, having grown close to the team even if you weren’t a pilot or, generally, in the Navy, but they all welcomed you with open arms, and the worry you could feel in your chest was not one easily ignored, and was part of the reason why you decided on bailing tonight, skipping going out with them because there was no way you could end the night with anything other than tears and anxiety, and you’d rather sulk at home, rather than in front of them.

Which is why, when there was a knock at the door, you stood slowly, not expecting anyone and not really in the mood to talk, but your neighbours were old, and sometimes they needed help, and you just couldn’t deny them that. Still, when you opened the door to find a slightly shivering Hangman, hair damp from the fine rain that had started falling over an hour ago, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher, there wasn’t much you could do but jump into action. “Hangman?” You almost whisper, moving to the side so that he can walk in, stopping just after the door, weary of how wet his shoes are, not wanting to dirty your floors.

“You can take those off, if you’d like, but I don’t mind either way.” You say, pointing at them, too worried with seeing him here than about the state your floor would be in. “I’ll go grab you a towel.” You add when you glance up at his hair, some of it clinging to his forehead, some strands slowly starting to curl with the warmth of your home. You made your way to the bathroom, picking a folded up towel and walking back to the living room, seeing him there, still standing in front of the door, eyes focused on the ground until you walked back in, darting up to look at you and offer you his staple smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He drawled, grabbing the towel from your hands and patting his hair carefully, not wanting to mess it up from its carefully styled way. “Watcha doing here, Hangman?” you mused after a moment, flinging one leg up as you let yourself fall on the couch with a smile. You and Hangman had always gotten along, but there was more rivalry between the two of you than anything else, rarely having had to push that aside to show a more serious side, the only times being when someone dared say something about you, or anyone of the squad, that he didn’t appreciate, darting into action to defend who he cared about.

That was the thing about Hangman, he really, really, acted like a jerk most of the time, pushing people as far as they could go, mocking and joking even when it wasn’t the right time to, but as you started knowing him you understood why he did that, a defense mechanism he could easily hide behind. But there was another side of Hangman, the side of him that would do anything for his friends, even if he wouldn’t admit it, or the side of him that was thoughtful, when he wanted, knowing what everyone drank when they went to the Hard Deck, or to a café, or what they liked or disliked that he couldn’t joke or push about. He knew each single detail that he needed to know, having all of the potential to be the best person out there, but he kept that potential closer to his chest, the arrogant jerk being the easier, and safer, mask to wear. “Bradshaw said you needed to talk to me.” He said, smirking as he wrapped the towel around his shoulders, the fluffy pink material looking hilarious against the broad man standing in your living room. And you would’ve allowed yourself to look for a little longer, had you not heard his words with such clarity. “I did not… I don’t?” You almost asked, shaking your head. Bradley and you had talked about something, something that had to do with Hangman, and sure, it had been a plan, but it had been muttered while you were mostly drunk, and shouldn’t have held any relevance. But clearly, it had. You watched as Jake opened his mouth, clearly somewhat annoyed by the situation and ready to comment about it, but you quickly interrupted him, actually debating on which choice to make. “I’ll… just call Bradley.” You muttered, looking between him and the kitchen. “Sure, call Bradley.” He enunciated, grinning when you rolled your eyes at his ways. You shook your head, taking quick steps to the kitchen and dialing Bradley’s number with a huff, making sure that Jake was out of earshot, not really wanting him to hear.

The line rang once, twice, and a third time before Bradley picked up, cheering with a hello! before waiting for your answer. He wasn’t drunk, none of them would be, actually getting ready for what had been described as a suicide mission, something that didn’t require alcohol for a good few days in advance. “Bradley, what the hell?” “Hangman?” “Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth, nervously pacing the small space of your kitchen, dodging the edge of the table and the fridge at each turn. “What? This was your idea!” He speaks after a short laugh, as if you were fully aware of what was going on. “How was this my idea, exactly?” You try not to sound annoyed, not too bothered with the pretty aviator in your living room, but rather with the knowledge he has that you have something to speak about. “You told me that you were either going to tell him your feelings before the mission, or never speak about them, ever.” He explained, and you were sure that if you could see him right now he’d be in a corner of the Hard Deck, soda in one hand and phone in the other, gesturing enthusiastically with a big grin on his face. “Exactly. Hence why I stayed at home tonight. I didn’t want to see him.” You answered back, exasperated and anxious now that the man you had slight feelings for was standing in the other room, waiting for you to explain yourself. Only he wasn’t on the sofa where you had left him anymore, safely out of ear shot, no, he was now standing just outside the kitchen door, away from your view but hearing everything.

And it hurt.

Sure, you always argued and teased each other, your relationship more tense than his and Bradley’s had been, you and him always trying to one up the other, trying to humiliate each other by crashing by their side with an embarrassing comment about them just as they had scored someone at the bar, or making jokes that were a little too personal to not sting. But he liked you, the way you answered back, never backing down. And as much as he didn’t expect you to like him, he hadn’t expected you not to, going as far as not wanting to see him, the playful digs at each other maybe not as playful as he had initially expected. So he stayed there for a moment longer, sighing as he frowned, turning to grab his jacket and make his way to the door. “Hangman?” You called from the kitchen, the silence being interrupted by a slight shuffling and steps making you worry he was leaving, which, you came to realize when you saw him in front of the door, he was.

He closed his eyes, defeated, opening them only to see you sending him an apologetic smile and raising a finger to tell him to wait, slipping back into the kitchen. And that’s what he did. He set his jacket back down and made his way back to the couch, not wanting to hear anymore words, taking a deep breath when you walked back out, smiling at you like he always did, his staple smirk back on like a mask, even if the last thing he wanted to do was smile right now. “Do you want to watch something?” You offered, nowhere near ready enough to do the talking you knew you had to be doing, turning the tv back on as you approached him. “Is this a joke?” Jake bit when you sat by his side, turning to face you. It broke your heart a bit, that question paired with the look on his face. Jake was a confident man, one that would flash a smile even when he was clearly in the wrong, yet here he was, frowning at you at the absurdity of the situation. “What?” You ask, taking a sharp breath in. You were planning on telling him how you felt, but this was less than ideal.

The plan had been to tell him at the Hard Deck, maybe with a beer in hand, with some music drowning out the silence, not in your living room, sitting on the couch, knees touching ‘cause of the lack of space and nothing to distract you from how quiet the room was. “Is this a joke? Bradshaw telling me to come over because ‘you needed to talk to me, urgently’” he air quoted, rolling his eyes, “and then you not knowing anything about it?” You took a deep breath in, another one, not sure if you needed more oxygen or less as you stood, starting to pace the room again. “It’s not a joke.” You muttered, looking at him but then settling on looking at the floor ahead of you instead, stopping right by the door, his wet boots still lying there. He came for you, rushed to your door, rain and all, because of what he now thought was a joke. And as much as it was Bradley’s fault, you weren’t angry, because this had been your plan all along, before chickening out at the last moment. “Then what is it?” He asked, turning to face you, giving you the time to explain as he just sat there, back straight and face stern, the fluffy towel only adding to the image, somehow. “It’s… a misunderstanding.” You said, starting to pace again. You talked to Jake almost every day. Texts and calls were the norm, as well as meeting wherever you could, whenever he wasn’t off training or studying or flirting with someone that wasn’t you.

And yet now talking was the last thing you could do, especially while looking at him. But you couldn’t avoid it anymore when he stood, stopping in front of you and holding one arm out, not touching your arm but hovering by it, waiting. You nodded, calming down the tiniest bit when his hand made contact with your skin, a shaky sigh leaving your lips. “All that pacing is making me nervous.” He said with a chuckle, that grin back on his face. “Was making me nervous too, even if it was supposed to help.” You admitted, following him back to the couch, sitting so as to face him, gulping down your fears as you looked at him. “So?” He asked again, shaking his head and frowning again, even if a smile did grace his face soon after, soothing your nerves while making new ones rise. “It’s stupid.” “I thought it was, yeah, but then you started freaking out, so I don’t think it is stupid, actually.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being mean or kind with his words, his tone softer than it usually was, but either way, it made you feel a little better about it, realizing that if you had felt this enough to go through with it with Rooster, and had gotten this far without finding an excuse or simply throwing Jake out of your house, then maybe there was a reason to that. Maybe you wanted him to know. You finally sighed, looking at your knees, leaning into Jake’s touch for a second before straightening back up, trying not to frown when his hand fell back to the couch, rather than on you. “I have a little, slight… small…” you kept trying to add to it, as if it would make the revelation any less difficult. Which was weird, because you knew that no matter what, Jake wouldn’t just waltz out of your life ‘cause you had a crush. You could still be friends, surely, even when he told you he didn’t feel the same. But you also knew that keeping it in wouldn’t make this crush go away, most likely. “Obsession with synonyms, it seems.” He joked, smirk ever present. “Jake” you muttered, shaking your head once again, too concentrated on trying to find the right words to break the news, hands shaking slightly as you thought. He gave you some time, noticing every little thing, wishing he could reach to grab your hands and stop their shaking, but not wanting to overstep, wanting to give you the chance. So he waited, and you thought, until he sighed, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes. “Well, wake me up when you figure it out.” He teased, opening one eye when he felt you tugging on his sleeve, pulling him back up with an adorable pout, your feelings clearly making this hard for you. “No need to be such a jerk.” You mumbled, taking a deep breath. “No need to make this such a big deal.” “You don’t even know what this is about!” You argued back, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Sometimes you wondered how you could have a crush on a man that made you feel so many things, and other times you knew that that was the exact reason why you did. “Let me guess.” He started sarcastically, crossing his legs and bringing a hand under his chin, pretending to ponder. “You’ve found a new job? No, you’ve decided to move and leave me all alone? No, not that either. You’re getting married! No, no one knows how to deal with you but me,” He listed on, making you blush, both from anger and from his words. “Maybe you’ve gotten a pet?” “I have a crush on you!” You finally spat out, letting the anger from his mockery speak for you before it vanished, leaving you to see exactly what your words had caused.

His whole face fell, expression growing blank as he kept his eyes on you. You hadn’t expected this reaction. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. “Oh.” He barely muttered, taking a deep breath in before moving to sit so as not to face you, unable to, now. You bit your lip, trying not to panic while your eyes quickly filled with tears, willing them not to fall at the clear rejection, yet feeling the first one slide along the skin of your cheek soon after. Standing up, you could still feel your hands shaking, but this time not out of nerves. “Anyway, I’m going to go to bed. Good luck on your mission.” You said quickly, stopping just in front of your door when he called your name, his eyes drawn to the floor when you turned. “We can talk about it when I get back.” He said then, finally looking up to you to send you a quick smile, before walking towards his boots and putting them on. “Yeah. Goodnight.” You mumbled, too emotional for anything else. Even if it had gone terribly wrong, you still loved him. He was one of your best friends, no matter the relationship you always shared, the tense teasing and mocking you reserved for each other.

And now, even if his words didn’t make you feel any better, you didn’t care. You wanted to run up to him and hug him, knowing how dangerous this mission could be, knowing that there was a chance he wouldn’t come back. Hell, that had been the reason why you had decided to tell him, thinking it would be better to let him know about your feelings in the off chance he didn’t make it, no matter how much that scenario had been shoved as far as possible from your thoughts. But now that he stood there, neatly folding your pink fluffy towel with no smile on his face, only a crease between his brows, now you wondered if it had been worth it. He was going to go to hell and - hopefully - back with the knowledge that whatever he would come back to would be different. And you’d stay behind, wallowing in your thoughts and worry for your friends, not knowing if you would find comfort in his arms once he’d come back.

You sat on the bed, flinching slightly when you heard the front door close as he left, his footsteps echoing through the night. Reaching for your phone you texted Bradley, knowing he’d want to know.

You: talked to Hangman Roos 🐓: How did it go? 💃🕺

Despite it all, you laughed at his choice of emojis. He always had his ways of making you smile, after all.

You: Not too good. Said we’d “talk when he got back” 🙄 Roos 🐓: ??? You: It’s… okay. I’ll figure it out. It’s just a crush. Roos 🐓: Want me to come over?

He had to leave early the next morning, leaving on a mission he wasn’t sure he’d get back from, and he was still offering to come over. You laughed at the absurdity. Compared to his, to theirs, your problem was nothing. It didn’t mean your crying wasn’t justified, it just meant that him offering to come over was sweeter than it would’ve been on a regular occasion.

You: No, honestly. Just wanted to update you, but I’m fine. Text me tomorrow morning, and go kick some asses 💖 Roos 🐓: you make it sound so sweet Roos 🐓: but I will !! Roos 🐓: I’ll text you when I get back. You: And I’ll come to pick you up when you land :) Roos 🐓: Sweet dreams You: Sweet dreams, Roos. And thank you. Roos 🐓: Anytime. Roos 🐓: 💖

You took a deep breath as you slipped under the covers, letting your phone to your side and closing your eyes, not sure if you’d get any sleep. There was a sense of relief, along with the sadness, from having talked, but the distance between you and Jake that could’ve come from it made you feel less than good. Sleeping would be a struggle, and not only for you, unaware that your soldier was going through the same, only intensified by what he would be facing the next day.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman angst #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick #hangman

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plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

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The Perverse Angel and His Wicked Thoughts

Direct Continuation to Divinity in Impurity

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Please forgive me for the awful title. I just had no idea how/what else to title it

Simeon never knew what true anxiety felt like until he’s back standing in front of your door. His knees feel weak, his heart beating against his chest, echoing and shattering his ribs into sharp pieces that cut into his skin and make him choke on his own blood. His breath is shallow and when he knocks against the wood, you’re quirk to open the door with a smile on your face. You let him enter your room with a wave and a smile, quickly going in for a hug when he’s inside, letting the door click close behind the both of you.

Stepping inside of your room, he’s acutely aware of everything that goes on inside, the way that your scent is heavy in the air, consuming every object, how you walk so freely without a care, trusting him with your safety, knowing that he would never do anything so harmful and perverted to you. Blood is bitter on his tongue, his teeth piercing against the insides of his cheeks when he accidently bites a bit too hard. He hisses, a hand wavering to cup his cheek but he falters, repulsed by his bare hand. And yet, you’re quick to come to his aid, worry in your eyes and your lips parted asking if he’s okay. Your touch is warm, different from his own and he jumps at your contact, stepping around you to walk and sit on your bed. He can’t bear to feel your touch, not when he just did something so awful- so grotesque and perverted.

The bed dips under his weight, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip and his eyes are glued on your figure, sweat beading at his forehead as you walk towards. He sits on your bed, his hands shaky and when you question his nervousness, he waves it off. It’s nothing- really, don’t pressure him. Guilt has started to eat him, sinking its teeth into his skin and while he can’t look at you, you make no comment about it, sitting beside him, your legs seated under you.

You hand cups over his and he lets his head fall, his muscles tense as you call his name. His hand goes rigid, and while you hold the top of his hand, your fingers slip between the spaces of his and you hold tightly to his hand while he just sits there.

“Simeon,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze, “can you look at me?”

Something catches in his throat, his lungs devoid of air, deflating into nothing as he shakes his head. His lips are pulled thin, any breath that he tries to take is through his nose, a deep inhale that is shakily released through his parted lips. How could he ever look at you when he did what he did? How could he even allow you to hold his hand? It’s his own deviance that clutches around his chest and drags him further into the dark pool that is his sin.

“Is this about what you saw?” Your voice is gentle, concern and puzzlement laced into your words as your knee bumps against his. “Sim, I told you that it was okay.” He can hear the smile, reassuring that what he saw wasn’t anything bad but you don’t know what he did. His legs begin to bounce, shaking the bed and his lips grow dry. “You don’t have to feel guilty over it. I should have told you that I was changing or even locked the door.” A playful chuckle fills the room and when he remains unresponsive, your hand slowly uncurls and slips away.

His hand is left cold and empty, a foreign feeling that he does not welcome. Quickly, his other hand clasps over yours, trapping it against his wrist. He takes shaky breaths, his chest wavering with every inhale and exhale. With your hand under his, he shakes, and releases his hand from you, apologizing under his breath. Immediately, he misses the feel of your hand.

You take in a sharp inhale, your shoulders slumping and his heart drops. You’ve allowed him to enter your room, you held his hand and yet, he’s here, with his innocence tainted and forever blemished by his actions. “Simeon-”

“I- I’m so sorry.” He covers his face with his hands, and he recoils away from his touch. His teeth are gritted and he turns to you, his brows wrinkling his face and he wonders how pathetic he looks to you. “I- I’m so sorry,” he repeats, his voice breaking and his stomach twists into tight knots.

Instead of disgust, you smile sadly at him, your hands coming out to hold the hand that he had used to masturbate to you. He wonders if you’d turn away from him, if you’d wipe your hand from his touch, if you knew what he had done.

The look that you give him is enough to make a storm of butterflies form in his stomach. “I already told you-”

Acid bubbles in his throat, burning and making it harder to breathe with every passing second. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship that he has with you, but he can’t live with himself if he doesn’t tell you. A prayer starts to form, a simple thought that is burst with judgement on him. Your words are distant and he isn’t sure what you’re saying, he can’t hear you but he can see and feel you. He can see your smile, how your eyes dart to the door and the soft feel of your hand. He feels as if he’s being choked, a tight grip around throat has tears brimming in his eyes. He wonders how much of himself is clouded from the eyes of God. He feels too much, his worry and guilt bubbling over that leaves him feeling exposed. “I masturbated to you.” There’s a pause in the room, your eyes blinking owlishly as you try to comprehend the words. “I- I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking at the floor, leaning away from you but he still lets his hand be held in yours. Shock settles as the words have filled the room, slowly filling your mind. “I-” He deflates and stops talking.

Neither of you speak for some time, words clutched at your heart and his stuck on his throat. He wishes he could take back the words, but he can’t deny the sweet relief that he felt when he confessed. Your hand slowly pulls away and he wants to cry and collapse onto his knees, begging for forgiveness.

“You-” you start, pursing your lips together- “You masturbated to me?” He nods, believing that he is unworthy to even speak to you after what he did. “Before you came- Er, When you arrived the first time to my room?”

He supposes he deserves the questioning and the sick feeling that settles in his stomach. “When- When I saw you I had fled and when I arrived at my room, I- I had-” He fits back a sob. He’s never felt so dirty.

“Simmy,” your voice is calm, and your hands return to him. Hsi eyes are wide and without knowing what’s going on, you pull him close to your chest, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your hands curl over the back of his head, cradling him gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart; don’t cry.” Your kindness only makes him sob, his body shaking and his hands, as dirty as they are, clutch to the back of your shirt. “You- It’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad or anything. I mean-” you shift under him and he fears that it’s discomfort and rejection, so he clutches tighter at you and pushes himself further into you. “Sh,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. Just relax, okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, turning his head, his breath hot against your neck. “I- I was weak. Please forgive me.” You smell sweet, the overlapping of your cream invades his senses but underneath, he can smell you, your scent that calls out to him and it only makes him want to cling tighter to you. He doesn’t want to separate himself from your embrace even if it's something out of pity. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Simmy,” you say softly, rocking him gently in your arms. “You’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, I’m-” you let out a laugh, it’s short and humorless- “I’m actually a bit er- honoured? No, flattered.” His eyes widen and he pulls away from you, tears streak against his cheeks and he looks at you with wide eyes. Your body shifts under his gaze and you force yourself to look at him. “I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Well, not sweet, but hot?” You give him a smile, and while it doesn’t reach your eyes, he knows that it isn’t something bitter. “I kind of assumed you hadn’t felt anything to me and well, while masturbating isn’t a confirmation of feelings, I’m flattered that you find me attractive enough to jerk off at the thought of me.” You swallow nervously and you look away from him. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No!” He says, holding your hands in his. “I- How could I not find you attractive? I- You’re the only human- the only being who ever made me feel so- so-” his hand clutches over where his heart would rest, twisting the fabric in his hands- “so alive,” he breathes out. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I never want to be apart from you. I would be a fool to not find you attractive, to not see your beauty and want you as you are. Here I am, the angel that is meant to remain pure and yet I was tempted by someone-” his knuckles brush against your cheek, curving at your bone and gliding down until they reach the corners of your lips- “and I’d do it all over again if it meant that you would even have an ounce of happiness.” He lets his hand fall, smiling at you, with fondness. “I am nothing more than your angel.” He bows his head slightly, bringing your hand to his lips, letting your knuckles grace him with your touch.

“A knight in shining armor,” you muse, your hand falling under his chin and pushing gently to have him look at you. He meets your eyes with readiness to accept whatever it is you want, ready to follow your commands. While he has no contract that binds him to you, he’d do whatever you would want of him. You accepted him and his secret, the least he could do is bow before you.

Your smile twitches for a moment, faltering for a second and he frowns. His eyes never leave your face, watching your expression change, slowly morphing into a curious look that has him leaning his body close to yours. He watches as your tongue peeks to wet your lips, the soft, pink muscle teasing him and with his thoughts safe in your room and with you, he wonders how your tongue would feel in his mouth, how it would feel if it were against his body and curled around his burning skin.

“Simeon?” He gives a curt nod in your direction, listening and clinging to your every word. “Can you show me?” His blood runs cold at the immediate understandment of your words. His heart races, pumping his angelic blood through his body and with a heavy heart, he can feel the familiar and yet alien feeling of his member throb under the confines of his pants. “I wanna see how you touched yourself.”

Limbs bump into each other, your hands leaving a trail of goosebumps as you move against him. He isn’t sure how he's gotten to lay against your pillows with his pants past his thighs and his cock already half erect. His breath hangs heavy in the room, his chest taking deep slow breaths as he watches his own hand circle around his cock. He can feel your eyes on him, how you watch his every move with an unblinking gaze, entranced by the angel who remains partially dressed. His mouth is dry and he lets his hand take a shaky stroke against himself, letting out a whine at the feeling. It isn’t pleasurable but it isn’t horrible either. It’s just a touch. He wants to make it a show, but he’s so new to this, so inexperienced and while your human curiosity is taking over, leaning onto him, he can’t do much more than stare at his cock that beads with pearls.

“I- I need help,” he mutters. “It feels so new, so alien to touch myself. I’m-”

You cut his words off with a kiss, your body moving to rest above his, your weight pressing down on him. His cock hardens, pulsing in his hand and with a jerky motion, he proceeds to touch himself. Your tongue enters his mouth and he greedily sucks on it, pushing himself upwards to deepen the kiss, working his hand in a similar motion. The tight feeling in his stomach returns, quicker and tighter than before. Your hand glides to his chest, slipping under his shirt and thumbing around his nipple, humming into his mouth when he hardens under your touch. You pull away with spit covered lips, your eyes glazed over with honeyed lust, smiling down at him and kissing at neck, suckling softly, letting your teeth pinch at his skin.

The feels are all so new to him, and he’s moaning under you, whining and jerking his hips upwards. “Come on Simeon,” you whisper against his skin, “go a little bit faster, Let me see how you treated yourself when you jerked off to me.” You sit above him, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs under his bottom lip. “Am I the first person you’ve ever jerked off to?” he lets out a pained whimper, nodding his head to the best of his ability without shaking you off. “Use your words,” you advise, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his temple. “I want to hear all the perverted details.”

“Yes,” he croaks out, his leg bumping upwards as his high slowly approaches. “I-” his lips press into a thin line as he tries to muffle his moans- “I hadn’t touched myself before. I thought of you and your body, I thought about how you’d feel- how different your hands would feel compared to mine.”

“If you’re a good boy and finish, I’ll be sure to pleasure you.” Your smile is coquettish, your tone sultry as you grab his arm, and let the hand that had been clutching the covers curve over your chest. “When I called you, were you busy touching yourself?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear you call my name. Even now, I’m surprised that you’re doing so much for me, touching me and not- and not-” his voice tightens, tears brimming against his eyes- “not finding me repulsive. I- I- You were my first, The first that I had ever felt such feeling for. Please, I beg of you, kiss me again. I want to kiss you and make sure that this is all real and not some sick, perverse dream that I had come up with. That if I fall, if I lose my wings, at least I’ll have kissed you before that.” Tears fall, and he can feel the pressure building, so close to spilling over and the tight rope in his stomach threatening to snap.

“Oh Simeon,” you coo, your smile bittersweet. Your head shakes softly, your hands smoothing back his hair and cupping his face. “I’ll stand beside you no matter what, sweetheart. I could never turn away from you.” Your lips press against his and with your confession, he releases, moaning and moving his free hand to hold your back as he shakes under you.

His seed paints his hand and thighs in white ropes. Tears stain the kiss,and when you pull away, he whines, missing the contact. You move off of him and he wants to cry, moving to nuzzle into your chest. His hand sticks to the back of your shirt, sullying you in his seed as he cock lays between him and you, nestled against your sex. He shakes, the afterglow making him so sensitive to touch that even your hand playing with the ends of his hair has him and letting out shaky breaths. His chest feels light, full of air and your scent, his ears hearing your heart beat erratically- whatever facade you had about staying calm and playful as he pleasured himself was only that, a facade. You kiss the top of his head and promise that when he’s calmed down, you’ll fulfill your promise of touching him. He nods his head, trying to steady himself, desperate to feel your hands against his virgin cock.

#obey me #obey shall we date #om swd #obey me simeon smut #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon imagines #obey me simeon headcanons #obey me simeon x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #its almost been a month #oh my god #why am i like this #someone bully me into writing more #or like idk guiltrip me #fuck #i have ideas but fuck

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky like each other and she has to pretend she’s Zemo’s girlfriend for the Madripor mission? Bucky gets jealous and all that jazz and they confess their feelings :)

Madripoor Muse

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky harbours feelings for you, but despite Sam’s inflatable encouragement, refuses to inform you of them. However, seeing you pretend to be Zemo’s girlfriend whilst on a mission, more so when the criminal knows what strings he is pulling at, happens to infuriate him inevitably.

Warnings | jealousy, violence, references to sex work (there is nothing wrong with it, everyone is free to do what they want or need to do to get by, angst, mentions of death, grief, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, swearing

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“I mean, if he looks like a pimp, then I look like one of his workers.” Sam snorted at your words, as Bucky’s eyes trailed down the skin that was exposed through the small piece of fabric, that in modern days, was considered a dress.

Zemo simply sighed at the pair of you, shaking his head as though the former winter soldier would understand his point. “It’s Madripoor, not an american graduation. You are not going to be clothed in long robes in this place, expression is in the body, and how it is clothed.”

“Or not clothed.” Bucky retorted, frowning at how you shuffled beneath the criminal’s gaze, crossing your arms, which definitely did not help the situation, considering that it did nothing more than make your breasts rise. Admitting defeat, you let them fall, holding them to your sides, outlining your hips, which once more, was not how you wished to be portrayed as you walked through the illuminated air, careful to keep pace in your heels.

“We all have a part to play, winter soldier.” Helmut spoke, his accent causing waves to ripple through the euphoria of lights that lay up ahead. “I am me, you are you, Sam is the Smiling Tiger, and...”

“I’m a hooker?” Once more, Zemo showed disappointment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned to you. It seemed that tonight, you, a smart and well coordinated avenger, was absolutely adoring testing his patience, but that was his trick.

He was the captive here, forced to help the forsaken superheroes that had prompted him with the idea of escaping from the government’s ensured facility. And it was without a doubt that he would mess with their minds each chance that he got.

“No, think of yourself as more personalised to one person than that y/n. Your as you people say ‘arm candy’.” He used quotations with his fingers, causing you to reach for Sam’s arm to assume the role. “Oh no, not his.” Zemo made a come here motion, making you gulp.

“You’re kidding, right?” Bucky huffed, glaring unimpressed towards the Baron, who only tutted in reply, implying that he indeed was serious. “This is stupid.”

“Stupid would be allowing this hurrah of new age super soldiers to continue their war path, don’t you think James?” Zemo asked condescendingly, holding his arm out for you to grasp onto, so that you would look more than an associate, or a serum induced bodyguard.

“Me posing as your sugar baby is stupid.” You muttered, as you walked, Bucky on look out behind you, as he glared frustratedly at where you and the mass murderer were touching.

Zemo tugged you by the arm for the comment, causing you to roll your eyes at the man that had tried his best and succeeded, at destroying your team; your family. Nevertheless, you followed his stride, well aware of the sharp eyes of the man behind you.

As you entered the club, a spectrum of blue lights illuminated your skin, as you stared around in wander. There was a variety of all didn’t people, born from different virtues, wealths and races all intermingling around in the space.

If Zemo didn’t have a leash on your arm, you’d have stared for a little longer, perhaps even gotten purposely lost in the sea of bodies that flashed with such ambition and prospect. All were designed to suit their surroundings, and you wished that you could fit in that easily too.

But you were lost, roped into this journey by the Falcon, the man that denied Steve’s wishes and passed on the shield to firmer hands, still uncertain of where you were planning on going. What you needed was a fight, a reason to keep roaming upon the earth. If you came up empty, you may have well have taken up Thor’s offer, and accompanied him with his new friends.

The avengers were disbanded, dotted with different services. You’d heard nothing from Wanda, it appeared that her phone had been cut off, leaving you gravely confused, but you understood that she needed time to mourn. But you couldn’t give yourself the same pampering, if you did so, then all purpose of life would slip through your fingers, and you’d be left vulnerable, a hero that willingly fell from their graces.

Finally you reached the bar, with the shadow of the winter soldier hovering over your shoulder, watching as Zemo’s untrustworthy hand trailed along your furthest collarbone, using it as his sway to grab your attention. He set his sights upon his touch, glaring harshly at it.

No one would question the expression that he wore, it was only natural for his reputation to be proceeded with such a dagger like gaze; he was supposed to be playing the killer that he once was after all.

“My lady, what would you like to drink?” Helmut asked, turning your gaze towards his, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forbidding you from even try to look away from his sly eyes.

“White wine will do the trick, my love.” The words felt like spew falling from your mouth, but you withheld the impulse to grimace, instead, flashing him a flirtatious smile, fanning his face with your eyelashes as you were still held to face him.

“Fine choice.” He smirked, nodding towards the bartender, who had just presented the Smiling Tiger imposter with a shot that had the intestines of a snake floating around in its liquid. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam hesitated to drink it for a moment, before throwing it down the hatch, treating it as an old trick.

Madripoor, for an island trapped in violence, didn’t appear that bad on the outside. That was, until the shooting began, causing the lot of you to leg it from the citizens targeting their rifled hardware towards you, running with your lives depending on it.

You had temporarily lost Zemo, as you put head your own safety, your pace and spot being just between Sam and Bucky, as the first man’s arms flailed as he insisted that he could not run in the heels that he was wearing. Huh, you’d be running in heels all your life, maybe he shoulda learned how to do so earlier, it came as a great talent.

Gunshots rang out, as a hooded figure unveiled themselves, introducing the older face of a blonde that you had once knew. It had been quite some time since you had last seen her, all having gone your separate ways to evade the law, and its cruel jurisdiction. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke, instantly recognising the woman that had aided them in the past.

Once you were all reintroduced, and met with her annoyance, which was surely understandable, she led you to her property, where you were able to part from the Sokovian, and share your distaste to the man, as well as remove the skimpy dress.

It pooled at your feet as you tossed it from your ankle, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear. As you squinted, searching for some reason that you were continuing with this foolishness of thinking that the world still considered you a hero, an echo of a knock rattled against the door. It was metal upon wood; Bucky.

“Come in.” You spoke, as you tied a spare robe around your waist, watching as the super soldier, who appeared less stoic, and more human stepped into the room, closing the door behind his emerging shadow. “You alright man?”

Bucky’s eyes drifted down for a moment, before they splintered back up towards your face, his jaw physically tensing, the notion well visible. He breathed in a long breath through his nose, as he stepped closer, his brow harsh and lined upon his forehead.

“I didn’t like Zemo putting his filthy hands on you.” He admitted aloud, the words of Sharon, teasing him for pining after someone that he had once thought of as no more than a friend of Steve’s. But now that man was gone, and so was the one that he used to be. Instead, he was left standing on his own feet, having to find balance by himself somehow.

“Neither did I.” You informed him. “It was like he was pulling back the images of his collapsing country, pouring every ounce of pain and hatred upon me, evading my mind with guilt, and the memories of what it all amounted to. None of it had been worth it, living like this. We’re treated like animals, no longer idols or heroes, people under the big thumb that keeps pressing down on us.”

“Well we’re both pressed down, limited to our rules and the outlines they want us to obey.” He nodded, raising his flesh hand to your collarbone, wanting to mark his touch upon it to remove that of Zemo’s. At his action, your breath hitched, but you allowed him to sweep his pads over the flesh, shuffling indefinitely closer so that you were chest to chest.

“We’re dangerous in their eyes. That’s a mindset they have in common with our prisoner out there.” You whispered, frowning from the thought. Two monarchies, one still whilst the other already fallen, served the same opinions, though, only one could continue to take action. Zemo was a Baron, but of what country now?

Like all, his home had been vanquished into smithereens, the foundations collapsing into rubble, the history disappearing with its lands, having thrown its dusty remnants in your face.

“I’m fine with being considered dangerous so long as I’m not alone.” He pinched your chin, tilting your head, this time though, you felt in his grasp. It didn’t belong to that of an enemy, it was one of an ally, a friend. “Tell me I’m not alone y/n.”

“I’m here James.” You stared up at him with focused pools, biting your lip as your mind went haywire over everything. “The Wakandans will come for him, you do realise that, right?” He hummed in reply, briskly bringing his metal hand to toy with the belt of the white wrap around.

“Do you think that you could show me that I’m not alone?” He nervously asked, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, as he awaited a reply. But instead of words, he earned himself the sensation of your lips upon his, collaborating in a touch starved jumble of grunts. “You’re beautiful, like...”

“Like what Barnes?” You prompted, brushing your palms onto his shoulders, easing his tenseness. Expectedly, you watched him through half lidded eyes as you leant up to plant supple kisses upon his neck, sucking his skin into your mouth, as though you were trying to thread it gently with your teeth.

“A muse.” He sighed, thinking for a momentum, before dragging your hair through his vibranium fist, lightly grinning as he heard your breath wither from the sensation. “A beautiful muse, one that reminds me to be better everyday. I want to become someone better for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You unlatched your mouth from him, frowning lightly at the brunette man. “You should become better for nobody but yourself Buck, each day, it’s about self growth, fixing everything that you have ever been taught so that you can learn to do better next time, so that no one else will die because of your expense.”

Bucky nodded, allowing your words to sink in. His fingers returned to playing with the waist band on your robe, his eyes gazing into your own, as he fiddled with the material. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.” You granted him permission, allowing him to push the coverage from you, his eyes widening at seeing you in nothing more than your underwear. His sight traced every curve and bump and dip that was upon your shape, licking his dry lips to make his gawking less subtle.

“You’re killing me doll.” He leant his head back, as he raked his contrasting fingertips down your shoulders, all the way to the small of your back. You smirked, grasping him through his jeans, earning yourself a moan from the elder man.

“I said it’s all about self growth, didn’t I? It seems that you are taking that in quite a literal sense.” You rubbed him through the denim, finding it unsurprising as the man backed you towards the bed, your knees hitting the end sending you falling onto the mattress.

Bucky crawled his way atop of you, rutting his hips against your own. It had been so long since he had been permitted to be this free, and he knew for sure, this would be a secret that he would not inform any therapist of. This was private, the sentiment making it close to his weathered heart.

His lips returned to your own, as your hands scaled beneath your shirt, lightly tracing the scars. He wasn’t as insecure as he thought he’d be about someone touching them, perhaps it was because many of your own materialised stories were written in your skin, or that you understood what it meant to be a soldier, serving under orders.

It didn’t matter too much, he wasn’t overthinking it. Instead, he was yearning as he grasped at the straps of your bra, trying to pull it over your head, as was done with the dames back in his day, but the effort seemed more difficult. Lightly leaning away from him, you reached around your back, unclamping the contraption before tossing it out of his sight.

He didn’t care to ask what the modern day had done to the garment, he was far too focused on your pert nipples, and how they stood to attention before him. The super soldier reached forwards, running his smooth hands upon the underneath of your breasts, before interacting with the present buds, softly tugging at them with his whimsical fingers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Released from you as a sign, instantly becoming pleased as Bucky stripped himself from everything but his underwear, leaving a nest of his clothes upon the wooden floor, as he leant his head down, capturing your left nipple within the warmth of his mouth, moaning lightly as your hands weaved through his locks, tugging lightly at the short roots. “Stop teasing Buck.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes roll from the slowness of motions, and thus, he reached down, and snapped the band of your underwear, the ripping noise audible, as he then pulled his boxers down, revealing his bobbing cock, that was directing its tip towards your entrance.

With a glance down, he lightly drooled at the way your cunt clenched around nothing, quickly swiping his fingers through your slit, as he brought them up to his lips, humming contently at the flavour that graced his tastebuds. “Need to be in you doll.”

“Need you in me soldier.” You taunted back, digging your knuckles into his shoulders as you pressed him against you, pushing your tongue into his mouth, as he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment for the pair of you to adjust to the sensations.

He was in you, filling you to the brim, as you tucked your heels into the base of his back, lightly rotating your hips up, as your tongue chased his own, sucking on it as you nipped at the end, causing him to unintentionally jerk his rigid cock into you.

That had prompted him to start moving, screwing his hands into the satin sheets either side of your head, as your bodies succumbed the others to waves of pleasure. It was a luxury, having an outlet to all the stress that your duty brought. If you could just pass the mantle on like Steve had done, and Clint was in the process of doing, you would.

But it was all you had known; the gritty route, that had spanned the entirety of your tale. And Bucky now became a part of it, as he became a part of you, unravelling your vulnerabilities with sleek thrusts into your cunt, and smooth words that had swept you from your feet and had landed you in a bed.

A bed thats structure was creaking from the strength behind the animalistic carnage that you spent on one another. His teeth pulled at your lip, opening your mouth so that you could use him as an oxygen mask. Neither one of you had noticed the door opened, and an unimpressed Sharon standing in the entry way, her agent arms crossed unamused.

She cleared her throat, which made Bucky still inside of you, and you to clutch onto his back, to cover the decency of your chest. “You let me go on the run, then you fuck in my bed. It’s like I’m not allowed to belong anywhere.”

“Sharon-“ she halted your speech by raising a finger, her eyebrows pointedly telling you not to bother trying to speak, as sweat beading down your body. Bucky subtly rolled from atop of you, quickly pulling the sheets over you both, giving Sharon views that she neither wanted nor appreciated.

That was grittiness, she was a hustler, not a once avenger. A part of you wished she would understand that, as much as it would be painful to hear, she hadn’t been the top of anyone’s list. She had disappeared, and from so, she had became unreachable, practically falling off the face of the earth.

But she had been here, in Madripoor, the island of bones and whatever else Zemo had described it to be. “You two fucked in my bed. Okay.” She remained cool headed, her eyes trailing through the various fabrics among her floor. “Thought I’d tell you to get ready, and to blend in, though you two have that part already figured out. There’s some clothes in the wadrobe, and from what I can tell, you’re going to need new underwear.”

She bothered no longer once she had informed you of what she had told the other men. Instead she simply left, only for you to brace your head back into the quality pillows, slumping, and dreading the journey ahead.

Though you seemed restless, Bucky still thought of you as a muse. His hands grasped your chin, leading your lips to his own, as he sucked on your bottom one, his right hand grasping one of your breasts, as he pulled you atop of him, your skin flushed as you steadied your weight over his tough thighs.

“Now this is a dangerous sight.” He clicked his teeth, trailing his large hand down from your jaw, surpassing the middle of your chest, to your hip, which he grasp, as he shuffled you up just a little, so that you were seated upon the base of his cock.

“I can show you dangerous Barnes.” You smirked, adjusting the both of you so you were ready to sink down on his length. Your hands softly stroked his erect shaft, as you tapped his tip upon your pussy, before pushing down, filling yourself up one more.

Madripoor was a bad place, but good things could come out of visiting the skull island. This was the job, though, breaks were prompted, and were you glad that Bucky had became your little bit of calm in the arising trouble in the world.

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath you, his balls clenching as he felt you writhe all the way down to his base, beginning to bounce upon him, the years of training that you had endorsed coming in handy as it had helped your stamina. He was a super soldier after all, you were surely going to need it.

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zhongliologist · 4 years ago

Text

In the Dark | Childe Smut

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Genre: SMUT!! SMUT!! SMUT!!

Words: 1.9k

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

A/N: MERRY FCKN CHRISTMAS Y’ALL!!

It was never clean cut or anything.

Like shadows in the dim light, everything was vague and hazy—thinly veiled by smoke and meaningful lies. There was never an agreement, yet as soon as your eyes meet and fingers touch, such tumultuous desire could never be denied. Just like how the both of you play and reside underneath the shadows, you breathe deception and swallow bitter truths while honey and milk drip from your lips.

He, as a Fatui Harbinger, was an omen of chaos wherever he went. He craved anarchy and disorder; his blood curdling with excitement whenever cataclysm befell. You, on the other hand was a product of desperation; pushed further and further into the darkness until you wore it like a second skin. You were the eyes and the ears of anyone who paid you handsomely, knowing no loyalties except towards the golden coin.

Yet, in some arbitrary reason, the both of you knew instinctively what the other needed—thus no physical or verbal contract has been made; only consensual desire written on skin as lips touch with fervor.

And that is where you found yourself, dragged in a dingy room of a musty inn with deep dark blue eyes piercing through you with unbridled desire.

“N-Not here….” You whispered, as his lips left you in a moment of repose. “Childe!”

“But I want to fuck you right here, princess.”

He only chuckled darkly; your wrists pinned on the brick wall as he attacked your neck with a voracious appetite. Pressing his warm body against yours, you could easily feel your sobriety slipping away and replacing it with lust.

Yet if only it were that simple, the both of you would have never repeated this vicious cycle over and over again.

“That’s enough!”

In an impulse, you pushed him away; your nails leaving scratches on his neck like a decorated scar.

Your body was heaving with eyes crackling like thunder. The air between the two of you permeated densely; charging with heat and electricity despite the distance.

Childe could feel you preparing to strike, like a snake judging the right time to lunge at their prey. He knew that if he moved an inch, he’d be electrocuted in an instant. Yet it only made his eyes dilate and his blood rush faster.

“And here I thought I’ve had it easy,” he began; a smirk hanging from his lips. “Took you long enough, princess.”

You scoffed at him. “I’m not like you.”

At your words, he arched a brow.

“Oh?” He began circling around you, like a predator to a hapless prey. “You’re not like me…what a funny thing to say.”

Childe mused to himself, flicking his hand to toy with droplets of water between his fingers. You felt uneasy at his flippant tone, knowing full well that he was contemplating something, and usually it wasn’t to your favor.

“You, who would drag your fingers on my arm while nobody noticed. You, who would keep on denying me, but want me more than anyone. You, who keeps on saying we’re not the same? Wow.”

Completing a full revolution, he then stopped behind you. Even without seeing, you could feel him breathe behind your back; hearing the sound of water moving to the motion of his fingertips.

“Wha—!”

You tried to turn around yet the cold wet droplets slid up your neck, making you stand rigidly in place. You could feel water move against your warm skin; the contrast making you shiver—he wasn’t even touching you yet you were already at this state.

“Yet look at you now, princess. We barely started and you’re trembling…” his voice had a mocking playful lilt; both sexy and charismatic.

“Just say you want me.”

It was disgraceful.

Fueled by your wounded pride welling up in your chest, you jerked back and launched a series of electrical currents towards him. Childe easily dodged the first few, yet couldn’t avoid the rest. However, instead of jerking away like you expected, he dashed towards you; seizing your wrists and pining you back on the wall with a loud thud.

Even with your wind knocked out of you, you could feel electricity still coursing on your skin—continually emitting waves towards Childe who was stubbornly strong, despite being electrocuted.

“Aahhh….Princess…” he muttered, his lips trembling. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Struggling to remove your wrists from his grasps, you grimaced at how he pushed even harder. In this game of push and pull, there is no clear victor. Yet victories aren’t the reason why you keep coming back. You knew there was something primal, something twisted running underneath your veins whenever Childe pins you against the wall like this; feral eyes blown wide.

“I never realized how much you’re in denial,” he grinned. “You’re not like me? Bullshit.”

Leaning close to you with lips mere inches from one another, Childe stared right at you with those ocean eyes, daring you to sink further into the abyss.

“We’re cut from the same cloth, Princess,” he purred, his knee pressing against your apex. “You like it when I fight back. You like it when I’m rough with you. You want me to fuck you hard and rough until you cry out in pain and pleasure. Am I right, Princess?”

At his words, you could only glare at him; not trusting to open your mouth when he was rubbing you at the right places.

“I trust your silence means yes,” Childe amused himself, his lips brushing against yours. “After all, people like us…we need to feel things quite intensely, don’t we? Mild, gentle, sweet…those things just don’t cut it anymore. You and I…we’re the same sort of crazy.”

His lips then crashed against yours ferociously, biting and nipping on your until they were swollen. Of course, you fought back. You bit on his lower lip until it bled, yet instead of pulling away, Childe on grinned and pried your mouth open with his tongue. You can taste his blood and the sheer lust he poured into the kiss. It was both intoxicating.

“You’re amazing, princess,” he purred to your ear, his knee grounding against your core as you rubbed yourself for some friction. “Ah, fuck. I’m so turned on.”

“C-Childe…!”

You tried to push him away one more time—or else this game would get boring, right? Yet he was prepared for it, catching your wrists and turned you around, effectively pushing you against the wall. You can feel his hard on pushing against your butt.

“Now, now. Be a good girl, princess. I’ll make you feel good in a sec.”

Releasing one of your hands, he relied on his weight to push you to the wall as he turned his attention to your already wet cunt. Pulling aside your garments, Childe’s fingers slid inside your underwear and began to rub your sensitive clit.

“W-wait…! Nmmhhn….!”

The sudden stimulation made you moan, closing your eyes as you felt your strength giving away at how much he was pleasuring you.

“Now, that’s what I wanna hear,” he whispered, sliding his tongue on your exposed shoulder. “Scream out my name next time, princess?”

With those words, he continued to make you feel good. Childe’s fingers brushed against your dripping wet slit, making it easy to circle around your nub. You could no longer keep your thoughts coherent; it felt so good that you couldn’t really think of anything else, much less stopping. The sound of his seductive humming kept you going, clouding your mind with a heady haze.

Eventually, he slipped two fingers inside of you. Long and agile, he could reach places you could never reach on your own. It didn’t help how he already knows which spots to send you over the edge. With just one push against your walls, your back arched, squealing in delight at how good it felt to be fingered by him.

“C-Childe….! Fuck…! P-Please…I—” you panted, turning your head towards him.

He smirked. “Oh? Is there anything you want, princess?”

You grimaced. You knew he wanted you to say it directly to him—to say how much you wanted to get fucked by his large cock which kept on rubbing against your ass. It would hurt your pride but—

He pushed his fingers against your sweet spot once more, interrupting your thoughts as you had to moan the pleasure he was giving you.

Pride, it doesn’t matter right now.

“C-childe….!! G-Goddamn it…mnnhmm…! F-fuck….me…please fuck m-me…nghh…! Hurry….!”

Smirking against the nape of your neck, Childe chuckled. “Well said, baby girl.”

With one of his hands, he pushed aside the rest of your clothing as he unzipped his pants. You could feel his hot and hard length gliding against your slit and coating it with your juices; the head of his cock brushing against your clit and making electrifying sensations throughout your body.

“S-stop…stop teasing me….aahhh—!C-Childe…! Childe…please…!”

“Here you go, princess!”

With one push, he slid his cock inside of you all the way to the hilt; making you keen against the wall. As soon as he was in, Childe began pounding against you as roughly and ruthlessly as he could. You could feel his length pushing all the way to the end, hitting all those wonderful spots which made you see stars.

“F-fuck princess…! You’re so fucking hot…!” he groaned to you ear as he nibbled on it, keeping his pace relentless as the grip of his hands to your waist.

He was already so addicted to this pleasure—of dominating you, of winning against you who kept him on his toes. He wanted you so much that if possible, he’d keep you as his. And of course, you were already his, as much as you had already ensnared him to be yours. It was toxic and definitely dangerous—but that’s where the thrill comes from.

“Mine,” he growled against your skin, filling every possible space on your shoulder with his marks. “You’re mine, princess…”

“A-ahh…! Ohhh! Childe…fuck…yes!! H-harder!”

He kept on pounding into you, his hand wandering to your breasts as he fondled them. You could feel him so intensely now, his hard cock rubbing your walls as he kept on stimulating your clit. Any moment now, you’d be sent to the edge.

“H-hey…can I come inside…?” he whispered on your lips, giving you small kisses here and there.

With half-lidded eyes, you caught his lips once more, giving him one long drawn kiss before replying. “It’s…fine…nghh! Fill me with your cum….!”

Definitely satisfied with your answered, Childe then pinched your clit without warning, surging pleasure throughout your whole body. You could feel your fingers and limbs tremble at how intense he was pounding into you; your head resting on his shoulders as Childe fucked you from behind.

“O-oh god—! C-childe!”

With one sharp thrust, you were pushed off the edge—coming so intensely as if you could faint from ecstasy. Your walls clamped hard on him, making him groan your name over and over again. A few erratic thrusts after, Childe finally came inside you as he bit your shoulder, filling you with his seed; the warmth spreading all over your lower half.

Falling down from both your highs, Childe began to lick the wound he had made on your skin. For some reason, he liked the taste of blood, more so yours.

“C-Childe…” you muttered, once again turned on even after you had just orgasmed.

He smirked. He knew right away what you wanted, and pushed his half-hard dick still inside you.

“You know princess, I think we’re really made for each other.”

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #childe smut #genshin impact x reader #nsfvv #i never thought i'd see the day i'll write childe smut

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mochegato · 3 years ago

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 29

Chapter 1 Chapter 28

“What?” Pegasus asked, his confusion and concern clear in his voice. “Is that… is that a code?”

“What the fuck does ‘always strive to be proper’ mean?” Bee demanded. “When have you ever been fucking proper?”

“You know, I don’t think I need this mask anymore,” she said at a normal volume. She pantomimed taking the mask off and throwing it in the trash as she walked to the stairs, giving Rena, one less illusion to focus on.

“So what’s the play?” Carapace asked.

“And what the fuck do manners have to do with it?” Bee demanded again.

“I wonder,” she mused out loud, “if this umbrella might be strong enough to act like a shield.” She examined it for a few seconds before shifting her eyes up to the rafters pointedly. She looked back at the umbrella and hung it on her arm. “I’m going to go with it will.” She whistled lowly as she casually walked up the stairs to the office. When she got to the door, she knocked.

“What the actual fuck, Marinette,” Bee hissed from behind her.

“Seriously!” Rena whisper shrieked. “You did not just fucking knock!”

“So the play is just to deliver yourself right to them?” Carapace grumbled. “Cool, Cool. It’s all cool. Peachy fucking keen plan.”

After a few seconds Marinette heard a muffled, “Come in.”

She opened the door and walked through politely. She hesitated just for a moment to allow Bee to come through as well before closing the door gently behind her. She turned toward Black Mask with her own mask of aloofness in place. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how angry she was because of him.

Her resolve almost dropped the instant she caught sight of Adrien. She knew he had to be in bad shape if Carapace was that affected and wouldn’t give her a report, but this was worse than she expected. She fought every instinct in her wanting to contort her face in horror and run to help Adrien immediately.

He looked like he was barely holding on. His shoulders were both definitely dislocated from having been hanging for so long, at least one of the bones in his arm looked broken. Blood was oozing down his face from several open cuts, some of which she couldn’t see because the area around it had swelled up to much. She couldn’t see under his shirt or pants, but judging by the blood seeping through both, there were considerable injuries there as well.

Her focus was interrupted when something stepped between them. A look of terror flashed across her eyes for a moment when she saw the distorted mask. She subconsciously took a breath to prepare for a fight. “Not an akuma,” Bee whispered gently. “Just an asshole who hurt Adrien.”

Marinette took a deep breath and settled back into her detached façade, straightening up and settling into a confident stance. She smiled politely at the men in the room. “Hello, gentlemen.”

“Marinette,” Adrien slurred out, only able to partially open one eye. “Que fais-tu?” He groaned when one of the henchmen punched him for speaking.

Black Mask smiled at her. “Well, I must say, of all the things I was expecting tonight, you walking into here willingly was not one of them. It makes my job much easier. Thank you for that.”

Marinette nodded slightly and hugged the umbrella to her. “Well, you did extend an invitation and it seemed like the polite thing to do. And I do strive to be proper.”

Black Mask grinned. “Ahh, a likeminded individual. So hard to find in Gotham.”

“I heard you said you would release him if I came. I held up my end of the bargain,” she opened her arms to indicate herself, “I would appreciate it if you did as well… for propriety’s sake.”

Black Mask pulled his hand into his chest and bowed slightly. “How could I deny such a polite, proper request? If nothing else, I am a man of my word.” He motioned toward the chain, keeping his eyes on her. When nobody moved, he turned to one of the henchmen with a glare. “That means cut him down you moron!” he yelled.

He turned back to Marinette with a charming smile and ran his hand over the top of his head as if smoothing down the hair his mask hid. “It’s impossible to find good help these days.”

“I’ve found the quality of help matches the rate at which they’re paid. I would suggest raising your wages,” Marinette offered conversationally. Her attention shifted when she heard Adrien fall and land hard in a heap. She looked back at Black Mask, eyebrow raised.

“I said I would release him,” he sneered, his pride in himself for his double cross clear in his condescending grin. “He is released and free to leave.”

Marinette nodded curtly. “And I suppose I’m not allowed to assist him in his leaving,” she noted, almost tiredly, the double cross not as surprising as he apparently thought it would be.

Black Mask pretended to think about it for a moment. “But then you wouldn’t be here, breaking the agreement.”

“The agreement was that I come, not that I stay,” she pointed out coolly.

Black Mask grinned widely in amusement at her reaction. He didn’t often come up against people like her. Granted, it wasn’t really ‘going up against’ since she wasn’t much of a match for him, but still, it was enjoyable. “That is a very good point. This part of the arrangement was not negotiated, so we get to decide the rules.”

“And I don’t suppose the ‘we’ of which you speak is you and me, by mutual agreement,” Marinette asked pointedly.

“No.” The condescending smirk on his face was almost enough to rile her out of her plan. But she’d dealt with patronizing assholes before.

“Well then the ‘we’ is going to be me and my brother,” she said shortly. “Propriety states the guest gets to set the terms of the stay and we will be leaving here together and alive. The state of you and your men is still up to you.” She sighed and removed the umbrella from her arm. “I like to think myself a reasonable woman, a compassionate woman, so I’ll give you a choice.”

Black Mask looked at her and then looked at his men to see if they heard the same as he had. They all started laughing hard. “Cute. It’s almost a shame to kill you. Maybe I’ll just keep you as a play toy. In fact, I think I have a collar somewhere around. Because I think you fundamentally misunderstand our relationship here.” He moved closer to her so he could stand over her. “I. Own. You.”

Marinette looked at him impassively, refusing to show any fear, and shook her head. “I gave you a choice,” she responded tiredly. “I hope you remember you chose this.”

Black Mask grinned maliciously. “Oh, I will. And I’ll make sure to give you lots of choices yourself… after I have you bound and gagged and at my mercy.” He took a step back and motioned to his men toward her. His men started closing in on her. “Because Batman won’t save you today.”

One of the men walked forward slowly, not feeling the need to rush, while another moved quietly behind her, probably hoping to surprise her. She waited until they were within arm’s reach before moving. She shot the umbrella handle out, wrapping the curved handle around Goon #1’s neck and jerked back forcefully, pulling him off balance and driving the pointed end of the umbrella into Goon #2’s gut.

She kicked Goon #1 in the face as he fell and slammed the umbrella into the side of Goon #2’s head. She heard rapid footsteps behind her and twirled to face Goon #3. She held the umbrella at both ends, using it to deflect the knife he thrust at her and the punch he threw with his other. She jabbed him in the stomach with the handle, then brought it up against his jaw as hard as she could. He groaned as he fell, collapsing hard.

She didn’t have time to take a breath before the next goon was advancing quickly on her. She lunged again to wrap the handle around Goon #4’s neck, but once it connected he fell back, pulling the umbrella with him and away from her. It fell to the ground with a clatter. Goon #4 looked back up at her with a vicious grin. She raised an eyebrow at him and kicked him in the face, connecting with a crack that echoed throughout the room. His pained groans created a satisfying harmony with the groaning coming from the other two men.

The room froze as the men, even the ones groaning on the floor, stared at her in surprise, unsure how to assess her danger. Marinette stared at the umbrella for just a second before kicking it over to Adrien. “To help shield you,” she yelled pointedly. Adrien barely nodded but it was enough for Marinette to know he understood. He moved his hand slowly toward the umbrella in slow jerky movements.

“He’s going to need more of a shield,” Carapace said quietly. “I’m going down.”

Marinette looked at Adrien again for just a second before nodding seemingly to herself and turning back to the other goons. She needed to end this fight quickly. She was still riding the advantage of their lowered expectations, but the longer they fought, the less advantage she would have. “That was one of your big mistakes,” she taunted, hoping to antagonize them into rash decisions, and settled into a fighting stance. “I don’t need Batman to save me.”

Her comment seemed to spur Black Mask into action. His eyes widened in realization before scrunching in frustration. “Get her!” he screamed pointing toward her.

Two more goons approached her at the same time. Goon #4 stood up, his nose gushing blood as he rushed her from the front, knife in hand. She dodged him, kicked him hard in the gut. He fell back in front of her with a grunt, but tried to stand as quickly as he could manage. While she was focused on Goon #4, Goon #5 punched her in the back with his brass knuckles. A metallic clinking sound reverberated throughout the room. He groaned in pain, clutching his hand while Marinette grunted from the force of him hitting her billy clubs, pushing her forward, into Goon #4.

She brought her knee up and hit him in his side and pushed away from him. He hissed in pain, but immediately swung at her. She blocked his punch with one arm and delivered a sharp kidney punch with the other. He leaned over clutching his side, putting his head at a perfect level for her. She kneed him in the face with enough force to knock him out.

She heard movement behind her and kicked back before Goon #4 hit the floor. She caught Goon #5 in the side, but he rolled with it, lessening the impact. He wrapped his arm around her leg and pulled. She yelped as she fell face first on the ground. She twisted as she fell and kicked hard again, catching him in the groin. He screamed in pain and collapsed on his knees. She kicked in in the face. He fell backward, still moaning.

She heard a quiet ‘venom’ and turned away from him with an impudent smirk, confident he wouldn’t be an issue anymore. Two goons down for the count, four more plus the Big Bad himself. She cricked her neck to the side and stared down the two goons bearing down on her. She worked her hands behind her back as she slowly backed away, giving herself a few extra seconds to get her hands securely on the billy clubs.

The goons advanced quickly on her. When the men were arm’s length away, she whipped out the billy clubs and twisted quickly, flaring her arms out at the same time, hitting both of them across the head. She stopped her turn and reversed it, lowering her arms this time, catching Goon #2 again on the other side of his head, but Goon #6 dodged to avoid her, kicking her knee hard, the same knee the goon earlier had kicked and Goon #5 had grabbed. Marinette fought to keep the pained groan in as she fell to one knee. She focused on Goon #6 as she heard ‘venom’ behind her, knowing Goon #2 wouldn’t be getting up again for a while.

As she fell, she twisted, whipping out her arm. She caught him in the side with her billy club, but he dropped his arm, trapping it against his side. At the same time, he whipped his own billy club at her. She moved her other club behind her back, blocking the brunt of the hit, but it still forced her own billy club into her shoulder blade. It was definitely going to cause a dark bruise in the morning, but it didn’t hit hard enough to impede her for now.

“What are you waiting for?” Black Mask screamed at Goons #1 and 3, who were watching from the sidelines. They looked at him for a second before jumping into action and rushing toward her.

She used the leverage Goon #6 gave her by holding her club to swing around him and kick Goon #1, who was fast approaching to join the fight, in the face. He staggered back, holding his jaw, knocking into Goon #3. She whipped her untrapped arm back, hitting Goon #6’s elbow, releasing her club. He groaned and turned on her, eyes flashing in anger.

Marinette grinned and turned away to run toward the goons behind her. When she got a few feet in front of Goon #1, she dropped to her knees, sliding the last few feet past him. She bent back to avoid his wild swing and hit the back of his knees with her club. She didn’t bother looking back to see how it affected him, immediately jumping into a side spin, kicking Goon #3 in the head. She barely registered his tortured scream as she caught his already broken jaw, but she definitely caught the ‘venom’ whispered next to her.

She used the momentum from the spin to kick Goon #1 again, this time in his ribs. He bent over in pain and she forced her body up in an upward swing a major league slugger would have been proud of, catching him in the face. This time she didn’t have to wait for Bee, completely confident he wouldn’t wake up for days without her help.

She gasped at a sharp, deep flash of pain took her breath and dropped her to the ground. She grabbed her side to stop the throbbing and turned back to Goon #6. He was moving before she could process his movement, kicking her in the head, catching her already injured cheek, breaking the previously healing cut open again. The force of the impact pushed her back several feet.

Marinette focused her energy. She couldn’t afford to be injured right now. She couldn’t afford to feel pain. She couldn’t afford to feel anything right now. The only thing she had time for was saving Adrien. She closed her eyes and took a breath, pushing away the pain strumming through her body, closing off that part of her that felt and focused on getting the job done. When she opened her eyes again, they were sharp and cold. She no longer felt the hammering in her head or the quivering, pulsating pain in her chest. The only thing she felt was determination.

Goon #6 stalked closer to her a self-assured, arrogant smile on his face. He brought his billy club down on her without mercy. Marinette moved quicker than he could follow, crossing her clubs in front of him to block his blow. She rose up on her feet as he pushed against her until she stood up fully. She pushed him back with enough force for him to fall back a few feet. He brought his club back at her with a hard swing from above. She blocked it again and hit his hip with her other club.

He swallowed his grunt and backed away again. Marinette grinned coldly at him and spun the clubs in her hands. As soon as they settled in her hands she drove forward swinging at him with both hands in a volley of strikes that pushed him back across the room. He moved his club from side to side as he backed away, struggling to keep up with her. After they’d moved about halfway across the room, Marinette kicked him in the lower stomach.

He groaned but didn’t collapse. He shook it off and came back at her full force, swinging his club as hard as he could, peppering kicks and punches in, each one she blocked with her club until she twisted into a side flip kick, catching him in the back of the head. He stumbled forward and fell onto his knees and a hand.

“I’m done with this!” Black Mask yelled, drawing attention to himself. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Adrien. “You chose this,” he sneered, throwing her words back at her. “I was going to let him live, to tell your father about what happened to you, but not anymore.”

Adrien opened the umbrella with shaky hands and curled behind it, groaning from the effort it took and wincing from the pain of putting pressure on his abdomen. Black Mask chuckled mercilessly. “You think that’s going to help you? It wasn’t that kind of umbrella.” He watched Marinette with malevolent glee as he fired five shots off in quick succession.

As soon as the sound echoed through the room, an indistinct green glow emitting with each hit, Marinette was moving. Goon #6 was watching the slaughter with a psychopathic grin, missing the movement next to him. Marinette hit him in the face, a sickening crack echoing through the room. He passed out from pain before he hit the floor, face first, definitely breaking his nose. Marinette didn’t bother trying to break his fall, switching focus to Black Mask instantly.

Black Mask ignored Adrien, not wasting time checking on what was clearly a dead man, before he leveled the gun at Marinette. But before he could get off a shot Adrien hooked the umbrella around his far ankle and pulled with the last of his strength, passing out before Black Mask pulled the trigger. Black Masks’ shot went wild as he staggered sideways, catching himself just before he fell.

But the focus on keeping his balance distracted him just enough for Marinette to act. She threw one of her clubs at him, following behind it as it spun in the air. It caught Black mask on the side of the head. The mask buffered most of the impact, but he still keeled over slightly, giving Marinette the leverage she had been anticipating.

She jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his torso and twisting as she fell, forcing him to hit the ground hard under her. She straddled his chest, pinning his arms against his torso and shoved the billy club against his throat, holding him in place.

Black Mask snickered at her, the very picture of calm and collected and utterly unbothered by their positions. “What are you going to do, princess? You going to hurt me? You think someone like you could hurt someone like me?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You think you’re the worst I’ve faced? That you’re the most threatening? Most intimidating?” She scoffed callously and leaned closer to his face. “I longed for villains as pathetic and useless as you. I begged every good thing in this universe to give me a relief of someone like you instead of the things we had to face, actual intimidating enemies. You are nothing. This…” she flicked her eyes around briefly, “was nothing. I’m not even out of breath. But, you come near my family ever again, I will…”

“Yeah, yeah you’ll kill me,” Black Mask chuckled haughtily. “I’ve heard this before. You think you’re more threatening than your brother? You think I’m afraid to die?”

She quirked her head to the side and studied him for a few seconds. “I assume you’re referring to one of the Waynes.” She shook her head condescendingly. “I’ve never found any of them particularly threatening. Quite telling that you do. But, I assure you, they have nothing on me.” She leaned back slightly but kept the pressure on his neck. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of Humperdinking you.”

“Oooh,” his eyes brightened excitedly, “kinky.”

“That’s rather the point…” Marinette’s smile turned vicious, “it’s won’t be. I let you live, but you are going to be so vile looking, you’ll make Two-Face look like Idris Elba in comparison. You won’t even be able to pay anyone to as much as spit on you, let alone more.”

“Ha, jokes on you. I’m into that shit,” he scoffed, spitting out blood.

“Lucky you,” she answered patronizingly, fully aware he was only acting tough. “Not everyone is into people looking at them in disgust and laughing at them as they walk away. Because that’s all you’re going to ever going to get again if you come near me or my family again; pity.”

“Careful, princess, what would your father say? Your father wouldn't be too happy if you hurt me too bad,” he taunted.

Marinette stared at him incredulously until she laughed and shook her head, never easing the pressure on his neck. “My father once became a monster that tried to kill the local heroes because he thought a boy hurt my feelings. If someone actually hurt one of his family? You have no idea the things he would do.” She increased the pressure on his neck as she leaned closer to sneer in his face. “And only one person gets to call me ‘Princess’ and that isn’t you.”

She looked up when the skylight broke and two bats soared through. Black Mask took advantage of her distraction and wrapped his legs around her torso, pulling her backward. He jumped up and grabbed her, pulling her against him, holding a knife he pulled out of nowhere to her throat. “Looks like our time’s up, princess. But, don’t worry, I’ll see you again.” He purred into her ear.

“Back away from her now,” Nightwing growled.

He looked back up at the bats with a demented smile. “Ah ah ah,” he warned. “Get any closer and I’m going to give her a second smile.” He pressed the knife harder against her throat to prove his point.

When he was satisfied they were holding their position, he leaned closer to her ear. “You're a Wayne you should get used to this, princess. Nobody around you is safe, and never will be,” he hissed.

Marinette narrowed her eyes and tensed her body. “Well, you messed with the wrong Wayne,” she snarled. She brought the club up with a quick, hard hit against his wrist. He dropped the knife instantly. She whirled around and pointed the club against his chest, using the tip to push him backwards.

She leaned slightly over the club, still keeping a distance in case he had another knife hidden somewhere. “Because to tell you a family secret, I'm not a Wayne. I'm a mother fucking Dupain Cheng. And we never leave a family member behind. We protect our family. And you? You hurt my family. That was your biggest mistake.”

“Marinette…” Nightwing warned loudly, his voice echoing throughout the office.

Marinette quirked her head to the side, letting him know she heard him, and pulled the club back. Black Mask breathed a sigh of relief, but was careful not to show it. Marinette turned back to him with a malevolent glint in her eyes. She brought the club back up and belted him across his mask with her full strength.

She knew she probably shouldn't have felt has satisfied about the sickening crack she heard when the metal made contact, indicating a definite shattering of his jaw. But she didn't care. He thought he could touch Adrien. He thought he could hurt her family to hurt her. He was wrong. He fell to the ground with a surprised expression, still staring at her in shock. Marinette dropped the club when she heard ‘venom’ whispered in her ear.

“Marinette!” Nightwing yelled. “Stand down,” he warned sternly.

Marinette turned to him and scoffed. “How much more down do you want me to be? I already dropped my weapon.” She opened her arms wide to show she didn’t have anything else but winced in pain from the movement.

“Are you okay?” Spoiler moved closer to examine her, but Marinette backed away.

“I’m fine. I can walk it off.”

“You need to go to the hospital and get checked out,” Spoiler answered softly. “Can I?” He motioned toward her side she was now holding.

“No. But you can call an ambulance for Adrien,” she answered definitively. She took a breath and started to limp over to Adrien. Now that the fight was over, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and she was starting to feel the pain, all of it. God she just wanted to collapse somewhere and sleep for a few days.

“You know, when you were talking about… about who you are,” Nightwing started. “I thought…” he paused as if trying to find the correct way to phrase what he wanted to say. “I thought you were going to say you were a Wayne so you protected your family.”

Marinette looked at him incredulously, but continued to limp toward Adrien. “I might have if I thought that described them.”

“But that's your family,” he objected weakly.

She scoffed and eased herself to sitting next to Adrien, trying to figure out how to help him, if there was anything she could do to ease his pain. “No, that's my genetic donor and his family. Family is more than just blood. Family is caring about one another. Family is shared experiences and looking out for each other. Family is love and devotion and trust. Family is protecting and supporting each other. I haven't experienced any of that with them, not really… well maybe…” she shook her head dispelling the image of each of them acting close with her. But when it came down to it, when it came to Adrien’s life, not one of them was there for her.

She shook her head definitively. “They aren't family. They tried to keep me from my family, from helping him,” she motioned toward Adrien. “They abandoned me, us. They’ll never be family.”

Nightwing stared at her heartbroken. That was not what happened… was it. Is that how she saw it? He cursed mentally. Fucking fuck. Of course that’s what she saw. He opened his mouth to try to say something, anything to fix it, but at that moment Adrien made a wet, labored, groaning noise.

Marinette’s head whipped toward him. “We’re going to need a ride to the hospital,” she announced loudly.

Spoiler nodded. “Of course, Mar… ma’am. The ambulance is on the way now.”

“I’m hoping to voyage a bit more immediately than that,” she said pointedly, her voice even louder this time, verging on panicking.

While Spoiler pushed on the com to encourage emergency services, Nightwing moved closer to Marinette to comfort her. He froze a few steps away from her. A bright white circle appeared directly under her and Adrien. Before he could blink, they were gone, disappeared through the hole. Nightwing looked and saw clean linoleum tiles and a familiar front desk.

Instead of panic, which he would have expected if something like this happened when someone wasn’t expecting it, Marinette appeared to relax slightly. He could see her look up and scream. “I need some help here! Now!” He blinked a few times before moving to fall through as well, but before he could, the portal closed. He patted the ground trying to… he didn’t know what. Trying to see if it was still there just hidden maybe.

The office door opened with a loud thud. Batman scanned the room instantly. “Where is she? Where is Marinette?” His voice was verging on emotional, which for Batman, who barely ever displayed any emotion other than angry in the field, that was a significant insight as to just how affected he really was.

Nightwing continued to stare at the spot. “She’s at the hospital,” he answered in a daze, still trying to process what he had seen.

Batman narrowed his eyes at him. “Already? The ambulance was just arriving as we did.”

Nightwing shook his head. “A portal opened up under them ending at the hospital.” His voice was detached as he started looking around for more clues as to what happened. His eye caught on a flash of metal on the floor. He picked it up and examined it. Red Hood came up next to him and took it from his hand to examine it as well.

“And you just let it happen?” Batman demanded, stalking up to him threateningly.

Nightwing finally looked up at him with a scowl. “There really wasn’t a way to stop it,” he growled back. “They were sitting in front of me and in less than a second they were gone.” He shook his head and looked back at the spot. “She was expecting it though. She knew it was coming. She wasn’t surprised.”

“This is a zoo quality tranquilizer,” Red Hood said, holding the tranquilizer dart Nightwing had found up to the light. “French, judging by the words on the side.”

“Marinette’s?” Robin asked.

Spoiler shrugged. “Where would she even get that?”

“Where would Black Mask, and why? Much easier and cheaper to get things like that here,” Red Hood noted. “It would certainly explain why all those guys are passed out when they don’t have the kind of injuries that would cause that.”

“We need to get to the hospital and check on Marinette and Adrien,” Red Robin commented.

Batman nodded and touched his com. “Black Bat, Signal, you’re on protection duty. Watch the hospital. Make sure nobody else comes for her. Oracle, start reviewing the surveillance videos. Make sure there’s no indication of more danger for her. The rest of us finish up around here.”

“Can some of us go to the hospital? I want to get to Marinette and check on her,” Red Robin asked.

“We’ll check on her after. We need to see if we can interview some of these guys and get more information. The more of us that stay, the quicker we can interview them.”

Red Robin sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”

Up in the rafters, Pegasus, Bee, Carapace, and Rena looked at one another questioningly. “Well, that’s interesting,” Carapace noted.

Rena nodded. “We can think about that later. Pegasus, can you get us all home and yourself to the hospital. Marinette still doesn’t have a phone and we are going to want regular checkups while we make our way there, so Agent M, don’t worry about propriety. Let us know what is happening.”

Agent M bobbed up and down. “I understand. Bypassing privacy firewalls.”

“And grab a bag for Marinette with a change of clothes,” Bee added. “She won’t want to stay covered in that blood all night.”

Pegasus nodded grimly. “Let’s get going. I want to get there as quickly as possible.”

Chapter 30

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#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #Even the Losers #roynette #prompt - take your kid to work

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cyborg-franky · 3 years ago

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Hey franky hope you're doing well (:

For the valentine day prompt can i ask for roger scenario prompt 15 please? ( Sorry I'm not really sure what character to pick other than him💀)

Thanks and bye 🤍

I am not bad my love, my darling. I hope you enjoy <3

Roger x GN Reader N/SFW MODERN AU Word Count: 650

By hating valentine’s day, you felt like you played into the cliché of ‘bitter single’ all too well and it brought you down further. You glared at the rain outside the window, the pattering against the glass was often soothing, tonight it seemed like it was just mocking the angry tears that pricked the corner of your eyes.

Looking down at your phone your better judgement flew out the window. Typing the message as you bit you lip you hoped he would respond. [Hey, busy tonight?]

[Never too busy for you!] he responded almost instantly.

[Wanna come over and fuck?] You bit your lip harder as you saw him typing.

[Yeah! Over in five!]

You’d decide to save him the trouble and removed your clothes, laying on the bed naked as you looked at a few things on your phone. Scrolling aimlessly over your social media, glaring with pure distain at all the happy couples. It just fuelled your sinking feeling of unhappiness.

[Doors open] you sent him a quick message when you heard a knock.

It didn’t take Roger long to find you in your room. He’d already taken off his shoes and the moment he laid eyes on you he worked on taking the rest of his clothes off. Pulling at his jeans he almost fell over with how desperate he was for you.

That thought alone made you feel a little better. This handsome older man almost breaking his ankle with his battle to get naked and join you. Made you feel pretty powerful in all honesty. Soon Roger lept onto the bed with you, pinning you down, his lips finding yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, noses touching as his hands roamed across your skin, down your sides as he took in a breath. You both stared into one another’s eyes as he pulled back, kissing your forehead.

“Don’t be sad pet.” Roger said as his hands found your chest, starting to tease your nipples.

“I’m here, I’ll put a smile back on that pretty face.” He grinned down at you as he made his way down your body, kisses here and playful bites there.

Feeling him between your legs, feeling his warm breath against your inner thighs sending pleasant tingles through you. His hands grabbed your ass and pulled you against him as he worked on your sex with the experienced touch of an older man. Feeling the chuckle deep in his throat as he worked you over you gripped his wavy hair.

The desperate pleading of a sinner in church flowed freely from your lips as Roger continued making you feel good. Bucking your hips greedily for more, Roger was more then happy to give you. His speed slowly grew with each moan that grew in volume.

Roger pulled away, smirk on his face as he used his equally skilled hands to bring you closer to your edge, he watched as your sex reacted favourably to his ministrations. You gripped your sheets as you got closer. He’d decided the way his name sounded in your frenzied cries of pleasure was his favourite thing on earth.

“Come on pet, come for me, make a mess, come on.” He cooed, who were you to deny such a request when he was making you feel like this with just his damn hand?

Crying out loudly you screwed your eyes shut, body lifting off the mattress as he got you to where you needed to go. You came over his hand, coating his skin with your juices. Your panting filled the dimly lit room. The pitter patters on the window took precedence in the tranquillity of the room as you came down from your high.

“Beautiful, handsome, wonderful.” Each time he complimented you he placed a kiss on your thigh.

“Ready for me pet?”

“Oh, more than ever…” You leaned forward and pulled him down against you.

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#gol d roger x reader #gol d roger x you #gol d. roger #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #n/sfw #roger x you #roger one piece x you #roger x reader #gender neutral reader

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foodieforthoughts · 4 years ago

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Hello love! I have this scenario stuck in my head:

Walter hurts his right shoulder quite badly when solving a case (or slipping on ice 🤔)which leaves him imobile to his dominant arm. Being the stubborn man he is, he releases himself from the hospital and back at home has to release that he alone struggles with the simplest tasks. Due to the time of night or a snowstorm outside the only one left to ask for help is that new annoying neighbour (there's the trope I guess)... might lead to a number of embaressing (and hot?) situations...

Wherever that came from... never mind my weird brain 🙈... does that maybe, possibly strike your muse?

Omg. 🤭 Thank you for the request @omgkatinka I tried to make it fluffy and funny, but I'm in a Walter mood lately and it did end up with a hint of smut, so here it goes.

Warnings: slight description of shoulder injury, a little bit of angst, fluff, description of male masturbation

*divider by @firefly-graphics

Title: Helping hand

Walter groaned when he turned on his side, half asleep and in a lot of pain. His shoulder throbbed like a thousand needles pricked him at the same time, shooting a blinding pain up to his fingers.

"Fuck!" He cursed at himself, rolling onto his back and trying to breathe through his agony. He clutched his sore shoulder with his hand, gently soothing the bandages and blinking through the tears that had sprung at the corners of his eyes.

Walter had hurt his shoulder while on a mission to catch hold of a guy involved in human trafficking. They had chased the culprit through the abandoned factory, barely losing him through the maze of metal staircases when Walter had lunged at the man, tackling him to the floor. But the rusty old work bridge had crumbled under the force, bringing both men crashing down to the ground with metal pieces and debris. Luckily for them they weren't harmed in a life threatening manner, but Walter's shoulder had dislocated, resulting in a torn labrum requiring surgery.

"Fuck this shit." Walter had told himself while lying in his hospital bed on the third day post surgery, pressing the call button for the nurse. He had gruffly told the pale, scared woman that he wanted to go home and he was feeling fine. After arguing with the doctor about his health, Walter had self discharged himself against medical advice.

He thought he had made a wise choice coming home, but he knew he was stupid to think he could make it on his own.

Sitting up on the bed and grabbing the strap of the arm sling, Walter groaned. With his dominant hand rendered useless for the time being, Walter had a lot of trouble with his daily activities. Faye and Angie were in California visiting her parents, leaving him no one to call for help for the past weeks.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when he saw the heavy blanket of snow outside. Checking his watch, he gathered it was only four pm and yet it was almost dark with snow still falling steadily. Walter had taken his pain meds and a sleeping pill when he had awoken in the middle of the night, and had effectively knocked himself out for a good twelve hour sleep. With that realization, his stomach growled indicating his missed meals for the day.

Looking around at the kitchen, Walter groaned when he saw the empty takeout boxes and the overflowing trash can. Injury had left him disorganised, making him live like a junkie. He couldn't even remember the last time he had taken a decent shower, sniffing the air as he could smell his own body odour. He was about to grab a trash bag from the counter and try to clean, when his doorbell rang.

Walter groaned, again. He had an inkling it was her. His chirpy neighbor who was the only one who showed up to help him every other day. She was annoying in the beginning, trying to start up conversations when all he wanted to do was sulk. But he had warmed up to her, still keeping her at an arm's length, but allowing her to assist him from time to time. When he opened the front door, there she was, looking adorable covered in cozy woollen attire from head to toe, a cute beanie over her hair, carrying a big lunch box in her gloved hands. She smiled at him, shivering with the cold winds until he moved to the side to let her in.

You could never believe how intimidating Walter had seemed to you only a couple of weeks ago. He would always throw a curt nod at you when you would greet him from your door if you ever happened to cross paths, never smiling or staying for a chat. You had gathered from the other neighbors that he was a cop, Detective Walter Marshall, kind of a loner and always grumpy. There was no denying your attraction to him, his scruffy beard and thick curls always left your fingers itching to touch them, with his accent being a major plus point. But he would never give you a chance to strike up a decent conversation.

It was all fun and games, you liked the chase, even if you were the one doing all the chasing. Seemed like a conquest for you but when his car was missing from his parking spot for days on end, you began worrying about him. Then one fine day, you spotted him out in the curb, trying to open the trash bin with one hand while the other was hanging in a sling. You had walked up to him, out of concern when Walter had turned around to go back inside slipping on the ice, only for you to grab a hold of him trying to break his fall but instead tumbling to the cold ground with him on top of you. He had apologized profusely, wincing in pain as he moved and letting you help him stand up.

From that day onwards, you always made it a point to stop by his house atleast once. It helped that Walter never complained.

"I had made lasagna. Did you have lunch?" You asked, taking off your beanie to hang on the hook and leaving your boots by the door. You felt Walter's looming figure follow you as you made your way to the kitchen. Taking in the surrounding, you nodded to yourself, your question answered without Walter having to utter a word. "Very well, why don't you sit at the table and I'll serve you the food?"

You tried to grab clean plates and spoons, frowning at the dirty dishes from last night, but you didn't blame him. It was only so much he could do with one hand.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?" You asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the Detective.

"No. I took sleeping pills."

Placing the plate of food in front of him, you narrowed your eyes at him. "Don't get too attached to those meds though." You handed him the spoon and fork, before getting to clean his kitchen.

"You don't have to do that." Walter protested from his place at the table, almost about to stand up. "I was about to clean around the house."

"With one hand? Come on, Detective Walter, you know better than that. And I don't mind, I was holed up at my house since morning anyway, this atleast gives me a chance to do something." You winked at him, grabbing the empty bottles of water and shoving them in the trash bag. By the time Walter had finished his meal, you had cleaned the kitchen with only the dishes to spare.

"Let me get those." Walter tried to reach for the soap but you were fast enough to grab it first.

"Go rest, I can handle this." You nudged him playfully with your hip. You could not believe your eyes when you saw Walter smile. "Wow! Look at that! I am being graced with a smile."

Rolling his eyes at you, Walter stayed put at his place, handing you the plates one by one. You insisted for him to rest, but he denied each of your requests. You were just about done loading up the dishes in the dishwasher when your phone rang from it's place in the purse that was hanging on the hook.

"I'll put them in the rack, go." Walter assured you with another smile. You nodded at him, handing the gloves and walking out the kitchen. You were texting back your mom, when you heard the Detective cuss loudly, followed by falling and breaking of plates. You hurried inside to find Walter drenched with soapy water and the broken pieces of ceramic and glass on the floor.

"I'm done with this!" He shouted, trying to pry open the velcro of his sling in anger. The edge of his shirt dripped water on the floor with a stream travelling down from the front of his pants.

"Hey, hey." You rushed to him, carefully maneuvering away from the plates, and caught hold of his hands. "It's okay. It happens. Why don't you go change and I'll clean here." You didn't back down when he stared at you, not moving and not giving up. But a silent moment passed and he left for his bedroom without a word.

You walked towards Walter’s bedroom, the silence of the house only disturbed by the whistling winds of the oncoming storm outside. It was late in the night when you had gotten the chance to pay the ailing Detective a visit. With freshly baked cookies in a box, you had knocked at his door only to be left standing out in the cold. He had handed you a spare key for emergencies as the storm warning approached which you never used until today.

When you reached the door to his bedroom, you stopped in your tracks hearing muffled grunts from the other side. The door was slightly cracked open, faint light seeping out to the the hallway. You peered through the gap only to gape at the sight.

The other day when Walter had spilled water over his front and gone to change, you had followed him after hearing him cursing at himself. He had a hard time taking off the wet clothes, making him angrier by the minute. You had helped him then, only to be left mesmerized by his body as your nimble fingers had brushed over his skin.

Walter had his eyes closed, his arm in the sling and resting on his naked chest and pillows with a sheet covering his lower half. His other hand was under the cover, moving up and down as he pleasured himself. You felt your cheeks warm, spreading down to your chest and the tip of your ears as you watched him in his private moment, wanting to turn and run away but failing to do so.

You weren't going to ask him, but you could swear a long moment of sparks had passed between the two of you. Your dreams now featured vivid fantasies with Walter, leaving you in a daze for the rest of the day.

As much as you wanted to stare at his heaving chest, listen to his melodious moans and trace his sweat sheened face with your gaze; this felt like a rude invasion of privacy. You were about to turn on your heels when you heard the whisper of your name rolling out of his lips. Whipping your head to see if you had been caught red handed, you were left baffled to find Walter's eyes closed, unaware of your presence and repeating your name like a mantra while he pumped his length.

You had no idea what got into you, but the urge to be with the man you had been lusting over was so strong, you pushed the door open with heated cheeks and a trembling core. Walter's eyes shot open, widening as he took in your presence, scrambling to hide himself underneath the sheets.

"Wh-what are you-?" He stammered, a rosy pink tint appearing on his flushed skin.

You did not answer him, choosing to close the distance between the two of you instead. You crouched down next to his side of the bed, placing your hand on his scruffy cheek. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted as he struggled to regain his breath and rendered speechless at the debacle. You waited for him to object to your advances, watching as he wet his lips with his tongue before leaning to kiss him. Walter remained frozen for a long second, until he moved his lips along with yours.

Breaking away from the kiss, you smiled at him, a hand creeping to his member that twitched in response. "Do you need a hand?" You asked, smirking as Walter could only nod before you pulled the sheet away from his body.

#ask foodie #walter marshall #Walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall nomis #nomis #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #requests

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