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cowchickenbeefpork · 4 months

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look I’m not going to argue that Edward truly loved Kristen for who she was genuinely ( he didn’t ) but seeing him as someone who got over her death and it barely affected him is kinda a reading I can’t agree with at all

I know what scene started this reading it was the whole “actually I do enjoy hurting people this is my true self and I greatly thank Kristen for making me reach my potential” but that realization came from when he cut her up, no? When you go back to THAT SCENE he describes how the light vanishing from her eyes was beautiful. This means two things, one, he had to first known he was hurting her, and two he was enjoying that fact

WHEN YOU GO BACK TO THE SCENE WHERE HE KILLED HER THERES NO TRACE OF THIS IN THE ACTING THERE!!!!! He’s not even angry he’s more so desperate to explain himself, he even smiles as he tells her he loves her and would NEVER HURT HER! And when he realized he killed her he sobbed himself to the point of blacking out. Even if you brush off the fact riddler is very poorly written and just make it be ed the fact he blacked out and went out fucking around with her corpse while not remembering any of it and only hours later regained consciousness and now having to search around the gcpd to find her. Genuinely why should I believe a man, who consistently convinces himself he’s actually super smart and has no emotions is telling ME the truth here about his own feelings when I as the viewer have just witnessed things that contradict this!!!!

Also the show contradicts that whole motive like two episodes later!!!!!!!!!! When Oswald tried to kill Ed for saying his mother made him weak Edward discusses Kristen’s death and says love wasn’t meant for men like them and that it will always weaken them. Notice how different of a explaination that is to the one in the woods? The one in the woods basically says it was his true self leaking out and he actually had some awareness of what he was doing and he enjoyed every second of it and he feels no remorse. The one during this scene says that it was unavoidable, an accident, but actually him brushing over his feelings and forcing himself to not think about it or ever attempt to love again is the correct awnser. Doesn’t the second answer flow better with the actual death? It aligns exactly with both his narcissism making him unable to admit he was in the wrong and also unable to let him grieve since it would go against the idea he has of himself in his head and aligns with the fact it was a ACCIDENT WHERE HE DIDNT EVEN INTEND TO HURT HER AT ALL!!!

I can’t blame people for taking the whole actually I enjoyed it reasoning as the true one since Gotham is very very badly written but the reasoning he gave to Oswald works better for his character and for the event itself! The whole point of that death was you can hurt people without even trying to and not be able to see that ur acting like the people who have hurt them before it’s too late and that’s!!!! Powerful but Gotham just had to make Edward secretly evil and sadicist this whole time which takes away from that message. The first time he finally realizes Kristen was a person who existed outside of what he thought of and was capable of thinking and acting outside of his image of her was when she died, and he pushed her back into a fucking box, a fucking role she played to further him in his life because the mere horror of his actions were too hard to bare, he had to convince himself this would always happen and it was either of their flaunts to keep his ego intact.

not to mention how the whole denying he needs love in his life kinda relates heavily back to his npd too. Since he couldn’t get what he wants he feels terrible and then convinces himself that actually WHAT HE WANTED was the inadequate thing instead of him, so he doesn’t have to mourn the fact that he couldn’t have it. It’s projection in a way, he projects his inner wants and desires that he hates to others so he can mock them and feel better. He is telling himself he doesn’t need connection to others, that he can provide for himself and will never need or depend on anyone ever in his life again which is contradicted again and again in the show. He can’t stop needing people to like him, affirm him or to depend on them. That is the ultimate paradox with npd, narcissism in itself locks someone into a state of both being completely independent and not needing or caring for others while completely needing and depending on their praise so you can keep your self esteem intact

i think why I’m kinda quite against this reading of Edward as someone who intensely enjoys hurting others in his nature and is completely logical and almost unemotional in his action is because it kinda just falls into his lie he folds himself and others, it’s believing in the narcissist fantasy he has convinced himself and others around him to be true, he will never be that, no matter how hard he tries he will never be smart enough and unemotional enough for himself, he will chase proving that fantasy until he dies if he keeps doing this, taking anyone who comes in his way down with him

you can read Gotham Ed however you want idc I’m not ur mom and I’m not mad I just really wanted to explain myself since last time I tried to it was horrid and nonsensical I should’ve been executed on the spot. You can read Edward however you like I’m not thought police I just really needed to say my peace here

#gotham #edward nygma #rambles #character study #gotham fox #gotham 2014 #do not take this post as a actually Kristen was the one who did something wrong I literally make her cheat on this fucker in my rewrite #I just don’t like people making Edward clearly evil here it’s quite clear in the show he’s kinda intended to have psychosis in a way #hes not mentally stable and logical with his actions is what I’m saying here DO NOT BELIEVE HIS LIES!!!!#this post is also a sneak geek out about npd since I find it really really interesting it’s a personal hell someone puts themselves in #and they often aren’t even aware they suffer and burn in it #I have a lot of appreciation for self aware narcissists who are trying to get better it’s a hard disorder to live with #NURSE HES OUT AGAIN

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verity-hats-emporium · 2 years

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@levis-de-lumine

The fog was thick this early morning in Atrye, the people going about the beginning of their day as they continued to rebuild their country and make it a place they could be proud to call home. It had been around 300 years since the people had finally been released from the grips of the rampant violence and tyranny of the vile tyrant who had come to their home and destroyed their homes, eviscerated their culture, defiled their gods and their children, and turned the island into a living hell on earth. His name was not spoken of much of these days much to his dismay, instead filled with the disgusting praise and worship of the Gods who had rescued them from his grasp and laid him to rest at long last... Panteleimon the God of the Rocky Cliffs that littered the coasts and held the island up strong, Damianos the God of the Crashing Waves that surrounded the shores and provided the island with substance, and worshipped above all their son who’s name was almost always spoken with joyous song and dance, the people’s divine protector of the Atryian Shoreline, the God of Liberation Actaeus.

Iulius hated those names, especially the name of the little child he had taken to be his wife. The little child had accomplished something that none other had done before them, stopping the self made God from getting his way. All he had wanted was to enslave a single tiny village in his conquest of capturing all of Atrye to fulfill his deep pleasure of defiling the very creation of the God of the Sea and the Goddess of the Land had made together for their children and followers. Oh how he relished in destroying what others held dearest to them, and yet this single child had managed to stop him in his attempts to claim the lives of the small village, a little kid with unmatched magic ability and even secret strength he had never seen the likes of before. Was it jealousy, anger, or genuine fascination of that power and the child that drove him to drag that little kid back to his fortress to make it his plaything? He did not quite know what the answer was, but the more he toiled with, mutilated, violated, and crushed the very being of his toy the more alive he felt. He even managed to claim that power the little degenerate whore possessed for himself, a decision that would eventually lead to his downfall. “All my hard work, those twenty-five years I ruled these high cliffed lands surrounded by treacherous seas, it is almost like it never happened despite that petulant pest still sleeping despite me awakening. I can hear them below in the city they built in front of their tomb, singing their name and worshipping them as their return is to come any day now,” the man kicked in frustration a rock that was part of the ruins that was his fortress, his dear creation having been destroyed and left to erode on that fateful day where he’d at long last captured Panteleimon and Damianos, leaders in the rebellion against him. He had wanted to destroy the spirits of the two fathers who had for twenty-five long years battled against him to free their child from his hands, and so he had demanded his wife put on a show for the fathers to see, to see that their dear child was his to own and touch, to use and hurt as he pleased. Oh how foolish he had been, letting his guard down to watch them dance for him in that provocative manor that aroused him so. Before he’d realized what had happened the pole his wife had been dancing on came hurdling though his chest, and so their fight begun for all of Atrye to see “, Actaeus and everyone who watched thought they’d killed me on that day, but yet here I live after laying in wait as I took form once more to regain my strength. It took me a few hundred years to get my body back, but I am here to claim Atrye once more, and I will make that degenerate wail in agony upon waking up too, to see that their will to fight me was at a lose and always will be. Nothing will stop me, especially not Actaeus. Protector of Atrye, what a joke! That little kid couldn’t even protect themselves from me!” His blood boiled thinking about his wife, claws and fingers tightening as he scowled looking down at the people who were living life wife such pointless joy. Actaeus for whatever reason seemed to always win against him in the end, and he have had enough of it! “ Iulius will reign over you all again, and you will be mine my little filthy toy. You will never escape me.... You will always belong to me.”

#tw: abuse

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sugarcubedd · 10 months

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Rambling Devil Theory under the cut. Posting before (presumably) their real identity is revealed at Full Gear tomorrow.

TL;DR: I think, thematically, The Devil should be Jack Perry. He's mad that MJF had the audacity to have a face turn through the power of friendship after being the catalyst for Jack abandoning his friendship with Hook to turn heel.

Back in march of this year MJF confronted Jack in the ring. In an incredible monologue Max tells Jack that he has all the makings of being a champion and a worthy rival for him but is being held back by his friendships. Crucially, he also specifically says that he's going to be held back by his newest friend Hook, too.

"You just had to be the good guy for these people? Really? These people?" he says with disdain as he motions to the crowd outside the ring. "Where has being a good guy gotten you?"

At that point MJF was world champion and Jack... Jack was still just Jungle Boy. The gimmick name sounds silly when MJF says it like that. Just Jungle Boy.

"When I become world champion, at least I won't wake up alone every day and hate the person I see in the mirror." Jack says before the cameras cut out.

Then, several months later, after escalating brutality in the ring, Jack had his heel turn at Forbidden Door. He attacked his then tag team partner and only remaining friend, Hook, as they were heading backstage together after Jack's loss.

Jack then set his sights on the FTW championship. He won it from Hook at Blood and Guts in july but when he became increasingly unhinged and attempted to retire the belt in an elaborate in-ring funeral with a hammer Hook returned to stop him. After a brief fight Hook challenged Jack for a rematch at All In.

The All In pre-show match ended with Hook regaining the title followed by the now infamous fight between Jack and CM Punk. Both of them ended up leaving the the arena in disgrace that night. CM Punk was eventually fired for the incident while Jack was suspended indefinitely. Any storylines that had been planned for him were dashed - and as one of AEW's Four Pillars there were definitely stories planned.

But while Jack was having the worst time of his life MJF was experiencing a face turn through the power of friendship. At that same pay-per-view MJF fought his best friend Adam Cole and instead of turning on each other the experience only served to strengthen their bond.

So Jack was forced to sit at home and watch as MJF discarded his own advise about friendship to became more and more popular as a face. Despite still being an asshole Max now had the crowd on his side. He'd become the people's scumbag. And he was happier than ever.

Jack followed MJF's advise. He became selfish. He threw away his friendships. He put himself first. And this was where it lead: being miserable and alone.

I think this is when Jack, fueled by anger and frustration, snuck into MJF's locker room and stole the devil mask. He attacked Jay specifically to frame MJF. Then later he attacked the acclaimed simply to hurt people he saw as MJF's friends. He wants Max to feel cornered and alone.

And the timing works out! Shortly after The Devil was first seen there were reports that Jack Perry was no longer indefinitely suspended. The phrasing from a source at the time makes it sound like AEW was putting more distance between Jack and the fight while setting things up for his return.

Admittedly, this is where my theory breaks down. Jack has motive to do all of this but I can't account for the other four guys that accompany The Devil. For this to work the other masked assailants have to be hired goons and not other wrestlers because Jack doesn't have friends or a faction that would help him out. In fact, this theory hinges specifically on him not having friends.

But that's how I would have written this story if I were Tony Khan.

#AEW #The Devil #wrestling #MJF #Jack Perry

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themaresnest-dumblr · 2 years

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Final ‘Stranger Things’ Binge Watch Post - Season Four Done

What was the best part of season four of Stranger Things ?

Siouxsie and the Banshees’ ‘Spellbound’ at the end credits.

And if you ever wanted a metaphor of what an unwieldy over the top mess this last season was for the show, this was it ... 1986, the year Siouxsie and the Banshees’ ‘’Cities In Dust’ became their first significant US chart success ... and they didn’t even think of playing that instead as the cast watched the smouldering ruins of their home town belch plumes of volcanicesque smoke into the sky.

The 1986 spring break from hell season of Stranger Things not merely recycled the same old villains but the same plots.

With Will Byers trying to look so much like Daniel Radcliffe in the final Harry Potter movies so much it hurt, how ironically apt that in true Harry Potter fashion where everything is ultimately Voldemort, everything in Stranger Things is ultimately Big Vulva Into Evil Spooky World Of Bad Stuff opened by Evil Scientists in Government Conspiracy. Again.

Eleven - never the sharpest blade in the box, goes back to the Evil Scientists to regain her powers to beat The Big Bad. Big surprise, they double cross her and try to make her their forever lab rat again. Fancy that. Guys with no qualms about experiments on kids that put them into cardiacarrest, electrocuting them if they don’t behave, etc. can’t be trusted to keep their word. Whodathunkedit?

Meanwhile the Meddling Kids play the March On The Black Gates Of Mordor Diversion Gambit. Second Captain Obvious Plot Twist, the Big Bad’s knows what they’re up to and outflanks them. Duh duh duuuuh.

One mind numbingly elongated Perils Of Penelope Pitstop scene masquerading as complex villainous motivation explanation later, and the entire cast has died of old age waiting for their Impending Doom.

Well they should have.

Instead they kick his ass. Again. Huzzah - tea and muffins all round, chaps!

Inbetweem, there’s a bounty of ‘and let’s see who the fake phantom behind the mask really is, Scooby.’ moments interspaced with a thin veneer of the culture war against Dungeons & Dragons (largely the result of D&D creator’s Gary Gygax law court feud with Christian conspiracy theorists - Gygax’s viral attack against “those people who are looking desperately for any other cause than their own failures as a parent.” remains frightfully relevant ...).

An entertaining enough romp for the easily pleased or those who’d just like to f**k particular cast members, tortuous plot hole ridden drivel to the rest of us

... evil Dr Brenner returning inexplicably from the dead yet again

...Hooper breaking his own ankle to slip off his chains, then it miraculously reheals the next episode

... Max, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eleven all manage to survive being choked for ten solid minutes without getting so much as purple faces, which means either they’re the toughest breathplay pervs on the planet ...

... or Stranger Things cares only for dramatic moment after dramatic moment for their own sake, and couldn’t give a toss about stretching credulity past multiple breaking points.

Which may explain why they stretch matters throughout the series out to quite ludicrous lengths. The Hooded Claw was quicker in his attempts to displace Penelope Pitstop than The Master from Buffy The Vampire Slayer clone Vecna was with Max in the big finale - a mere near two and a half hours of three quarters of a hour’s worth of actual story.

Thereby lies the irony - Stranger Things copies all the tired villain tropes that Buffy mercilessly lampooned and trashed with iconoclaustic glee (at least in the first three series, until it also took itself too seriously), and not merely doubles down on them, but gives you the 12 inch remix, club mix, dub mix, etc.

And ceaseless plugging of that Kate Bush song ... the most inappropriately placed apocalyptic finale battle song ever. They may as well have had ‘Nellie The Elephant’ by the Toy Dolls or something by Barnie The Big Purple Walking Abortion.

Let’s not even start on the whole too silly even for Twin Peaks and Once Upon A Time ‘rescuing Jim from a Soviet evil science lab’ sideplot.

Oh, alright then,***Sigh! ***

Eleven’s fat stepdad is now thin on account of several months in a Gulag Health Resort, having somehow survived the explosion at the end of the last series which atomised everything else in sight, only to be captured by inconveniently instantly appearing Commie bastards, who all somehow manage to get away from the bombcrater where once a mall stood 20 feet above them, without the masses of American emergency services, rubberneckers or media noticing, and return safely to Glorious Soviet Union. At the height of the Cold War. Yes, really.

At this point, the entirity of the Upside Down World - lovingly stolen from Skyrim’s Apocrypha and repainted scary crimson - has become the most realistic part of the show. In some ways, that Kate Bush song was apt - like Kate Bush, Stranger Things’ writers have disappeared up their own arses.

This isn’t up there with Game Of Thrones or any of the other ‘epic TV’ shows it has pretensions towards. It’s not a matter of even having lost its way big time up the maw of its own over-complexities. It’s about being plain old common or garden daft and expectlng the audience to swallow it ‘just because’.

As for the cast, Robin undergoes a ludicrous character change and abruptly turns into an annoy yappy dog with the IQ of suet, any reason for Finn Wolfhard has now entirely disappeared (he still can’t act and puberty’s saw him fall from the ugly tree hitting every branch on the way down), and Lucas’ little sister - the Scrappy Doo of the show - still continues to live. Oh, and there’s the token W.A.S.P. bitch, the token crazy Ruskie, and the token latino stoner to piss you off. Eddie the Heavy Metal stereotype gets pass marks.

Will and Mike’s characters have become the leadless pencils of the show - utterly pointless and no conceivable means of sharpening them, whom the writers ought to have had the decency to kill off. Their underdeveloped characters are long passed the point they’ve any road left to run when even Lucas’ little sister now has more flesh to hers.

Thank plumbob for good old Dustin, Eleven, Tungsten Jaw Nancy and Mullet Steve - and a surprisingly strong (and critically underrated) series for Lucas, who doesn’t become the predicable Born Again Jock selling out his ‘uncool’ friends but sees right though his new buds almost from the start and Does The Right Thing to steer them away from the Meddling Kids at almost the cost of his life.

The only other real change between series is the overemphasis on Max - and it’s woefully obvious to see why.

Sadie Sink rolled a good D20 in her Puberty casting after all, and in the three years between seasons 3 and 4 came out hot just as the show’s originally ‘aesthetically pleasing’ draws of Noah Schnapp and Finn Wolfhard came out not. Which is the problem with any show with teens, never knowing which of the little buggers is gonna Matthew ‘Neville Longbottom’ Lewis on you without warning and turn into a Studmuffin.

Having lost their appeal to that target audience, the producers are changing tack and thus emphasis for some more conventional Tinseltown objectification. Remember folks, that spin off merchandise won’t sell itself, you know.

Having finished binge watching Stranger Things in its entirety these last few weeks, have to say it’s less a case of living up to its hype as believing its own hype. While the first two series were good, the last two are a real slog - and the fourth downright ridiculous at times. Can’t honestly say the prospect of that fifth, final series remotely enthralls.

#stranger things #noah schnapp #finn wolfhard #sadie sink #sorry but no thanks

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falseapostle · 2 years

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✥ Verses ✥

TW: Religion, cult activity, implied abuse, emotional manipulation

✥ Pre-Incident Verse ✥

This verse takes place from the time Haruto first appeared in Decaf's universe after his disappearance to the time right before he hurt Decaf and ran away.

At this time Haruto is in various states of regaining his humanity and clings to his angelic nature through the hivemind. He has a sporadically difficult time fighting his emotions.

Haruto tends to be rude upon first meeting unless he's in Decaf's company at the time. When Decaf is around he tends to try to be polite and suck up.

Early in this verse Haruto is simply around. Later in this verse Haruto is in a romantic relationship with Decaf.

Tag: #✥ i was always meant to serve the higher plane ✥ ➺ pre incident verse

✥ Post-Incident Verse ✥

This verse occurs right after Haruto tears Decaf's feather and runs away, but before he enters Queenie's universe.

Haruto is heavy with grief and shame and will often try to run and hide instead of interact.

Joshua has attempted to exorcise him, and so in this verse Haruto is completely severed from the Higher Plane. It tortures him.

Haruto is trapped in the UG and therefore cannot interact with the RG or living muses at all unless they have a sixth sense and can see him.

Tag: #✥ i cannot continue to hurt him. . . ✥ ➺ post incident verse

✥ Repentance Verse ✥

In this verse Haruto has been moved to Queenie's universe and served under that universe's Hazuki. He is the Producer of Shinjuku and runs both a church and a cafe.

Haruto is granted the power to access all planes in Shinjuku only, and therefore he cannot be seen or interact with RG or living muses in other cities at all unless they have a sixth sense.

Early in this verse Haruto is still heavy in his depression and shame. He has a hard time dealing with his lack of true religion and the abandonment he faces from the HP. Later in this verse he is much healthier, having found some comfort in interacting with book forums and running tabletop rpg sessions on chatroom servers.

Haruto is often a lot friendlier in this verse and will be polite to those he meets.

Tag: #✥ purebreds are the superior angels ✥ ➺ repentance verse

✥ Pokemon Verse ✥

Haruto was raised in a very strict household, literally born for the sole purpose of serving the original dragon, and subsequently the three legendaries that split from its form. It was a small and secretive cult, but Haruto was raised for absolute devotion.

Once Haruto was old enough, he took over as leader of the cult, and he began making changes within the structure to allow them to work more freely. He also found that their organization struggled with finances, and so he built a cafe to help support his religion. He worked only to protect the history of the legendaries, and to pray to them, and once he had gotten older he began to scout for a successor to his position.

He found Sanae Hanekoma on the streets, and he took him in, much to the other's disdain, and soon Haruto had him back on his feet. Though, once Hanekoma had recovered, he set up his own café and left Haruto entirely. While he couldn't use Hanekoma as he replacement, Haruto found he felt fulfillment in helping him to his feet and saw him off happily.

After Haruto lost Hanekoma, he moved away to a more remote area and continued his business, and it was then that the main events of Unova took place. Once the dust had settled Haruto found himself questioning his life, and he passed his work off to one of his congregation to isolate himself.

These days Haruto lives alone away from most people, full of the devotion and love that he was taught to have for his deities and nowhere to pour it. He still worships the legendaries privately, but he refuses to talk about the events surrounding them.

Haruto's team consists of:

Volcarona (shiny) Rattata (Kantonian) Absol Gardevoir Audino Shedinja

Tag: #✥ i wanted to see the face of god ✥ ➺ pokemon verse

#✥ whispers from the higher plane ✥ ➺ ooc #✥ straight from the hivemind ✥ ➺ psa #✥ there is a code you know ✥ ➺ rules #✥ i'm not interesting . . . ✥ ➺ hc #✥ i was always meant to serve the higher plane ✥ ➺ pre incident verse #✥ i cannot continue to hurt him. . . ✥ ➺ post incident verse #✥ purebreds are the superior angels ✥ ➺ repentance verse #✥ i wanted to see the face of god ✥ ➺ pokemon verse

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mlchaelwheeler · 2 years

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more crazy hours but what bothered me the most about mike's monologue being superimposed over el fighting vecna is that if you juxtaposition that scene to max's scene in ep4 of her fighting vecna's curse is that it's her own love that saves her, it's her love for her friends that motivates her and wills her to overcome his influence despite being suicidal. compare it to el's character arc where she's sacrificed her wellbeing to save her friends by learning to regain her powers and confront her trauma, which leads you to believe she's attempting to reclaim her life by making her own decisions. how does it make sense that to win she needed a boy to tell her that he loves her. especially from a boy who couldn't previously say he loved her until it really mattered, and his reason for not saying it is he was scared she'd figure out he's a boring loser 💀 both scenarios might be cliché but one has real personal empowerment for a character, the other is a bad YA trope.

The way that you're so right! Max escaped because she was able to think of her favorite memories all on her own. It's only when she thought of these herself that she was able to see Lucas/Dustin/Steve calling to her in the graveyard. It was Max all by herself that allowed her to beat Vecna and escape.

Yet with El, she isn't able to use her own memories (of which she has plenty: Hopper caring for her during S2-3, the party taking her in in S1, her moments with Mike, her bond with Joyce, her friendship with Max, sibling moments with Will and Jonathan, etc) and is instead downgraded to not being able to defeat Vecna unless she hears that Mike loves her.

Even though (as a byler shipper) I despised Mike's monologue, the part that disturbed me the most was that El was forced to become dependent on someone again. She spent all of vol 1 + 4x08 gaining independence and escaping people who held power over her, which should've led to a final showdown with Vecna in which she's independent enough to use her own strength and memories to defeat him. She could've drawn on the power of love (not romantic) in order to do this, since this is something Henry/Vecna never had. El has been shown nothing but love since she escaped the lab, so she should have plenty of memories to draw from. Yet, the narrative didn't give her this opportunity to use this sense of newfound independence and instead forced her to depend on Mike's feelings (which were actually Will's feelings for Mike, but I digress).

Mike spent vol 1 telling El that he thinks of her as a superhero, not that he loves her. Obviously, El doesn't want to hear that she's a superhero. She is well aware she has powers, and that's what makes her different. She just wants Mike to see her for who she is and love her for that. Instead, what does Mike say in his monologue? "You're my superhero." Like. ??? That's supposed to be comforting? Mike literally just recycled what Will told him and then repeated it for El. Half of it didn't even make sense with stuff we know/have seen from S1-2. The only thing that makes sense is if Mike is telling El what he thinks she wants/needs to hear to defeat Vecna and live, not what he actually feels.

Mike's monologue falls so short. He both reduces El to someone who is solely dependent on her boyfriend and brutally disses Will by saying the day he went missing was when his own life began. It's clear that those aren't Mike's real feelings, so I'm so confused why this monologue was so hyped up. It wasn't even good. It's clear Finn can deliver great monologues--look at the shed scene from S2! Now that is how you pull off an emotional monologue. What he said in vol 2 just felt so disingenuous and hurt both El and Will's characters, as well as regressing his own.

#as an el girly i was devastated that she was forced to rely on mike to beat vecna. that was so cliche and stupid imo #she just escaped brenner! she is independent! let her find her own love for others and channel THAT!!!!#sorry i have so many feelings about the monologue. and they're all negative bc it sucked so bad #eleven hopper #mike wheeler #byler #ask sarah #anon tag #st4 spoilers

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devildomimagines · 3 years

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MC Almost Gets Abducted by a Flying Demon

Hello~

You ever just have an idea that occupies your head and won’t go away until you write it? Yeah this was one of those.

You’re out with your favorite demon brother and some demon thinks it would be a good idea to try to take you away.

Warning for angst, injuries and kidnapping attempts.

Belphegor

The day had passed without event. Belphie and you were relaxing under a tree in the park.

You offered to go buy some drinks.

Although he was clearly comfortable, he offered to get the drinks instead.

You smiled as you watched him push himself up and trudged to the closest store. Who said he was selfish?

A few leaves had fallen on the blanket while you had been watching Belphie. You brushed them off.

As you waited for his return a couple more leaves fell. Annoyed, you brushed them off and looked up at the tree.

You were not expecting to make eye contact with a demon in the branches that was already watching you.

Before your mind could make a connection, the demon swooped down and grabbed your arm and leg.

“Belphegor!” You hollered as you clung to the branch with your free arm. The demon was strong and it felt like you would either lose your grip or be torn in half if this kept up any longer.

Belphie was back in a flash, he was already in his demon form.

He was looking between you and the demon trying to figure out what he can do when your grip on the branch faltered.

His tail shot out and grabbed your arm. The barbs bit at your skin but the tuft of soft hair at the end of his tail rested gently against your face reassuring as he moved you towards him.

Once close enough, Belphie grabbed your hand and arm and removed his tail.

The demon looked back to see what was happening and why they couldn’t make their escape. They locked eyes with Belphie’s glare and immediately dropped you to run.

Luckily you were closer to the ground now and fell onto the blanket, your arm still in Belphie’s grasp.

You tried to take a few deep breaths but when you looked up at Belphie, you just broke.

He sat down in front of you and hugged you to his body as your cries were released. Belphie whispered, “I’m sorry MC.”

He felt guilty having left you alone and then further hurting you with the spikes on his tail. The places that the demon had been pulling on you were already blooming into bruises. It reminded him of the time in the attic and his emotions are spiraling.

When he pulls away slightly to double check your injuries, you see his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill at any second but he was putting on a brave face for you. You tried to do the same in the moment, for him.

Beelzebub

The two of you had been walking down the street when an ice cream stand caught his attention.

You sat on the nearby bench waiting for him to return.

He was on the way back to you, his ice cream already finished and he was eyeing yours, maybe just a lick?

That is until he heard your scream. He dropped the ice cream to run back to where he left you.

You weren’t on the bench and his heart dropped into his stomach as he looked around.

You saw him from the air and howled, “Beel!!”

He instantly looked up and found you. Beel ran through the streets transforming into his demon form until he was underneath you and the demon. With a powerful jump, he was flying straight up towards you.

The demon was surprised at the speed that Beel was approaching. In a desperate attempt to leave with their life, the demon threw you to the side and escaped the other way.

You screamed as you started plummeting towards the ground.

Beel was fast and caught you before you could fall far.

You gripped at his clothes as tightly as you could, with hiccupping sobs you whispered his name over and over, “Beel, Beel.”

He hugged you into his body firmly, “I’ve got you,” he assured as you two lowered to the ground, his wings buffering the descent.

Once on the pavement, he placed you back on your feet gently and only pried you away to assess injuries. “Are you ok? Where does it hurt?”

You rubbed your eyes and face, trying to regain composure to answer but the sensation of Beel pushing you away hurt and made you feel worse.

He promptly pulled you back into a hug, noting your crying was worse than when he held you.

“I want to go home,” you finally requested.

Beel nodded and picked you up to carry you back to the House of Lamentation.

Asmodeus

Asmo was surrounded by a group of his fans.

These encounters usually didn’t take long. They would snap a few pictures, he might sign something he collaborated on, a few more pictures or videos and they would be on their way.

This was one of the times where you weren’t included, sometimes being a human was interesting enough to warrant a picture but today’s group only wanted Asmo’s attention.

This was pretty common so you didn’t mind stepping aside and waiting while he did his thing. You were secure enough to know he’d come back to you once he appeased his fans.

With the free moment, you took out your D.D.D. to check the time.

You two were still ahead of schedule so another moment for the fans wouldn’t be an issue.

That is until your snatched into the air. You dropped your D.D.D. in surprise and screamed.

Asmo was looking for you and spotted your form struggling in the air.

He was angry and the fans backed up a few steps when he changed into his demon form.

One bold fan tried to hold him in place for a quick picture and he brushed them off.

His attention was completely on you and he jumped into pursuit.

His wings were out of practice but he still gained on the demon.

You cried out for him and he tried to offer you a reassuring smile that you would be safe soon.

The demon looked over its shoulder at Asmo’s chase and when their eyes met, Asmo began charming them. “Release MC~”

The demon slowed and started letting you go.

Asmo swooped in and caught you as the demon completely removed its talons from your clothes.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Asmo began soothing as he flew as far away as he could.

“Asmo,” you whimpered into his neck.

“I know MC, I’m so sorry, that must have been really scary.”

He held you close all the way home and for a long time after.

Satan

You had been enjoying your time with Satan at an outdoor cafe.

He went inside briefly to get refills. As he was reminding the barista what you each had, he heard a commotion, broken glassware and chairs scuffing the ground, “another fight?” a tired employee asked.

Then you screamed Satan’s name. His breath stopped as he pushed people out of his way to get back outside.

Your table was on its side and you were fighting the demon that was dragging you along by your hair and an arm.

You happened to look back and found Satan. “Help!”

You didn’t have to ask, he turned to his demon form in a fiery flash. Most other demons vacated, no one wanted to stick around the warpath of Wrath incarnate.

His tail whipped the demon’s leg holding your hair. The demon screeched and released its hold.

The release was enough for you to throw your weight away from the demon, that and another whip of Satan’s tail had you freed.

You stumbled towards Satan and he caught you.

“You’re hurt!” he observed, scandalized and new rage bubbling. If you didn’t need medical attention, he’d be hunting the demon.

You were shaken. Your trembling hand went to the scratches and punctures on your arm and shoulder. Although it came away bloody, you didn’t yet feel the pain, “huh.”

“MC?” Satan asked, now worried about your lack of response. He started smoothing your hair while searching your eyes.

“Hm?” You responded but your eyes were glazed over, not really seeing him.

“You’re in shock,” Satan determined, “Let’s go home, ok?” He took your hand on the less affected side and began leading you.

“Ok,” you repeated.

About halfway home it started to hit you. Your legs got heavy, the pain in your shoulder and arm started throbbing, and tears threatened to escape your eyes.

When you began slowing, Satan turned to check on you. Your watery eyes and uneven breathing were dead giveaways your shock had worn off. “Come here,” he pulled you into his arms.

“Satan,” you whined, him being sweet was pushing you over the edge.

“I know,” He adjusted his grip and you realized he was getting ready to carry you so you jumped slightly to wrap your legs around him. “I was so scared,” Satan admitted, “I can’t even imagine how you felt.”

With his confession of being afraid, you broke down into a hard cry.

He held you tightly as he carried you the rest of the way home.

Leviathan

Levi had ducked into a store to check if they had the new release of a game. You stayed outside sipping your beverage and scrolling through your D.D.D.

You hadn’t even seen the demon until it had you in its grasp.

“Levi!” you yelled. Would he even hear you from inside the shop? “Leviiii!” You poured everything you had into your next, “Leviathan!!”

He rushed out from the store looking around for you in a panic.

“Over here!” you cried. You tried to undo the claws holding onto you.

The demon wasn’t flying very high, maybe to keep a low profile.

Levi ran through the crowd, gaining ground on you and the demon. He was already in his demon form and his eyes never left you.

As soon as he was in range, his tail extended and wrapped around the demon’s ankle holding it in place.

The demon struggled for a minute but decided you were not worth the head-on fight with one of the rulers of the realm.

The demon dropped you and you fell the short distance to the pavement, your legs weren’t ready and you collapsed.

Levi was in front of you in a second. You looked up to see he was flustered, angry, and searching you for injuries.

Your shoulders throbbed and your ankles and knees beat in the same rhythm but that wasn’t why you were crying. No, you were crying because, for maybe the first time in the Devildom, you were scared.

Levi wasn’t sure what to say but he couldn’t stand by and watch you cry. He crouched down and held you for a moment before picking you up off the floor.

You wrapped your hands around his neck seeking comfort in his familiar presence.

Your sobs quieted as he walked you two home. When the roaring in your ears died down, you could hear he was talking, maybe rambling.

You still weren’t in a mental place to make sense of what he was saying but you could tell his words were filled with love trying to distract you.

Mammon

It was flea market day, which meant the two of you were browsing the selection.

Mammon was fond of the flea market because, “Ya never know what you’ll find and one demon’s trash is another’s treasure.”

The stalls lined the street and Mammon flitted from side to side checking out the vendors.

He was totally in his element, bargaining prices and sifting through piles of goods.

You mainly walked along the middle path, maybe following Mammon up to a vendor if something caught your eye. Right now you were at a separate stall but still close by.

Unfortunately not close enough when a demon decided you were the prize of the flea market.

They swooped down and picked you up into the air by your waist.

The pressure made it hard to take a big gulp of air so your call to Mammon was too weak to hear over the crowd.

You tried to pour all your magic ability into your pact with Mammon to alert him.

It worked! Mammon was in the middle of the street looking around for you.

You tried yelling again, “Mammon!”

He looked up and locked on to you.

You never saw him turn into his demon form so fast. He was airborne in the next second.

The demon grunted when he realized he was being followed. They looked down to see it was Mammon.

When they made eye contact, Mammon growled loud enough, even from a distance, to show how angry he was.

The demon must have decided you weren’t worth the hassle and dropped you.

Finally able to yell at full capacity you wailed for Mammon. You landed in his arms.

“I got you,” he comforted as he watched the demon fly away. He wouldn’t let this go, no one steals his treasure.

At the sound of your crying, Mammon looked down at you holding onto his collar and hiding your face in his neck.

“I’ve got you MC,” he reminded, softer this time. He shifted you so you could properly hug him as he started towards home.

Lucifer

He looked away for only a second when someone called out to him. His grip on you loosened and then he let go as he dealt with the person who had drawn his attention.

It was long enough for the demon to swoop in overhead.

The shock took over at first and you were frozen as the demon’s talons clawed at your shoulders.

When you regained some semblance of recognition, you called “L-Luci-” but the demon wrapped its tail around your mouth to silence you.

You tried to get the tail off to try calling again when you caught his face in the crowd, slowly getting further away.

He saw you hold a hand out for him with the other still desperately trying to pull at the tail from around your head.

Lucifer quickly transformed into his demon form and jumped into the air.

The demon was quick, dodging between other flyers, and through architecture, they clearly had planned their escape to some degree.

The demon had not planned on how fast Lucifer was in the sky. He doesn’t usually fly around to get from one place to another but he had centuries of flight experience under his belt.

He was close, maybe five feet away. He could hear your muffled cries and could see the tears staining your face.

The rage and hurt you found on his face was unlike anything you had seen on his features.

Lucifer had caught up without the demon realizing, you gripped at his arms as he silently gauged how he could free you.

When you started crying harder, he opted for the straightforward answer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and grabbed the tail that was wrapped around your head. The flesh under his hand sizzled and the demon yelped. Instantly, the tail unwrapped your head and the talons released you.

“Lucifer!” You cried as he adjusted his hold on you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” Lucifer tried to calm you and his rage, it wasn’t directed at you but it must have left a bad taste for you to apologize. “It’s not your fault.”

“I, I,” but you couldn’t finish the sentence before breaking down once more.

Lucifer felt the tears fall on his neck and shoulder and it hurt as if his own heart was breaking.

He started towards the House of Lamentation silently. He couldn’t think of anything to soothe so he rubbed your back as he supported you in the air.

Once you had calmed enough to find your voice, you asked, “Can we go home?”

“Of course,” Lucifer smiled softly. His heart warmed to hear anything but your crying but especially that you thought of the HOL as home. “We’re almost there.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me angst #my writing

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 4 years

Text

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

#cr #critical role #cr meta #trent ikithon #caleb widogast #astrid #eadwulf #abuse #gaslighting mention #prim post #prim says some things #long post #he's a horrible and despicable person who's #used his power to commit massive harm don't get me wrong #but don't fall for overestimating him- he wants you to

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Ten

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence,

Word Count: 2K

A/n: Okay y’all THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH FOR 10K FOLLOWERS IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MCUH OMG Anyway ahem here is part 10 and I hope you enjoy! We’re gonna have a more intense part coming next but until then, enjoy!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

“We make for Asgard.”

~*~

“You look lovely. The colours of Asgard suit you well,” Thor says, his eyes raking over your figure from behind.

Adorning your body is a soft linen gown, the colour of cream. It is cut low in the front, a style Thor assured you is common in his kingdom, and has many different folds and layers to it, making it flow with every step you take.

The fabric itself is lightweight, and the straps lie thinly on your shoulders. The waistline is decorated with gleaming golden gems and is cinched rather tightly.

Over your shoulders is a dark red cape, the same colour as Thor’s.

Your hair is tied up away from your face intricately and elegantly, and a dainty diamond necklace rests around your neck.

You turn to face him, a deep feeling of unease settling in your stomach.

“What is to happen now?” You wonder aloud, eyes fluttering past his face and around the chambers that he’s deemed to be yours for the time being.

“Now we wait. The kings should be here soon, and then we will inform them of the letter you received. I promise you’ll be safe here, Petal.” He cups your cheeks and you swallow hard, nervous about the change in his attitude towards you.

“Thor?” You ask softly, taking a half-step backward in an attempt at removing yourself from his grip.

He surges forward, one hand dropping from your face to wrap around your waist as his lips crash against yours in a fierce and dominating kiss.

Your heart races in your chest and you shove against his face, trying to force him away from you.

Helplessness fills you as you realize that you’ll never be able to overpower him, and dread settles in your gut as he pushes you back until you’re pressed against the wall.

Your muffled cries for help, for him to stop, fall on deaf ears as his lips continue their assault against yours, prying yours open to give his tongue access to your mouth.

Thinking quick, you grip his bottom lip and bite down as hard as you can, drawing blood and successfully making him pull away from you.

He jumps back, one hand coming up to his mouth while you scramble back and away from him, chest heaving and eyes full of betrayal.

His jaw clenches and he takes a step towards you, only to stop when the doors to your chambers burst open.

“(Y/n)!” A familiar voice calls, two men rushing into the room and searching for you.

The tension in the room is palpable and the two Kings pick up on it instantly, their guards raising as they see the way you’re cowering from the blond King before you.

“Are we interrupting something?” Steve asks, his voice ringing with authority.

“No,” you say quickly, regaining your composure and squaring your shoulders as the words of the Valkyrie ring in your ears.

“Thor was just taking his leave,” you say pointedly, staring the King down for a long moment until he nods, bows then spins on his heel and leaves without a word.

You take a deep breath, power and fear chasing each other through your veins while your heart races in your chest.

“(Y/n), are you alright?” Steve asks softly, taking a step towards you and reaching for your hand. You yank it back towards your body, levelling him with a glare.

“If my purpose was solely to bear children, then why are you here if I failed?” The blond glances over at his husband, unsure of how he should address this.

“It is obviously not a secret. I have been threatened even since my departure, and the truth has been brought to my attention. So I ask again, why are you here?” James takes a careful step towards you, and then another, and another until he is standing just directly in front of you.

You keep your shoulders squared and your head held high, refusing to back down.

“(Y/n), there are things we must tell you... things we have not been completely honest about... things that involve our union, and our actions towards you. Will you allow us time to be honest with you?” You swallow hard but nod, wanting nothing more than the truth after all this time in the dark.

James takes your hand delicately in both of his and ushers you to the bed, sitting down beside you while Steve sits on your other side.

The brunet speaks first.

“We were told... by our council that we needed to find a wife. When they heard of our plans to join the two kingdoms of the North and wed each other... they tried to find any way to stop it. But upon seeing our power they relented until they realized that our reign would end if we did not have a queen.

“They gave us a timeframe to find a queen. One that could give us heirs and continue the lineage of both of us. We were presented with many women but you... you stood out from the many faces we saw.”

You frown, brows drawn together tightly as you ponder this.

“My purpose... right from the beginning was nothing more than what you had told me. What you said was true. What I was told is nothing but the truth,” you whisper to James, fighting back the tears that prick at your eyes.

Steve shakes his head, leaning closer to engage in the conversation. “No. Your purpose was... is to be our wife. A queen to our people and the mother of our children. You are meant to rule alongside us, not be behind or beneath us. You are our equal, although we have not treated you as such.”

You sniffle, shaking your head as if trying to shake your feelings away.

“Why have you treated me the way that you have? Why? What have I done to deserve such hostility?”

The two exchange long glances before James sighs and takes your hand, leading it to the thin scar at the base of his skull.

“Someone has operated on me. Altered me in a way that makes me hostile towards you and Steven. We do not know who, but we know that they are close enough to be near me without raising suspicion. I will never be able to apologize enough for my actions. I have hurt you far more than I ever could have imagined myself capable of. But with the help of doctor Banner, we were hoping to have more clues as to who is responsible for this. However, he is still in quite an unstable condition.”

You swallow hard, this new information having you beyond overwhelmed.

“Who would conspire against you in such a way? Who would have such hatred in their heart for the two of you that they would take it out on me?” The two kings sigh, their hearts heavy and their eyes filled with sadness.

“We do not know. But one thing is certain: we will not rest until we figure out who it is and until they are brought to justice.”

~*~

The two Kings settle in the guest chambers for the night, having insisted that you get your own space and that you are welcome to join them if you feel so inclined.

Your mind is still in shambles, thoughts scattered and emotions all over the continent as you prepare for bed.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts and you softly call for them to enter, your guard raising in an instant.

“How may I help you, Your Majesty?” You ask, jaw clenched tightly.

Thor takes a deep breath then lets it out, pacing slowly around your chambers.

“I stepped very far out of line, (Y/n). I let my emotions get the better of me and I was foolish. I apologize sincerely for my actions.” You watch him with furrowed brows, not sure if you should trust him.

“You have... entranced me. Bewitched me. Your husbands have not treated you fairly and, even in the short time that I've known you, I can tell that you are a woman deserving of the world. And if the world cannot be given to you then you deserve everything in it. And yet here you are, cowering from your own kingdom because they failed to protect you.” You want to interrupt. To tell him that he is not aware of the extent of the trauma that the Kings themselves have faced, but you hold your tongue instead.

“I can only hope that one day you will be able to forgive what has transpired today. For I value your company and your companionship and I would be devastated to lose it in any way. However, I will not blame you if you were to push me away. I was out of line and I allowed myself to be weak in a moment when I should have been strong. You needn’t give me an answer tonight, but I am offering my sincerest apologies. While you are here the Palace is yours. Anything you require will be brought to you promptly.”

He’s quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, his eyes on the ground.

“I bid thee goodnight, and I hope pleasant dreams find you tonight.” He turns to leave and you sigh, shaking your head.

“Thor, wait.” He does, turning back to look at you with those soft blue eyes of his.

“I appreciate and accept your apology. I do not look at you any differently because of what transpired, and I am grateful that you came to explain it. I appreciate your friendship and I am glad to have found solace in you, and it would be a shame to squander it over something so trivial.” He smiles, relief and happiness plain as day on his face.

“Good. Thank you for your understanding, (Y/n). Goodnight.” He leaves without another word and you put your head in your hands, beyond confused and frustrated with the feelings stirring inside of you.

You would be lying if you said that the Asgardian King wasn’t attractive. And he has been a friend in times when you’ve otherwise had none.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts out of your head, you exit your chambers and pad softly down the hall, stopping in front of the chambers that have been set aside for your husbands.

You knock twice, butterflies finding a home in your belly as you wait for one of them to allow you entrance.

The door gets pulled open and James stands in front of you, the formal look on his face dropping to give way to a soft smile.

“May I join the two of you tonight?” You ask quietly, looking between him and Steve. The blond looks on eagerly from his spot on the bed, nodding his head quickly.

“Of course, My love.” You bow your head in thanks and enter the room, oblivious to the eyes following your every move from a dark corner of the hallway.

The door shuts behind you but you continue to the bed, crawling on next to Steve while James extinguishes the lanterns lighting the room.

Steve makes room for you in the centre of the bed, pushing the blankets aside to allow you to get comfortable. James climbs on behind you, waiting until you’re settled to get comfortable himself.

Neither of the Kings touch you. No, they stay a respectable distance away.

“I am not so angry that I will not allow my husbands to embrace me,” you say softly, eyes closed as the events of the day catch up to you.

You’re then being held on either side by strong arms and right then and there, in that very moment, you feel the safest you have ever felt in your life.

#dark!bucky x reader x dark!steve #Stucky x reader #stucky x reader royal au #bucky x reader royal au #Steve Rogers x reader royal au #dark royal au #dark fic #tw dark fic #tw dark content #stucky/reader #Stucky x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark au

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Helpless (3)

warnings: misunderstandings, spiders/arachnophobia, mild violence

Halfway through the woods, Patton heard the distinct sound of someone mumbling.

He paused mid-step, tilting his head to listen with a fair bit of curiosity. The mumbling was quiet enough that he couldn’t make out any individual words, but he could more or less tell which direction it was coming from.

Whatever the source was, they sounded a little frustrated.

He hesitated. Virgil was always emphasizing how careful Patton needed to be in the woods, though how much of that was due to actual danger and how much was the drider being a worrywart over Patton’s ‘chronic inability to defend himself’, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, this didn’t sound like a dangerous wild animal, so it would probably be okay to take a little detour and see what the matter was!

He followed the noise off the trail into a thick copse of trees, eventually coming upon intricate silvery threadwork that wound between them. He was proud to say he only barely shuddered as he ducked past them, his fear of spiders mostly overcome by his affection for his friend.

The webbing got thicker the further he went, and eventually he came upon the source of the mumbling, which appeared to be a whole person, stuck against the outer edge of one of Virgil’s larger webs.

They looked up upon spotting him, eyes bright for a moment before taking him in and visibly dulling with disappointment, which, aside from sorta hurting Patton’s feelings, seemed an odd response for someone in need of help.

“Hello there,” he greeted, waving. “My name’s Patton, I live over at the nearby town. You seem to be in a bit of a prestickament!”

“No, I did this myself,” the stranger corrected, already looking past Patton with disinterest. “It is an attempt to meet with someone I would like to speak with, and they seem the skittish sort, so I would appreciate it if you moved on.”

Patton hummed, more than a little confused. Something about this seemed familiar. “What are you going to do if this person doesn’t show up, though?”

“My arms are free,” they responded, frowning at Patton’s persistence as they wiggled the fingers of their free hand demonstrably. The other hand was occupied with a worn-looking journal. “I will be able to eat and drink, and thus am in no danger.”

“My friend says these woods can get mighty cold at night,” Patton countered, undeterred. “Can’t you meet your friend in town, instead? Why does it have to be a drider’s web?”

And, oh, that was it! Virgil had just been telling him the other day about someone who’d gotten stuck in one of his webs just like this, a mage who had been all-too-delighted to see him. Patton had hardly registered how they’d met, since he’d mostly been very upset to learn that some people would try to use his friend’s body parts as potions ingredients.

“That’s because the drider is the one I’m hoping to speak with,” the stranger replied, as though it should be obvious. “I sincerely doubt they would appreciate an invitation to town.”

Patton stared at the little notebook for a moment, and abruptly put the pieces together. This must have been the stranger that freaked Virgil out so badly!

And he was lying in wait in one of Virgil’s webs… In that case, there was no way he could leave things like this.

“I don’t think the drider is around,” he offered cheerily. “Sometimes they migrate to different areas for different seasons! You won’t meet anyone while hanging around, so I’ll help you down!”

He circled around the tree where most of the webs were rooted, approaching the stranger’s edge of webbing, and found to his surprise that they really were stuck. How they planned to ambush Virgil while stuck in a web, he wasn’t sure, especially since the gambit hadn’t worked on the first attempt either. Magic, maybe?

“How do you know that?” the stranger asked, craning to look at him with sudden interest. “About drider migration cycles.”

Patton shrugged as he plucked at the threads of the web, testing each one to see where they led. “I’m a good listener, so I pick things up here and there. What do you do?”

It seemed to be the right question to ask, since the stranger perked up, distracted from his inquiry.

“I am a researcher,” they informed Patton. “I’m seeking out information on the more reclusive creatures that live in these lands, like driders! This is the first one that I’ve met in person, so if they’re leaving, I need to catch up right away.”

Patton slid the sheath off of the little paring knife he’d taken to carrying and started sawing at one of the threads. “Are you going to try to capture him?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could. “You know, for your research.”

“I’m not a bounty hunter,” they replied indignantly. “The behavior of any being would be unnatural and stilted while imprisoned, especially a sapient one. My research is meant to increase humanity's understanding of driders, not to put them on display for entertainment.”

Patton blinked at them, slicing through another strand. “You… aren’t looking to hurt them?”

“No!” They honestly sounded offended by the idea. “I don’t think I ever could, anyhow, the one I met was very large, and they would likely be able to incapacitate me without any trouble.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Patton asked, remembering the terror that had swept through him during that first encounter, when he’d thought the drider was a giant creepy crawly death dealer. Even after he realized, when Virgil yoinked him with his two front legs, Patton had been a little nervous.

“People are only scared of what they don’t understand,” they informed him, chin lifted stubbornly, “and I know more about driders than any other human. I don’t see any reason to be afraid.”

“Wow… You’re really passionate about this, huh?” Patton grinned as he sliced through the last of the support webbing, and with a few snaps, the researcher fell to the ground, only a few strands of silk clinging to them.

“Of course!” they replied, pausing to pull some of the softer webbing bits off of himself and folding them into a pocket of his bag. “The information compiled on them is often vague or outright misleading, and due to their reclusiveness and occasional aggression, nobody else has been able to correct these false accounts.”

They paused, studying the woods around them. “I am… uncertain on how I’m going to discern which area the drider has chosen to migrate to. I don’t suppose you have any idea?”

Patton patted their shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. I think there’s a friend of mine you should meet properly.”

—

“Virgil!” Patton called brightly. “I’m here!”

He had been leading the way through increasingly dense and shadowy foliage for a fair while, now. Logan glanced up from their connected hands to see exactly where he was being pulled to, his heartbeat picking up in speed despite the possibility that this was a cruel prank or even a mugging.

Sure, Patton had described the drider that he’d met a couple of days ago quite accurately, but that was no assurance that he was actually familiar with the being. Most of the townsfolk seemed peripherally aware of ‘Virgil’’s presence, after all, so Patton could have glimpsed him before. It seemed more likely than them being friends. Driders were notoriously solitary, and ‘Virgil’ had seemed quite averse during Logan’s encounter with him, after all.

There was a crack from above, like a branch snapping.

In the next moment, a heavy weight had dropped down from above, knocking Logan to the ground and forcing all the air from his lungs. As he gasped futilely, he realized there were two hands pinning his arms to the ground, and some very familiar fangs put on full display, mere inches from his face.

“Leave him alone,” a very angry drider demanded, his regular voice layered with harsh, gravely rattling.

Logan wheezed in response, absently noting that there were multiple small black eyes visible against the dark marks under the more human set of eyes and wondering just how the two different ocular sensory organs overlapped.

“Virgil, stop!” Patton’s hands appeared at the edge of Logan’s vision, pushing back against Virgil’s shoulders until he eased up, lifting his crouched spider half up only slightly, as though prepared to lunge at Logan again at any moment. “He’s fine! He won’t hurt you!”

Virgil’s glare finally flicked away, though it turned more bewildered-angry than murderous-angry once landing on Patton. Logan wasn’t sure, but he thought the smaller eyes remained locked on him. “This is the mage I told you about! It’s not safe, you need to get out of here--,”

“Mage?” Logan asked, his voice still coming out a little winded. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s not,” Patton said at nearly the same time, “I promise, he just wants to know more about you! Right, Logan?”

“I’m certainly not a mage,” he agreed, rubbing at his arm. The full force of a drider grabbing him… that was going to bruise. He wondered if there was a way to measure that power. “I’m not sure how you got that impression, I don’t have any of the tools mages often carry.”

Virgil looked back and forth between the two humans with clear consternation, and Patton was the one who answered. “Well, most people are afraid at just the sight of him. And… you weren’t.”

“Of course not,” Logan said, still trying to grasp the connection between his lack of fear and his alleged magehood. “I was enthralled. He’s very beautiful.”

Above him, Virgil made a choked-off noise and shuffled back, giving Logan space to sit up and regain full faculty of his senses. Virgil had turned his face away, and Patton was muffling a smile behind his hand.

“Was that… invasive?” Logan asked hesitantly, glancing between the two of them. “I apologize, this is my first research voyage, so I may have become... over-enthusiastic.”

Virgil flapped a hand at him, as though trying to physically dispel his words. “What exactly does a ‘research voyage’ entail?”

Logan straightened up, trying to look as professional as possible while still sitting on the forest floor. He suspected there might be detritus in his hair. “It’s a journey undertaken by apprentice-level researchers to expand their knowledge in their specific field. Often, once they have thorough evidence and a compelling thesis, they will return to their teacher and present this in order to advance as a journeyman.”

Of course, Logan had no intention of doing that. He was going to spend as long as he could traveling and learning and compiling his knowledge, until nobody could argue that he wasn’t suited to the world of scholars.

“And your field is… spiders? Monsters?” Virgil asked, eyebrows raised dubiously.

“I am attempting to correct the misconceptions that are so rampant in bestiaries,” Logan corrected. “So many depend on them, but I’ve found very few actually capture the intricacies of the cultures and habits of nonhuman magical beings. They read more like old wives’ tales, passed down and warped with time, and both the scientific community and the beings in question suffer for it.”

“Huh.” Virgil tilted his head slightly, and Logan realized that at some point his smaller eyes had closed, the dark creases vanishing amidst the pockets of shade under his eyes.

“That sounds like the bestiary way to help people!” Patton added, and Logan watched in disbelief as Virgil’s expression relaxed further, the drider snorting softly.

“So all I’d have to do is… be a drider in front of you?” he asked, one of his back legs tapping against the ground in a remarkable imitation of the way a nervous human might tap their foot. Logan nodded. “I guess… it could work. And it’d be nice to have someone else around who won’t scream at the sight of me.”

“New friend!” Patton cheered, looking perhaps more delighted at the idea than Logan’s presence really warranted. “Only the spidaring are cool enough to be friends with Virgil.”

“Is the wordplay going to be a regular thing with him?” Logan asked, his face pinching sourly.

“Better get used to it. He’s punstoppable,” Virgil replied, grinning toothily when Logan shot him a betrayed look. Logan thought he seemed pleased, going by the subtle twitching of his pointy ears.

Logan hid a small smile of his own. Perhaps following Patton wasn't the unwisest decision he'd ever made, after all.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #arachnaphobia tw #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #drider #drider au #my writing #helpless #writing #am i missing tags?

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solarwonux · 4 years

Text

Needy || Joshua Hong

fratboy!joshua x f!reader

w.c: 3.5k

warnings: angst a little, smut, car sex, unprotected sex, dirty talking, friends with benefits to lovers, breeding kink if you squint, fluff

note: Happy Birthday Joshua hehe. I hope you guys like this one let me know :)

masterlist

You awake?

The bright light of your phone made you squint as you read over Joshua’s text, a suppressed yawn falling out of your mouth.

I am now.

You sat up on your bed, blinking rapidly trying to regain your vision while attempting to read the time. Three in the morning. You sighed, the cold air conditioning hitting your naked arms making you shiver.

Joshua rarely texted you, if it wasn’t to meet his needs. Sexual and all. And in turn you did the same. It was part of the arrangement the two of you had concocted one Friday night over a half-finished research project, a few drinks and a one-night stand.

It worked.

That was until your feelings for him grew into something more than sexual. You wanted him—no you needed him in every way possible. You wished he would cave into you instead of keeping you at arm’s length. Scared of how his frat brothers would view him if they were to ever find out he was fucking around with a girl in his Women in Literature class. He ignored you. Acted as if you didn’t exist, flirted with other people in front of you, jabbing knives into your heart repeatedly. It hurt you, but you always had to remind yourself that your feeling’s weren’t part of the deal.

You hated him and yourself for letting him treat you in such a disgusting way. For feeling desperate and insecure enough to let him use you in every possible. Until, he showed up at your doorstep with a lustful glint sparkling behind his soft eyes. And you’d fall on your knees worshipping the ground he walked on as if he were Aphrodite’s son.

Every time he came and left you swore that it would be the last time, knowing very well you were lying to yourself. Your feelings for him haunted you, they stayed at the back of your mind as you tried everything in your power to keep them locked away in a wooden box.

Joshua Hong was addicting.

An addiction you never wanted to recover from not matter how much it hurt you. He was like sweet poison running through your veins and you’d bust your lip on the venom he dispensed over and over again in order to keep him close. Your need to feel his body close to you was far greater than your unwanted feelings and another failed love affair.

Let’s go for a drive.

Joshua tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. The chill driving playlist he had put on sounding through his car speakers, while he waited for you outside of your apartment. His impatience getting the best of him, contemplating on whether he should honk his horn or not. But seeing at it was nearing four in the morning he decided against it.

He sighed and rested his head against his window. He was exhausted, but every time he would close his eyes to welcome sleep, his thoughts would start up again. He hated thinking because every time he thought his doubts would seep in. They surrounded his entire body and made him want to scream out into the void. He was frustrated that he had feelings for someone. Feelings that were so strong that occasionally would threaten to break the surface. He wanted to confess but he couldn’t bring himself to confess because he was scared that they would see him for who he was.

A coward who was too scared to admit he was in love because he feared it.

“You’re gonna open the door for me or leave me stranded out here?” Joshua jumped, your forehead pressed up against the glass of his car window. He could tell you were tired, the bags underneath your eyes were prominent, and your face was flushed and little bloated. He felt bad for waking you up, but he needed to see you. He needed to feel your calming presence by his side because despite the relationship the two of you had. You were the only person that could make him feel at ease.

He unlocked his car door, watching you yank it open and get it. “What’s up?” You grabbed his jacket from the floor and put it on top of you as if it were a blanket. It was useless but it kept the cold air at bay.

“Nothing, put on your seatbelt.” He took his car of park and backed out of your driveway. You rolled your eyes reaching over for the seat belt and put it on. “Something’s wrong but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You shrugged leaning back in his passenger seat and rested your head against the black leather.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Reasonable.” You yawned, bringing the jacket up to your neck. “You can go to sleep if you want, I just didn’t want to be alone.” Joshua retreated his hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh giving it a squeeze. You gazed over at him, taking him in just like you did whenever the two of you were together. The dark blue of his bangs tickling his eyelashes keeping his eyes hidden from yours.

Joshua tightened his grip on his steering wheel, his thumb caressing the outside of your clothed thigh. He knew you could tell something was bothering and he wanted to tell you, to open up and finally let you in. To give you a free pass to break his heart. To let you walk all over him while he succumbed to your touch, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you see what he kept hidden inside because he couldn’t lose you. At least not yet.

“Don’t do that you’re going to draw blood.” Your thumb ran over his chin, tapping on his bottom lip that he had been chewing on since he started driving. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss against the pad of your thumb. Your body felt hot and you retrieved your hand, hiding it again with his jacket. He moved his hand from your thigh and put it back on his steering wheel. The heat of his touch going missing making you feel cold again.

You yawned; your eyes felt heavy. The soft melodies that played from his car radio getting louder than before and you only assumed that was Joshua’s way of silently telling you to stop talking. You turned your eyes away from him settling on the view of the open road. The stillness of the early morning heightening your feelings for him or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Either way you found yourself wishing you had never fallen for him.

“F-Fuck,” Joshua gasped running his length over your wet slit. “You’re always so wet for me.” He mumbled pressing his head against your clit making you shudder against him. The cool air of the ocean breeze hitting your needy bodies making the two of you more desperate than before.

You knew that when you agreed to go on this drive with Joshua, he would end up driving to the spot on the beach the two of you frequently visited on sleepless nights. You knew he would ask you to help him remove the sunrider roof then sweet talk you into accompanying him to the bed of his Jeep. Where he had a plethora of blankets set up, creating a makeshift bed, claiming he wanted to watch the sunrise with you. And you knew you’d end up underneath him begging for him to give you what you wanted. What you needed.

Tonight, was no different.

Joshua had lured you into his love shack with his charming looks and soft smile. He had let sinful words escape his lips. A knowing look etched on his face, while he watched you wither next to him, untouched. He had worked you up slowly, kissed your neck gently instead of marking you up like he usually did. He had taken your clothes off showered your body with kisses, lingering on the parts of your body you hated the most, showing them love. Showing you, he was present with you and in tune with your body.

The soft waves crashing against the beach shore were forgotten, along with the rising sun against the horizon and the morning dew film that had started to stick on to your flushed-out bodies. Nothing else in the world mattered but the pressure you felt in between your legs and your delicious heat wrapping around him, engulfing him in until he bottomed out. His head falling into the crock of your neck, whispering sweet nothings against it while he started to fuck you slowly.

“Y-You feel so good, so w-warm.” Joshua kissed you, feverishly, swallowing your moans. His soft lips whimpering against yours. “I want to be inside you forever.” His hips moving against yours slowly, making sure you could feel all of him inside you. His hands found your back and pushed you against him, chests heaving against one another’s. You arched your back, gripping the blankets underneath you. Your moans bouncing off the windows of his cars, mixing with the sound of ocean waves.

This was a sight you were all too familiar with. A sight that played in your head whenever the two of you were apart. A sight you craved for constantly wondering when he would call you up again to use you for his selfish needs. This sight however felt and was different. He had taken his time, showed you that he knew how your body worked. Joshua had prioritized your pleasure over his and it sent warning flares through your body, because it felt like a goodbye.

“I want you to cum with me.” Joshua grunted his hand snaking in between your bodies searching for the little bud of pleasure. His thumb hoovering over it, the suspense had you withering, begging for him to touch you the only way he knew how. You whimpered feeling the ghost of his touch, your fingers tweaking at your nipple, sending a rush of pleasure through your body. “J-Joshua, mmm, I-I need to cum.” You pressed your chest into you hands, watching as his face contorted into pure bliss, his thrusts getting sloppier, his thumb finally connecting with your clit and rubbing slow figure eight, constrasting the speed of his thrusts. You gasped raising your hips rocking against his hips and hand, feeling the sweet coil start to build up.

“Go on angel, cum around my cock. Let me feel you.” He groaned finding your free hand and interlocking your fingers with his. You clenched around him. Your orgasm getting nearer, until it wasn’t. Until Joshua evilly slowed down his thrusts, pressing his thumb forcefully onto your clit, sending a jolt through your body. “J-Joshua please.” You choked out digging your finger nails into the back of his hand. He smirked pulling himself out of you fully, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Gonna let me cum in you baby, fill you up until it’s spilling out of you.”

“F-Fuck, yes Joshua…whatever just fuck me.” You said the desperation lingering in your voice. Joshua hummed in response before ramming himself into you a broken whine falling from your lips. His thumb on your clit again, your body convulsing with pleasure as you felt yourself come undone around him. Choked out moans leaving your lips as he continued to thrust himself into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while chasing your high.

Joshua panted wrapping your leg around his waist, the head of his cock pressing into the soft velvety spot making you cry out. “J-Joshua t-too much.”

“It’s okay baby I got you…always.” He leaned his body over you, his warm chest resting against your flushed one. He brought his free hand moving the falling strands of hair away from your face. His eyes boring into yours, whispering silent praises until he finally spilled his seed inside you, filling you up to the brim. He hid his head into your neck biting down, your heat continuing to clench around him, milking him out.

The remnants of your orgasms overwhelming the two of you. Pants echoing against the roar of the ocean waves, your chests rising against one another’s while you tried to recover from your highs.

Joshua raised his head, a satisfied smile playing against his lips. “Thought this was just a drive.” You said moving his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. He shook his head chuckling, sitting back on his knees pulling himself out of you. “You should know by now that I can’t hold back when it comes to you,” His hands holding your legs open as he watched his cum fall out of you, a pleased groan slipping past his bruised lips.

“So sexy.” His palm landing against your thigh making you yelp out in pain. “You’re such a guy Joshua.” You rolled your eyes trying to close your legs, fighting against his grip. He reached behind finding the t-shirt he had been wearing and cleaned you up. His grip faltering once he was finished. You sat up on your elbows watching him clean himself up. The sun had now started to fully rise casting a golden hue against his body, accentuating all the parts he hated but you loved about him. You felt your heart tense up, a simple reminder of your unrequited feelings for him. You let out a frustrated sigh falling on your back, taking in the bright hues of the morning sun.

Joshua moved and laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist resting his chin against your shoulder. “You alright?” Worry lingering in the back of his voice and you wanted to push him away but keep him close at the same time.

“I’m all sweaty and sticky.” You lied, protruding your bottom lip out and turned to face him. He smirked pulling you closer to his body, wrapping your thigh around his hip. His growing length toying against your swollen folds. “We have an ocean right in front of us.” He whispered his lips finding your neck making you sigh. “Let’s use it to our advantage.” Joshua smirked against the shell of your collar bones. The ringing in your ear from your last orgasm still lingered, but you found yourself needing him once again.

“What if a morning jogger walks by?” You pressed your chest closer to his, his lips nipping on your skin. His hands moving down to your ass and kneading it, the growing beads of his precum falling onto the skin of your mound.

“Then we’ll give them a show.” He bit down, a whimper running past your lips. And you found yourself hating the effect he had on you for the third time that morning. But just like you needed him he also needed you and that terrified him beyond belief.

Joshua wrapped a towel around your wet naked body and placed a kiss against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. “How are you feeling?” His index finger ran down the side of your cheek taking the water droplets that had fallen from your hair with it. The morning sun had finally finished rising, waking up all life on Earth reminding the two of you that soon it wouldn’t be just the two of you anymore.

Joshua’s heart hadn’t stopped palpitating since you got into his car that morning. His stomach erupted into butterflies whenever he had held you close throughout the immoral escapades the two of you had engaged in all morning. He never wanted to let you go and now as he looked down into your glittering eyes with the heat of the golden sun rays hitting your sensitive bodies, he found that he couldn’t picture a life without you in it. You were a light in a world filled with darkness, where his demons would get the best of him.

When he was with you, he felt like he could let himself go and stop hiding behind an unrealistic image he thought he needed to keep up. An image that had girls and boys at his feet until he got what he wanted. He had used this to his advantage and for the most part it worked, until he met you.

To him you were a free spirit, who found comfort in the stillness of the night underneath the glimmering stars. You never took no for an answer and despite your insecurities–ones he wished he could make disappear forever, you always confidently kept your head held high. From the moment his eyes landed on you a spark of electricity erupted inside of him, warning sirens sounding at loud volumes in his head because from that moment on he knew he was fucked. You had ignited a fire inside of him, one he never wanted to blow out. And even though he wasn’t sure if your feelings for him held the same weight as the ones he had for you. He didn’t care because if anyone was going to break his heart, he was glad it would be you.

“Joshua Hong are you there?” You waved a hand in front of his face. His eyes blinking rapidly as he saw the ghost of images appear in his line of sight due to looking into the sunlight for longer than usual. “Sorry, what did you say again?” He grabbed a pair of khaki pants from the gym bag he kept in the back of his car.

“I asked if you wanted me to be honest with you?” You joked sitting down on the bed of his car, holding the towel tightly against your body. You watched as he stumbled back and forth while trying to put on his pants, a low laugh escaping your lips. No matter what it was Joshua always had a habit of making things harder for himself. An observation you had discovered early on in your friendship and somehow you found it incredibly endearing.

“Always…I always want you to be honest with me.” He smiled leaving his pants unbuttoned then reaching over to grab a colorful button-down shirt, eyeing you closely as he slipped it on. “I’m sleepy, hungry and a little sore.” You crossed your legs, a cool breeze blowing making you shiver slightly.

“If that’s the case then I have a proposition for you?” He smirked closing the gap between the two of you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Get dressed, I’ll buy you breakfast at the diner by your place and then we can sleep for the rest of the day.” Joshua leaned his face forward and placed a chaste kiss against your cheek. He pulled away, retreating his hands from your body, watching smugly as the heat rushed through your body.

“Wait…together, sleep all day together. Like you and me at my place on my bed…sleeping?” You moved your head to the side raising a curious brow. “Mhm, I mean I could just drop you off and go home, but it’d rather be with you. I can sleep on the couch if it makes you uncomfortable.” He shrugged leaving the last three buttons of his shirt undone, his toned chest peeking through and if you weren’t so sore, tired and confused you would’ve initiated a fourth round.

“No, it’s fine you’ve been in my bed in more ways than one it’s just that you’ve never wanted to do anything other than have sex.” You removed your towel and reached over to grab your t-shirt that had been hanging off the headrest Joshua’s eyes following your every movement, taking in your glowing body, proudly eyeing the marks he had made on you before they disappeared underneath your shirt.

“I have another proposition for you then.” He stuffed his shaking hands in the pocket of his jeans, keeping them away from your line of sight. His nerves getting the best off him and his doubts came crashing down like a wave, making him overthink once again, until he felt your hands against your cheeks. “You’re filled with a lot of propositions, today aren’t you?” Your smile shinning brighter than the sun, making his heart skip a few beats.

He swallowed thickly basking in your afterglow taking his hands out of his pockets. “Be my girlfriend?” He whispered your eyes growing wide and your breath sped up. You blinked rapidly trying to determine whether you were dreaming or not. But the hopeful look behind his soft eyes brought you back down to Earth and you let out a nervous laugh. A pout forming on his face, his hands settling against your waist, while you hid your face in his chest laughing.

“This isn’t funny I’m dead serious.”

“I’m it’s just I’ve only dreamt about this, never expected it to come true.” You whispered your hold on him getting tired and you felt his body shake with low laughter. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who had fantasized this.” He spoke his arms snaking around your body, burying his face into your hair taking in the salty smell of the ocean.

“Yes.” You mumbled after minutes of silence. “I’ll happily be your girlfriend.”

#kpopscape #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen joshua #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanficiton #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen aus #joshua hong smut #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong fanfic #joshua smut #joshua imagines #joshua fanfic #Joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

quirk mastery

— In which Mirio gets his quirk back and he’s desperate to show you just how well he’s remastered permeation.

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pairing: togata mirio x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, pwp-ish, semi-public sex, clothed sex, anal, size difference, finger sucking, fingering

word count: 4,021

a/n: day three of kinktober and here we be!!! this was based on the concept of mirio being the perfect candidate for have clothed penetrative sex LMAOOO. make sure to comment (even if its a simple emoji) on any fics you like, authors super appreciate it.

main kink: anal

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To be quite honest, you never thought Mirio was going to get his quirk back.

You remember when it happened in high school.

The cold fall morning as you had woken up earlier than usual for a school day, deciding that maybe you should get a cup of tea given that it had been cold and something just felt off.

Nearly three years ago, when you had arrived through the doors of UA as a hero student, you had taken your seat in class 1-B, and almost immediately, your class became your family. Everyone was so talented, lively, and brimming with their own excitement of being here, but one person always just seemed to be brighter than the rest.

His smile captivated the first moment he looked at you, his blue eyes so precise and accurate you knew immediately he was someone to trust.

His name was Togata Mirio, and true to his sunshine hair, his own sunshine personality allowed the entire class to address him by his first name within hours of meeting him. It was no surprise that you felt your heart skip a beat when he placed a strong arm around your shoulder later in the year because you had fallen for your classmate.

As a third-year, you still harbored deep feelings for your classmate and now best friend. But you knew better than to enact on them at the moment. You were busy with your hero work, and his latest work-study with the former All Might’s sidekick kept him busy nearly every day.

He would still be there once you graduated, you always liked to remind yourself. But as energetic as Mirio was, he definitely was not an early riser. So it shocked you that as you reached the dorm's kitchen area, he was standing there quiet and fully dressed in his school uniform. His eyes were concentrated on his phone, and his face was serious, for a moment, the off feeling you had seemed to make sense as you stared at his solemn face.

“Mirio?” you had called out, suddenly feeling a bit underdressed in your pajamas, and you held onto your elbow as you stared at your flirt of a classmate. “You okay? We still have an hour and a half before classes start.”

It seemed that he had not even heard you enter the room based on how he startled just the bit before turning his gaze towards you.

Blue eyes murky with regret and guilt. You hated that they weren't clear, and you always hoped they would be cleared soon.

“I’ve got my work-study today,” Mirio answers with a soft smile that doesn’t clear his eyes. “Something came up, so I'll be gone for the morning. We’ll probably be back before classes end today.”

You nod your head, already knowing who belonged within that we.

“Are you doing okay? You’ve been looking a bit… uh, worse for wear, and I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re distracted by other things,” you admit, venturing further into the kitchen so that you leaned against the opposite side of the counter of where Mirio stood.

The smile on his face grows just a bit, a small spark dazzling in his clear blue eyes before he shakes his head good-naturally.

“You admitting you care about me?”

“Have I ever denied it?”

Mirio laughs softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck before a heavy sigh passes his lips, “I guess not.”

You keep the frown off your face at those words, his inability to flirt back slightly concerning, but you stop before you can frown. By the front door of the dorms is none other than Tamaki and Nejire from class 1-A, two other close friends of yours, and equally involved in this case of theirs that they all refuse to tell you about. Guess that’s what happens when you join Edgeshot’s agency.

Mirio follows your gaze and motions to your friends that he’ll be joining them in just a moment before he turns back to you.

“Well, looks like it’s time,” Mirio speaks with finality, his shoulders as stiff as his smile, and your heart aches just the slightest bit.

“Be careful, Mirio,” you say firmly, your eyes locked on his that have become emotionless. That pit in your stomach is unignorable as you speak up on your concerns. “I know you’re strong, but please be careful.”

Mirio stills for a moment before he nods, and he walks around the counter. His arms stretching out, pulling you into a tight hug that you more than willingly return. It seems like the two of you stand there hugging each other for centuries before Mirio makes a soft noise in an unwilling attempt to tell you to let go.

“I know, I know,” you sigh, pulling away, your eyes meeting his for the millionth time. “You’ve To-gata go now.”

And for the first time in weeks, his blue eyes clear up, and a proper genuine laugh breaks through his lips as he shakes his head, already walking away.

“You’re pretty amazing, y/n-chan!” he shouts as he opens the front door, and you can hear Nejire calling her hellos to you. “I’ll be back before you can even blink!”

“You better!” you call out, waving at your three friends who bunch up and walk off.

As you watch their retreating backs, the pit in your stomach remains as you whisper softly: please.

It’s within twenty-four hours that you find out the case they were working, and you feel sick when Mirio doesn’t return, confirming to you that he was the one to have lost his quirk that day. When Mirio returns two days later, it’s not with good news as he admits to you that he’ll be leaving UA now that his quirk is gone.

His eyes are clear again, not at all like he was two days ago as the two of you seem to only be talking to one another within the crowd of both class 3-A and 3-B. It’s later once everyone is gone that he admits that a young girl who was responsible for his quirks erasure could potentially bring it back, but it’s unknown at the moment.

You remember holding his cheeks and promised him that even if it doesn’t come back, he would always be a hero who, in the end, did what he set out to do, saving a million people. It was almost shocking to you as you watched for the first time since his teacher died in front of him, Mirio crying yet again, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

But that was five years ago.

Five long years of being a Pro Hero in a society that no longer looked the same.

Three years of finally being able to call Mirio your boyfriend.

One year of organizing the current hero gala, the two of you are attending right now.

One month of Mirio finally regaining his quirk.

In a heavily watched attempt, Eri-chan, who had been able to figure out a way to train her quirk. It was all due to the help of a young yet brilliant support engineer, Hatsumi Mei, without having to interact with real soul-having things. It took almost ten hours, but the young girl was both resilient and determined as you watched as she sat with her fingers pressed to Mirio’s cheeks and a warm yellow glow surrounded her.

The shriek that ripped through you when Mirio suddenly fell through the floor, your initial fear of Eri completely rewinding him from existence flaring in your chest, and undoubtedly hers as she gasped in horror. You watched his clothes dropping from where he once sat, and then you could hear the familiar, distant sound of Mirio being rejected by matter, and you bolted at Eri. It was a frantic team effort response to make sure Eri would not see him in his naked glory when he resurfaced, and that memory still sent you in a round of uproarious laughter.

But a Heroes Gala was something that was occurring recently, and it wasn’t quite what it had once been before. Pro Heroes were not recognized within these events; instead, the common man was, and more importantly, helping those deemed as outcasts within society. With the reign of AFO gone, and the destruction of what the heroism did to society, it had been a weird shift in energy, but a needed one.

Pro Heroes Deku and Ground Zero being the trailblazers on that front, pushing to look at the reasons the world deemed villains as so, and doing their best to fix it at the source.

It definitely wasn’t perfect, far from it actually, but these galas helped to keep energies high on many different fronts.

Speaking of high energy, if your face was able to emit heat energy similar to that of a sun, right now, you would be a supernova.

Located in some hallway in the back of the event, you sat on a marble table. Your legs somehow wrapped around Mirio’s waist, arms thrown around his neck, pressing his gliding lips even closer to you as he enthusiastically, carefully, and completely dominated your lips. To the rest of the world, it just seemed like the two of you were simply indulging into your horny twenty-three-year-old needs. There was nothing conspicuous about what you both were doing, not if your clothed states had anything to say about it.

But that was just the thing.

Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, the large, voluminous skirt of your evening gown easily covered Mirio’s powerful, thrusting hips, blanketing his ulterior motives with fabric from the rare eye that managed to come and look at the both of you.

Maybe if they had x-ray vision, they would know the truth; they could see it too.

For not even five minutes ago, you had teasingly whispered just how hot Mirio looked in his get-up. Your teeth nibbling on his earlobe about how excited you were that when you two would inevitably get home, his clothes would be gone in a matter of seconds. It seemed that your boyfriend wanted to jump the gun and just show you what both of you had been missing these past three years.

You could barely keep up with his quick, long strides. Your heels caught onto the length of your gown multiple times until he had brought you into this hallway and picked you up without so much of a grunt and planted your bottom on the exceptionally sturdy table. It still hadn’t hit you just what he had intended to do when his lips crashed against yours, and the world exploded into white static as he kissed you, consuming your mouth with every fiber of his being.

A gentle moan left your mouth when his tongue entered your mouth, but the prominent, hard bulge pressing between you and the many, many layers of fabric made you yelp. You pulled away from his lips, your eyes, wide, impossibly frantic.

“Togata Mirio!” you hissed in shock, your hand slapping across your mouth as you simply stared at your lover who was smiling at you brightly.

The smile and the clear blue of his eyes let nothing indicate just how fucking hard he was and how much he craved your cunt around his cock just as you had teased him about earlier.

“What is it, sunflower?” Mirio asks, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. Your spine stiffens up as he leans in close, his mouth pressing against yours for a small, seemingly chaste kiss before he presses the corner of his mouth to your ear. “I think I’m having some issues with my quirk control, and I think this is the perfect way to practice the uh… fine-tuning of my quirk. Right?”

“Mirio…” you warn as he softly begins to grind against you, his large hand shifting from your shoulder blades down to your lower back. The pressure of his hand provided such numbing heat to blaze through your core, and it only added to the feeling of his cock against your slowly seeping cunt.

“Dontcha want to help me practice?” Mirio asks, his teeth biting onto your earlobe, and a wanton moan reverberates from your chest at the feeling. “Help me master my quirk again?”

You’re not sure what makes you cave, what makes you say fuck it under your breathe. It could have been the heat of his breath on your ear, the way he kissed down your jaw, the clear blue of his eyes glazing over darkly with lust, and maybe it was the way you could manage to feel his cock through the miles of fabric between the two of you. It didn’t matter now anyway, it couldn’t because you turned towards his face, your lips desperately seeking his, and thankfully Mirio met you there immediately.

Hot desperate mouths clashing together, tongues meeting in the middle, and you could feel his hands shoving you towards him until there was no space between your meeting hips if you ignored the dress and his pants.

Your hazed over mind chanted to be ready for anything, to be prepared for the feeling of his cock against your already soaked cunt, and to not be surprised. Nevertheless, when you felt the hot, heavy, and stupidly thick head of Mirio’s cock pressing between your desperately needy folds, going against all of your brain's logic of how this shouldn’t be possible with your panties still on.

“M-Mirio!” you cried, head knocked back at the feeling of his cock pressing through your tight, clenching hole. His cock thick, veiny, and hot, even in your inner walls as he kisses you. You couldn’t focus on him, your mouth agape and lax, his lips pressing against your teeth, tongue curling on the roof of your tongue, and you wantonly moaned as he shifted outwards and slammed right back into you.

For the past three minutes, the two of you had begun this desperate, needy, over your clothes public fuck. Your hands feeling so small, pressed onto his back. Your mouth biting into his neck as he slammed into you over and over again.

The heat in your stomach was throbbing, the soft thrumming of your orgasm about to tip as Mirio claimed you like this.

“So cute like this, baby,” he laughed as if his cock wasn’t stretching you out despite all your clothes still being on. You felt his cock head press up against your cervix, and a loud pathetic whine stumbled out of your lips. “Did you like that? Finally, got to that little spot you like despite this angle?”

He hit it again, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all noises that so desperately wanted to be heard getting cut off.

“Look at you! You’re so cute like this, sunflower! You can’t even look at me, and you’re babbling! I think I’m doing great… job… at this, fuck, quirk control…”

Your eyes flutter shut, a gasping, needy breath expelling into his mouth as he kisses you greedily, and the heat grows exponentially when his hand permeates through your dress to pinch and pull at your clit. You’re so close, so deliriously near that, you begin to seize up, your walls fluttering with the actions that you know mean that you’re about to nosedive off a cliff into orgasmic bliss.

But there were always issues with having sex in public with a man who could not shut up.

“Togata-senpai, Y/l/n-senpai!” A voice yells at the two of you. Even with the thrumming warmth of your pre-orgasm, the voice washes coldly over you. Rippling the start of orgasmic bliss right from beneath your feet as you snap your head away from Mirio.

A loud, choked gasp escapes you when for a split second, his cock disappears from your clenching, denied cunt in an experience you could not begin to explain.

“Iida-kun!” Mirio exclaimed jovially as if the two of you weren’t at all fucking moments before, but as he did so, he seemed to deactivate his quirk on his cock.

“What are the two of you doing here! It is quite preposterous for the two of you to be… canoodling within the gala when we are all awaiting your presence!” Iida exclaims, his hands cutting and chopping at the air as he seems to frown at the both of you.

But you were busy with other thoughts.

With his cock completely solid back inside of you, tears were leaking from your eyes as white, hot pain erupted in your stomach and curled all the way down into your toes.

Mirio returned his cock into your ass, and the lack of any warning due to his quirk nearly had you throwing up in this new sensation. Your fingers curled roughly into Mirio’s shoulders, your ragged breathing “I’m-in-so-much-pain” breathes alerting both of the men before you who turned their attention to you.

“Are you okay, sunflower?” Mirio asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he brushed a tear that managed to streak down your cheek. “What’s going on?”

“Yes, what is going on? What can I get for you, Y/l/n-senpai?”

“It h-hurts!” you cry, eyes locking onto Mirio’s, who seemed to gather just what was going on as his eyes grow with worry and also knowing actions.

He shifted slightly, and his cock that was already so big moved within your ass, and you balked. You leaned forward onto Mirio’s chest, feeling absolutely dwarfed by your boyfriend as you held onto him with trembling arms and soft groans of pain and growing, intense pleasure.

“Ah, Iida-kun, would you mind if you could possibly give us some room? I promise we’ll join the gala in less than ten minutes?”

You can’t even see Iida’s reaction given that your eyes are leaking with your tears and the fact that you can’t even raise your head to look at your old younger-classmen.

“Of course, I’ll leave y/l/n-senpai to you, but if anything happens, please come and get me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you!”

Your sniffling doesn’t seem to stop as Iida’s loud footsteps confirms his exit, but Mirio’s mouth is by your ear again, his hips taking a tentative, shallow thrust that sends you whining like a bitch in heat. Anal was something that Mirio loved to do. He always confessed to you each and every time as his cock would line up to your muscled rim that there was just something indescribably hot about you taking his cock that way.

Mirio was a big dude with a bigger cock, and you usually could, in fact, handle — thoroughly enjoy — anal with the proper steps to lead into it, but this was a cock appearing in your ass without warning or knowing of it happening. You could feel your tears streaming down your neck, but bubbling moans of pleasure had already started again. The pain of the surprise was already wearing off by the time Iida had disappeared, and Mirio was once again shifting his hips for your best pleasure.

“God, I can’t believe you took my cock in your ass that calmly,” Mirio whispers in pure admiration, his hips taking longer, deeper strokes into you. “That was so fucking hot, I’m sorry I lost control like that.”

“S-Shut up…” you gasped, hands fisting into his coat as you tried to ride out the waves of pain instead. “Fuck m-me already.”

The laugh that seems to grow right from Mirio’s stomach makes your skin crawl as he nods his head, his hands grabbing your chin to stir you into a kiss as he begins to thrust into your asshole with much more daring conviction.

“I always forget how much you like this!” he sighs against your lips. “Always so ready for my cock no matter where it is.”

You whimper loudly, teeth burying into your lower lip, the slick from your cunt slowly gliding down to his cock, allowing for partial lubing.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed. Even without him being a hero, Mirio had kept himself in pique condition, and moments like this proved it. His fast rutting and delirious power into every slam of his cock into your ass was commanding and revolutionary. Your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole, your mouth pressing back into his neck, sobbing his name. His fingers dive down and permeate through your dress and panties, and you swear you’re drooling when his calloused, hot fingers tweak and pull at your clit, savagely teasing it.

Mirio laughs softly at the way you’re trying to hide your cries of pleasure. How you’re burying your head into his shoulder, teeth biting into his clothed skin. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more consistent until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

He was—

Holy shit—

He was making sure you could feel his once concealed balls against your skin and the warbled, shameless scream that he interrupted by shoving his fingers in your mouth.

“More,” you beg around his fingers, staring straight up at him. Your saliva coating his fingers, lips sucking around his fingers in hopes that he’ll heed your command. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Mirio merely groans the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck awkwardly and pathetically against his cock and balls because of the table. And he began to barbarically slam into you so that the soft thudding of the counter hitting the wall shudders down your spine.

Your body shifts with his every movement, the counter rocking with the force, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your tongue. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand that had been playing and teasing your clit shifts so that his thumb resides on your clit, and three of his fingers curl into your throbbing, orgasm denied cunt. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision still blurred with tears when his fingers drag against your puffy walls that you knew would let you squirt if he manipulated it just enough.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your heat radiating walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, pleading to make you come.

“You needa come, sunflower?” Mirio huffs, his sweaty forehead pressing against yours, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was also close. “Then come for me. Come against my cock and my fingers!”

“I-It feels so fucking good, so good baby,” you garble. Your jaw is unable to move for its slack against his shoulder. Your cooes only adding to the electrifying pleasure singing through your nerves, and with a loud squelch from your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, your ass instinctively tightening up at well.

You could feel the more foreign sensation of wet heat fill your ass as Mirio collapses against you, his heart hammering in his chest as the two of you just sit there. Your hands shifting to thread into his soft, fluffy hair as his limp cock disappears from within you, and you groan at the loss of feeling.

“Gross…” you mumble as Mirio stands straight up again after some time.

“Wha—”

“You came in my ass,” you sigh, although not at all displeased with it.

“Oh, sorry! I got a bit overexcited!”

It takes an additional three minutes for you to be willing to move to return to the event, but as you do, Mirio has an arm around your waist, readying to keep you upright all night if needed.

“Ne, Mirio?” you call as the both of you return to the main stage.

“Hm?”

“I think you’ve pretty much mastered your quirk again!”

#togata mirio x reader #mirio x reader #mirio smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

The Instructor - Part 4

Summary: Agent Walker continues your training.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: smut, Dom/sub dynamic (m Dom, f sub), dégradation kink, praise kink, slapping, rough sex, orgasm control, I think thats it?

Authors note: Not beta read, only edited by me. There will be errors, my apologies.

Masterlist

Part 3 Part 5

The Instructor Part 4

August took you to the surveillance room. The operation had the whole ninth floor to work from, you didn’t know how the CIA was able to pull off such a requisition, but you knew not to ask questions. Chances were, even August didn’t know how that was done.

Agent Thomas was there with two other Agents and although they were both men, they were so opposite in nature and appearance you wondered how they could possibly work together. One of them seemed to radiate constant joy and good humour, while the other seemed dour and uninterested in anything. You receive a handshake and a welcoming smile from Agent Ortega and got a short nod from Agent Turner. Despite August introducing you by your name, since Agent Thomas had beaten you to them, your name was New Girl.

Apparently, there were two more Agents you would meet when your shift finishes. The number of Agents on this case struck you as odd. Six agents plus August all in the field seemed overkill for any simple surveillance case. Four should be more than enough. Hell, you could probably do it with three.

Ortega was the agent you would spend the next 8 hours with, and you were relieved. You were confident you knew how to do your job, but since this was your first field assignment, you were nervous and Turner made it worse.

So did August, if you were honest with yourself. You found yourself playing with the golden circlet around your neck a lot and chided yourself for bringing attention to it. It was meant to be discreet but if you constantly played with it, eventually someone would notice. You frequently found your concentration lapse and you would focus on August instead of your job. He was becoming an obsession, he invaded your mind constantly. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, anticipating your next visit or, remembering your too few encounters.

During one such daydream, you caught Ortega staring at you, expectantly. You quickly realised it was because he had spoken to you but you hadn’t responded. “Sorry,” you say. “I tend to get really focussed on my work and block out other sounds.” You lie smoothly. Ortega waves away your apology and repeats the question.

You enjoy your time with Ortega, he was friendly and warm without being lecherous. Perhaps his simple wedding band helped to put you at ease. He doesn’t offer information about his partner and you don’t ask. You both eat a lunch of sandwiches made in the kitchen and while the work doesn’t stop, you and Ortega start chatting and you find yourself growing more comfortable with him. Even though he calls you New Girl, he doesn’t treat you like a rookie and you found your confidence increase as the day went on. You even found yourself sharing jokes with him.

However, an hour before your surveillance shift finished, August came back to the room requesting an update. As he comes in the door you were smiling, still getting over a laughing fit with Ortega. Although he shows no obvious reaction, you notice a slight tightening of his jaw. You keep the smile plastered to your face as you look away, but you know there isn’t a hint of a smile in your eyes.

August checks in with Ortega who reports the day’s events. He leans over Ortega’s shoulder resting one hand on the desk while the other held one side of a pair headphones up to his ear as he listens to some audio. You can feel August’s gaze boring holes into you, and you can almost hear him say, “Look at me, Pet.”

Slowly you raise your eyes and look at him. You had to smother a gasp. He wasn’t just staring at you, it felt like he was stripping you bare with his eyes. The fire is his blue orbs was scorching with desire. His gaze holds you captive, and you know if Ortega sees what was taking place, your secret would be out. Scandal at this point in your career would mean you were chained to a desk for the rest of your life, if you didn’t quit in frustration, which was usually what most people did.

But August doesn’t take pity on you, he knows the risks too and doesn’t avert his gaze. He licks his lips, drawing attention to his mouth. With a leering look he mouths, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you tonight, Pet.”

You make a strangled noise and Ortega looks up at you started. “You ok, New Girl?” he asks.

You reach down and clutch your foot, slipping it out of your shoe. “Yeah,” you say, hiding your face while you rub your foot. “Just a cramp.”

August ignores the situation and keeps listening to the audio. You avoid looking at him and he leaves a few minutes later. Even after he is gone, you still feel your ears and cheeks burn and you doubt you will be able to regain your concentration. Then you receive an email from August that simply reads “8 pm.” The rest of your shift is a write off.

Not long before eight pm you stand nervously outside August’s apartment. With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You feel tipsy, you can’t think straight, you’re giggly with nervousness and your legs are unsteady, ready to betray you at any moment.

“It’s open,” you hear August call from inside.

You take a deep breath in a useless attempt to settle your nerves and open the door. You see him sitting at his dining table reading from his laptop and nursing a tumbler of what looked like gin or vodka. He didn’t get up, just flicks his eyes up as the door opened, saw it was you and flicks his eyes down again.

“Lock the door,” August says and you do as he asks.

He is wearing his suit pants and button up shirt, but he had taken his jacket and tie off. His sleeves are rolled up and a few of the top buttons on his shirt are open and you can see tufts of his dark hair on his chest. His hair is still impeccably groomed, but a five o’clock shadow dusts his jaw. Even without the suit, he exudes authority, from the set of his jaw, to his posture, the only thing casual about him was his laxed attire.

“You’re early again,” August says. You still can’t tell if he thought being early was a good thing or not. Until he said otherwise you would continue to be early because you were sure August wouldn’t tolerate tardiness.

You half shrug in reply, but don’t say anything. You realise you hardly say anything in front of August, he intimidated you more than else did. He made you nervous in a way that was so intoxicating that you found it hard to even think of anything you wanted to say. Unless, he asked you a question, then you can hold nothing back. Perhaps it was because you know there is no one in the world that has more power over you than he does.

“Take your clothes off, pet.” August says, still not looking at you. “All of it this time, except your stockings and heels.”

You try to swallow, your mouth feels dry, but you don’t hesitate to obey, his tuts of disappointment that morning still lingered in your mind. Your hands shake as you undress and fold your clothes neatly. You aren’t sure why you feel like its important to fold your clothes, maybe it was because even when August was relaxing, he always had an air of clean order around him. Like he needed things to be just so. However, you know that’s not completely true, you have seen the chaos dance in his eyes, the thin veneer of civility he wore like a skin suit couldn’t hide all of his primal urges and tendency towards recklessness.

“Come sit next to me,” you hear August say the second you had folded your underwear and placed them on top of your clothes. You didn’t think he had been watching but he must have been, because even now he seemed to still be focussed on the screen in front of him. You feel a little silly that you had undressed like you would have at home, you didn’t even try to make it look good for him.

So, you make an effort this time, to show him you want to please him. You let your hips sway just slightly as you walk, the movements feel natural, yet seductive as you near him. You pull a chair away from the table but August stops you, putting his hand over yours. His fingers are warm on your skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

“Not there,” he says.

You walk around to the chair on the other side of him, but August stops you again. “Not there.” He looks at you, then with a small movement of his head and a smirk, he indicates the floor. “On your knees, pet.”

You’re shocked and before you can stop yourself you say, “On my knees?” You look at the rug under the table. It was fairly plush looking and soft so your knees wouldn’t hurt. You wondered if he wanted you to take him in his mouth again, you couldn’t think of another reason he would want you on the ground.

“Yes,” August says, with little patience, but his smirk holds. He must find your bemusement funny. “Now.”

You slowly sink to your knees next to August, you feel a little humiliated, but you are curious to see where this was going. August lets out a content hum as you obey. The sound makes you smile and you look up at him, his smirk now looks more like a smile and he pats your head. “Good girl.” He praises. All thoughts of humiliation left you as those two words warm you. August places his large hand on the back of your head and guides it to his thigh.

Again, you’re confused, until you feel his hand stroke your head. He pats you, soothing himself as he finishes his work. He occasionally lifts his hand to do some typing and you find yourself watching his hand impatiently until it is returned. Occasionally he touches your collar, running his fingers along it, as if reminding himself that you as his. Sometimes his fingers slide up and down your back, with long tender strokes that make you break out in goose bumps and when he makes you shiver you hear him hum with satisfaction.

Eventually you hear August give a big sigh and he stretches his neck before closing the laptop and moving it out of the way. He takes a last swig of his drink before putting it aside as well.

“Pet,” August says. You look up at him and he gives his head a little jerk again and you stand up. He looks you up and down, his eyes seem critical as he inspects you, but you know he likes what he sees because his tongue licks his lips before he bites his bottom lip.

August guides your leg over his and you stand in front of him now, your legs on either side of his and your bottom rests on the table. You feel exposed while he continues to study you, and you want to close your legs as you see his eyes linger on your bare slit. You know he would see the slick wetness of your arousal, you could feel it on the inside of your thighs. You close your eyes, a little embarrassed by your obvious display of desire.

August starts to run his hands over the outside of your thighs, hips and waist and back again, while he leans in and kisses the soft skin of your belly. You involuntarily giggle and your hands reach for his head as his stubble tickles at your sensitive skin. Still smiling he takes your hands in his, pulls them behind your back and holds both of them in his huge paw. He returns his kisses to your tummy, but this time they are bigger, wetter and you can feel his tongue lick at your skin as he does. You try not to wriggle, you try and hold still for August, but his teasing touch is too much and you find yourself squirming as he plays with you.

Between kisses he says, “I think its time I got to know you better, Pet.” You feel the heat rise in your body and you feel your heart beat everywhere. God, he has barely even started and you were so ready for him. “Time I explored you.” His eyes looked up at yours as his tongue slid up your body and over your nipple briefly. He held his face in front of your breast, letting his breath tickling your hard bud. “Time I tested your limits.” He takes you in his mouth, sucking on your nipple, and letting his teeth graze you, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Looking up at you August’s voice is suddenly serious, “If you need me to stop, say Red.”

“Red to stop,” you repeat, letting him know you understand.

Letting go of your hands, August lifts you by your waist and sits you on the table. “Lay down, pet.” He says, pushing against your shoulder. He lifts your legs so that your heeled feet rest on his thighs. You moan, and want to draw your knees together, but you feel his hands on the inside of your thighs pushing them further apart. You are completely on display for him, you can hide nothing as he continues spreading your legs. You shut your eyes, tight. Your mind and body were in conflict. You were on fire, hot with lust and need, but your mind wanted to say no, to stop, you couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“Spread your lips wide for me, pet. I want to see your cunt dripping wet for me.”

You shake your head, you can’t do that. It was too much. Already so exposed and naked, the thought of holding yourself open to him was too humiliating. “Please August,” you murmur “I can’t.”

The loud smack against your breast takes you by surprise. You hear the noise before you even register the pain. “August,” you cry. Your hands reach up, covering your breasts, and you try to rub the sting away.

“Hold yourself open. I want to see inside you.” August’s voice is low and firm, not angry, just stern. You lift your head to see him, he tilts his head and his whiskered lip curls in a cruel grin, almost like he was daring you to say no again.

Laying your head back on the table and squeezing your eyes shut, you move your shaking fingers down to your slit. You’re so wet and so aroused you struggle to hold your swollen petals apart. You hear August’s breathing start to quicken and his voice is barely above a whisper as he says, “Good girl.” You feel a finger slide teasingly over your exposed core and despite your shame your hips roll in desire. “You have such a pretty wet cunt, Pet.” His finger sweeps up your slit, his rough pad pausing on your clit. You gasp as he does, and a low moan escapes you parted lips.

August chuckles, “You’re very responsive, Pet. I like that.”

His finger moves back to your entrance, and with agonisingly slow movements he pushes his finger into you. You feel yourself clamping down on him already, you’re so desperate to be filled. Your hips start to rock as he curls his finger inside you, searching for your spot.

“Oh fuck,” you cry when he finds it, you unconsciously try to curl up into a ball as every muscle in your body contracts. Your hips move faster now, and you eagerly beg, “Please August.”

“You are an impatient little slut sometimes, pet,” August says as he lays an arm over you, stopping your undulating hips. “I think patience will be your next lesson, but lucky for you, today I want to watch you cum.”

Without warning, August pushes a second finger inside you. You cry out as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. You were so close to coming, your whole body felt pulled tight like an elastic, ready to spring apart when the tension got too much. Your fingers start to hurt as you hold yourself open. Even your fingers feel tight, ready for the release of your orgasm.

Your thighs start to tremble and you feel the warm wave start to rise from your toes. “Are you about to come pet?” You barely hear August through the fog bliss you’re feeling as his fingers dance inside you, coaxing you to your peak.

“Yes,” you say through your moans.

“Ask permission,” August says.

You’re so close you can’t make sense of his words. “What?” you ask.

“Ask me if you can cum. This is my cunt pet, I will control when you cum. Or I can stop now.”

You understand that threat, “No, no, please don’t stop.” Panting, and breaking out in sweat you say, “Please August, can I cum?”

“Yes, my needy little slut. Cum for me. Now.”

And you do. You don’t know if it was because he told you to or if it was because you were so close anyway, but when he said now, you felt a wave of warmth flood you. Your body pulsed and your core milks at his fingers and they keep hitting your spot. It feels like your orgasm lasts for an age and even as you come down from your high, you tremble in little after shocks.

You are in such a haze you don’t notice August removing his fingers until you feel both his hands on your knees, pushing them up and out as he stands. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he gives them a tug. Your ass is barely on the table and in your malleable state, you feel like you’re going to fall off, but he holds you there.

There’s a new sensation at your core, and you groggily sit up, resting on your elbows. You see August, cock in hand lining himself up. You whimper, not yet, you think. Augusts lifts his eyes and you’re caught once again in his piercing blue eyes. His shows you his teeth and grabs your throat as he impales you with his cock.

You would have thought that you would adjust to his size quicker after the euphoria of your orgasm, but you were wrong. You feel yourself reluctantly stretch around him, and despite the pain, as he fills you, tears you apart, it feels good, he feels good.

August pulls you up by your throat, and you wrap your legs around him for stability. You think he’s going to kiss you, but he studies your every facial expression, listens to every little moan as he starts to fuck you. Still feeling weak, every thrust from August throws you, his firm grip on your throat was the only thing stopping you from falling back on the table.

“You look so good, pet,” he grunts at you through his gritted teeth. “You look like a slut, with your pretty mouth moaning for more.” He leans in close to you, and growls into your ear, “But you’re not just a slut, pet. You are my slut.”

You cry out as he says it, his claim of you relights the fire between your legs and you start moving with him, trying to fulfil the growing need inside you. You grasp his shoulders, holding onto him as he keeps whispering in your ear, “You greedy girl, you want to cum again don’t you?”

“Please, August,” you say. He raises his head and sticks two fingers in your mouth, pushing them in deep, almost making you gag. As you build to your peak so does your boldness and this time you find Augusts eyes. You run your tongue around his fingers, before starting to tease them and suck on them.

August snarls as he watches, and increases his pace. You want to cum again, but you don’t want to stop sucking his fingers. But then August breaths a curse, “Fuck.”

You couldn’t hold it off now, you say around his fingers, “Pease August, can I cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” August is as lost as you are and as you fall over the edge, and your pulsing walls grip his cock he thrusts into like he wants to tear you in two. On his last pump he lets out a deep rumbling growl, before his whole body shudders. You had never seen a man who came like him, the way he doesn’t hold back, the way he lets his primal urges over take him, the noises, all of it was so fucking hot.

August leans his sweaty forehead against yours while you both get your breath back. His hand still holds your throat but he moves it under your chin, and with the gentleness that always surprises you, lifts it and kisses you with soft lips and a caressing tongue. You kiss him back, matching his mood, softly licking at his lips.

With a final kiss, August pulls away and helps you to your feet. “Ok?” he asks. You nod and he chuckles briefly, “Who knew you had both a degradation kink and a praise kink?”

You look away from him, embarrassment filling you. August sees it and lifts your face to his again. “I fucking love it,” he says. “Much more to explore.”

You smile, still a little shy about it, but not as embarrassed. “Come,” he says and takes you to his bedroom where you both get in bed and you lay like you had that morning.

You stay awake, pretending to sleep, keeping your breaths long and steady. Eventually August drifts off, and you wait until he falls into a deep sleep.

You slowly get out of bed and creep over to the dining table. You lift August’s laptop from the chair he had left it on. You open it and enter the password you saw him use on the plane. Your hands start sweating as the machine connects to the CIA network. You think you hear a noise and you look behind you, but you can see or hear nothing.

You type August’s CIA log in and enter another password. You are worried about this one, you aren’t sure if you had been able to catch all of it. You release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding when the CIA logo fills the screen.

You feel eyes on you and the hair on the back of your neck starts to rise. Terrified you turn around and come face to face with August and his unforgiving eyes. “What do you think you are doing, Pet?”

Part 5

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