#but im not against softer readings by any means

[endykelopaedia]

This does still ignore that we don't have to choose one avenue or another when it comes to the intersectionality of this topic.

This post is about misandry being a bad "avenue" for sociopolitical analysis, not about "choosing one." you'd know that if you read the post.

I recognize in my experience as a latino that latina women don't experience the demonization that i do simply because of my gender.

and thats your fucking problem. First Of All you aren't even black so why are you here on my post on anti-blackness like this (and i did notice how you replaced all discussion of black people and anti-blackness with "poc" to get your nasty foot in). And second of yall YES THEY FUCKING DO. You really think being a woman of colour saves you from the racism you experience for their race in any meaningful way? You obviously a misogynist but you might actually be stupid too. Idk how long u lived as a woman or man but maybe go ask your grandma or sumn if being a woman made being latine easier. My exact problem w this misandry shit is how easily it becomes for you people to simply not think abt the women in your community and how obviously misogynistic it is to think their experiences of discrimination and violence must be softer than yours bc shes not a man. choke. moving on.

The darker you are, the more pronounced the fear surrounding you becomes, but it is also amplified by how masculine or feminine your gender expression is. I don't quite agree that "projected hypermasculinity" is the only cause of this.

i think its awesome that this non-black dude thinks he's in the position to explain colourism to me now. Also, I didn't say it was. You'd know that if you Read The Post.

for many poc, they are often in the cross hairs of white-enforced gender binaries. Many people in positions of power [even other poc] will use gender as a violent means to police us, often seeking to turn our own expression of gender against us.

you ever notice how in turning our gender expressions against us, there might be a pattern of projecting violence and aggression (traditionally masculine traits often praised in non-black people), that isnt actually there? This is masculinisation. This is racism. You'd know that, if you read. the post.

This intersection is important to acknowledge and I think very overlooked when poc trans macs like myself have been begging people to listen to us.

Ok. I'm a black i mean poc transmasc. Listen To Me! you are actively talking over what im sayin and barely listening bc it challenges the validity of misandry, a word that has apparently done soooo much for you, and me too obviously, given the nature of this post that you definitely read.

Also the section on adultification is sound. But very strange claim that "black people aren't actually masculine!"

Didn't say this. In fact i also very explicitly said black i mean poc adults also experience adultification. Try reading the post again, and applying my logic that you say is so sound.

Like???????? What about those who are? I have black transmasc friends who have extremely different experiences than my black trans femme friends and I can tell you that it absolutely is about gender there.

thats crazy. you're gonna bring black i mean poc transfemmes into this when the murder statistics for black transfemmes look like this? i wonder what happened there... i thought femininity was supposed to protect femmes from racislised violence...

Everything intersects with race in these conversations of course but there are those of us who are trying to communicate more nuanced experiences.

so sick of yalls "but my unique experiences!!" whinging. fuckin grow up n read a book. you arent the main characters. there are socio-political forces above you shaping our oppression and i am talking about those! i'm not your mother!!! think abt society outside of your feelings for 5 seconds n then get back to me!!!

ALL men benefit from patriarchy just as ALL white people benefit from white supremacy just as ALL cis people benefit from cisnormativity just as ALL rich people benefit from poverty. you think you're being intersectional but you aren't! you're just absolving your ability to perpetuate or benefit from a certain system in your own mind because you too are marginalised. being a man does not create a unique intersection with your race because men, unilaterally, are not oppressed for being men, no, not even sometimes, no, not even when you're black i mean poc or gay or broke or trans. and you can still benefit from misogyny against the women who are just like you.

Masculinity does not equal power.

Yeah ok. neither does whiteness or cisness or money or nun. nothing equals power cuz anyone can be oppressed for any reason. get fucking real.

There is the similarity of not equating feminity with powerlessness.

erm actually... you're the real misogynist for noticing how women are systemically disempowered by men instead of uplifting femininity (by refusing to acknowledge that women are systemically empowered by men) I Am Very Smart.

And Finally, lets talk about these tags a mo.

"white" "american" and i am very explicitly neither white or american. easy to guess from the way i write this post. easier to confirm from looking at my god damn bio. and thats how i know you arent serious bc you really think only white americans utilise male privilege as a concept? yk the feminist you haphazardly snatched "intersectionality" from was a black woman explicitly naming the way that the misogyny she experienced from black i mean poc men and the racism she experienced from white women was rendered invisible by both groups failing to acknowledge the intersection she had of being both black and a woman? of course not. you're an idiot.

"black people are seen as hyper-masculine and face a lot of violence for it, so yes you can be oppressed for seeming or being masculine"

AHT!! lets talk! black people are not actually hyper-masculine. hyper-masculinity is a projection by people trying to justify anti-black fear and violence. it is not a true and then demonised observation about black existence. the hyperfocus on the masculinity of black people is itself racism!

when you call this issue of racism anti-masculinity or misandry or whatever, you are obfuscating the bigotry at play. ESPECIALLY given that it is overwhelmingly just white women's fear about black people's supposed hyper-masculinity that actually gets listened to & acted upon.

in addition, there are other addendums people tack onto their anti-blackness that completely cause this logic to fall apart when applied. Namely, adultification! black people, black children get adultified by white society.

We are assumed to be older & more independent, and thus less in need of the safety, care, sensitivity, accommodation one would give to a child, and this results in violence and neglect. it is directly observable in the way black children are more likely to get detention, suspended or expelled for the same behaviour as their white peers, s/a rates for black youth, and the arguments that 40 y/o cops give for brutalising & murdering black 20, 16, 12, 8 year olds who so much as breathe in their line of sight.

Given this then, following the misandry logic, we can say being recognised as older or as an adult is a form of oppression.

"black people are seen as older/more mature and face a lot of violence for it, so yes, you can be oppressed for seeming like or being an adult"

we can for the sake of this post name this oppression adultery.

i kid. but do you see the problem. being recognised as an adult is obviously, not itself a form of oppression, in fact quite the opposite, being recognised as adult can grant you a lot of privileges that children do not have.

and black kids are evidently, not adults or people who act like adults. they dont mature faster. black 18 y/os will also face the problem of adultification to justify violence against them. black maturity is not a true and then demonised observation about black existence. the form of oppression is racism, and adultification is the deployed means of enacting racism.

the means of combatting the adultification of black people would not come in creating adult positivity or "advocating" for adults or telling children not to fear adults. it comes in the form of learning about anti-blackness, unlearning anti-blackness, and actually directly combatting anti-blackness.

similarly the means of combatting the hyper-masculinisation of black people comes in the form of learning about anti-blackness, unlearning anti-blackness, and actually directly combatting anti-blackness.

Racism explains both of this phenomena far better than "misandry" ever could.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Oh boy it's rotating Manfred Von Karma hours. Rotating him like evidence until all the juicy bits fall out because I think he's neat.

[tremendously-crazy]

"You can't hate on an entire Sherlock Holmes adaptation just because of how they interpret Irene Norton (nee Adler)-" SHUT UP.

I will hate on an adaptation if it does the following:

makes Irene a love interest for Sherlock Holmes (whether realized or not).

First of all, Holmes is NOT attracted to women, and never experiences a smidgen of attraction towards them in the original stories. ACD could have very easily written him a love interest, but CHOSE NOT TO because it went against the idea of his character. He was never attracted towards women.

Second of all, Irene Adler isn't even Irene Adler. Her name is Irene NORTON. Do you want to know why? Because she's LITERALLY MARRIED. TO A LAWYER NAMED GODFREY NORTON. She already has a husband who she loves very much! She does not love Holmes!

Thirdly, a man can feel admiration for a woman without being attracted to her. Watson literally says in the first part of A Scandal in Bohemia that he didn't feel any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler!!

2. makes Irene into some sort of femme fatalle/sexually appealing

This implies that women can only be smarter than men if they are attractive/hot. That, in order for a woman to be successful, she has to provide something for a man.

Edit: this doesn't mean that she ISNT attractive. She is beautiful and enthralling, which is what makes the king fall for her in the first place. What I mean is when Irene becomes a SEXUALIZED character.

Doing this means she can't just be a smart woman, but that she has to be sexually attractive and mysterious, too! DOING THIS REDUCES HER INTO AN OBJECT OF DESIRE!!!

3. makes her weak/makes her get outsmarted by Holmes

Im not sure if any adaptations have actually done this. But if so. Absolutely not. She challenges Holmes's misogynistic ideals and to reform his views. Because Holmes views women as softer, weaker, and less intelligent (when they are NOT!!) And Irene helps to teach him this. Her lesson is effective!! Because Holmes stops making fun of women. And he changes his ways. Why would you make her weaker? She's SUPPOSED to beat Holmes.

If it does this or anything else I will NOT view the adaptation. You can tell a lot about the adaptors, their respect and accuracy while depicting the original stories, and how they view women, through their interpretation of Irene Norton. She is the most famous female character in the series, after all. Do her RIGHT! READ A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA BEFORE YOU ADAPT! And if you still make these amateur mistakes, you shouldn't be adapting Sherlock Holmes at all.

[moonrisecoeur]

Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

[jacaerysgf]

So i was thinking about enemies to lovers jacaerys x ftm!reader like they know each other since they were kids but they're always fighting/competing with each other and then someone from their school throw a party and they got very drunk and ended up fucking (ofc jace teases the hell out of him)

a.n: literally pure filth, enjoy ! can be read as gn! but it is intended to be m! just a little drabble

w.c: 800+

c.w under cut

masterlist - requests open

c.w: bottom!also kinda mean but sub!reader, mean? dom!top!jace, college au, barely any plot, teasing, slut shaming, anal (implied), anal fingering, anal eating (implied), male masturbation (kinda?),slight breeding kink i guess ? rivals to lovers(?)/fwb? can be interpreted either way, not proofread

“Always knew you were a fucking slut.”

You don’t even remember how you ended up here. You and jace have always had a sort of rivalry. Ever since you met you two never really got along, you were civil when you needed to be, but any chance you would get you two would exchange insults.

“When are the two of you gonna fuck already?” You remember looking at your friend with confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you kidding me? The hate fucking you guys would have is insane.”

“You say that like you didn't just have your tongue up my ass.” You feel a harsh slap against your ass cheeks and you whimper. “Shut the fuck up slut.”

“Make me you piece of shit.” He says nothing in return. You don’t see what he’s doing, laying on your stomach makes it near impossible to look at him, you hear some wet sounds before you suddenly feel a finger slip into your hole and moan.

“You were too fucking ready for that, what a fucking whore.” No sounds leave your mouth other than hushed moans as he begins to pump his finger in and out. “Now you wanna be quiet huh? you were running your mouth earlier what happened?” You can hear the fake concerned voice and you can even imagine the pout on his face as he mocks you.

“Please.” He shoves a second finger in and moves so his face is right next to your ear, managing to catch your teary eyes, “Awe,” He wipes a tear from you face but the look he gives you shows he doesn't care, “Look at you, so cute.”

“Fuck you.” You manage to cry out and you watch his jaw clench and he tsks at you. “Seems like nobody taught you how to show some respect.” Suddenly his fingers are ripped out of you and you whine, wiggling your ass in his direction to get him to put them back in.

He slaps your ass, “Stop fucking whining,” He flips you around and he’s suddenly straddling you, holding his cock in his hands, “you need to be punished so you’re gonna sit there and watch.”

You stare at him, trying to keep your eyes off his dick as he begins to stroke himself, his eyes closing as he begins to moan. “Fuck.” No matter how much squirming and whining you do he does not let up, continuing to force you watch him pleasure himself while you’re withering in pain from how turned on you are.

“jace,,,” “shut up, im fucking close.”

He has you laying on your hands so you can’t even reach up and grab him. “I’m sorry jace please.” He just laughs and shakes his head, continuing to jerk himself off. “Now you wanna be sorry right? right as im about to cum, awe are you upset im not cumming in you?”

He grabs your jaw with one hand and forces you to look him, “What you want that? You want me to stuff you full?” You nod as best you can and you try to see his facial expression through your blurry teary eyes.

You see him come closer into view until his lips press against yours, unlike how he has been treating you he kissed you softly. Both of his hands move to cup your cheeks, you can feel him smiling against your lips and as he pulls back he wipes some of the tears off your face.

“You good?” His voice is softer than it had been before, clearly checking in on you. Your heart swells at his actions and you nod. “Yes, i promise, im good.” He hums and pecks your lips one more time before he gets off you and harshly turns you over and pulls your hips up and a hand comes down to force your chest against the bed.

You can’t help but feel slightly humiliated at the position but you can think about that right as his fingers rub around your hole. “You’re so cute.”

“Saying that to my ass?” “What? She’s cute, look at her puckering at my fingers.” “My ass is a she?” “To make you feel better ill say my dick is also a she.” “Fuck you.”

Apparently in that time you were chatting he had lubed up his dick and began to stick the head of his dick inside you, “I'm fucking trying to.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[yourlocalstranger123]

Hello I luv your writing may I request a yandere Nanook (if you write for him) with a Aeon of wind reader who's like Venti

U don't have to write this if this makes you uncomfortable is it fine if it's fluff?

|\/|Xx×!¡《Nanook》¡!×xX|\/|

ofc! Also, i appreciate you putting what kind of theme you wanted, like fluff. Bc I sometimes I add angst to a fluff bc they didn't exactly tell me what kind of theme, so I just take it as a free for all...(I still feel guilty-)

Also, im not too familiar with the lore, aeon's, and stuff. Especially his personality, so I might get it wrong. So I'll just go with the typical yandere who goes softer with you? For the fluff and since you said reader who's like venti, I view him as free going, so there won't be too many dark things about him being a yandere (and since it's mostly fluff)

Why every time I read my own writing, I think of the wattpad 😨😱😭

Warning: Murder mention

×Beauty of destruction×

Xx×—' and life ♥︎ '—×xX

× He wasn't interested in you at first, only focusing on destroying things. He sees the creation of the universe as a mistake and sought to destroy everything. As he was busy with his own plans, he felt a gust of wind thrown at him. He turned around to see you playfully laugh.

× he scoffed in annoyance but didn't bother to kill you.... but your alluring chuckle caught his attention. Seeing you directly gift your blessing to the people who walked your path so easily... Smiling as if something new and wonderful has been newly created and brought upon the world. Why were you so...happy?

× his dead "heart" started thumping against his chest as he watched you... he never felt so intrigued with something or someone. Did you do something to him? Why is his heart beating so hard against his chest? It hurts....but it hurts so good

× he was bothered by this new feeling...it felt confusing. He wanted to hear your voice, touch you, embrace you... but the most cunfusing part for him is that he wants you to be his, his only, but he wants to be yours too... it's simple, really, but why..? Why does he want that? He wanted to know more

× He read books in his own time of how to approach you, and he tried many times, but he just... he couldn't. Like something was stopping him. Hesitance, perhaps? He wonders why. There wasn't any bad relationship between him and you, so why was he hesitating? He's been observing and made every preparation of trying to make a conversation with you for days, so why?

× While he was in the middle of his thoughts, he flinched and quickly turned around, then saw your startled face. He stood still, mind racing of what to say. His heart thumped against his chest painfully. He felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to clutch his chest and make it stop. Why did he feel this way?

× The feeling was soon replaced immediately the moment you touched his shoulder, asking if he was alright. He felt... free, felt as if all the burden on his shoulders were lifted off. He lifts his head up to see you, your gentle eyes gazing into his,,

× he was stiff while having a conversation with you; only replying with dry responses. (Dryer than the Atacama desert) He wasn't much of a talker, so he listened to your stories, your daily life, your complaints, anything honestly. He simply laid their with his head resting on his palm as he watched you talk.

♥︎ oh, how he was soooo new to these kinds of feelings. But don't worry! You're here with him for a reason :) You're gonna help him, right? You guided him through these complicated meanings of it, so of course you will! You're the one responsible for it so you should take the responsibility!

♥︎ He takes mental notes about you, even the smallest details like he always notice that whenever your presence is near, a slight wind blows around the area you are in. So, he is able to quickly notice your presence. (You didn't even notice it yourself until he told you-)

♥︎ He always accompanies you everywhere. Every. Single. Place. (Maybe even the place you rest at..) And if you ask him why, he always says that it's was quite a coincidence, purely luck for him to cross path with you. Or that he thought that you needed protection (sir...[name] is an Aeon, how does- nvm, hes just delulu) and etc...

♥︎ and if you say no? He'll try to convince you. If that doesn't work? He'll be sadden, frowning(pouting), and looks with you with teary eyes. (those be fake asf-) ah....what a wonderful way to guilt trap you because it definitely works.

♥︎ Oh, the first time he smiled at you? You were memorized. (But if someone else, they would think he was planning to finally destroy the world now...) you happily and giddily told the other Aeons about this, and they looked at you H.O.R.R.I.F.I.E.D. Like, what do you mean the most mass of destruction is smiling innocently? They decided to secretly watch you from afar.

♥︎ He brings you small little gifts like flowers that are shaped as a crown (Your his emperor/empress) or a ring (He wants to marry you since he thinks that marriage is a powerful contract of loyalty and love...and maybe wants to prove to you that he is worthy of that-)

♥︎ He softens whenever you're around. He feels like he's wrapped around a warm blanket whenever you praise him or comfort him in any way, so he always seeks for your approval (and attention). You are his world, his everything, his only reason to not already destroy this universe.

♥︎ Oh, how he's sooooo obsessed with you! It's like seeing a teenager obsessing over their crush! Whatever you give him, even if it's the most basic thing ever, he takes care of it and makes sure it's in its top shape and condition! And if anything or anyone dares to damage it or even touch it, he'll make sure they'll regret it... (Of course, if it's you, he doesn't mind! He can just simply try to put it back in shape, and if it doesn't work, he'll ask you for another one! He's even saying, please....)

♥︎ He even has a cute little (huge) shrine of you! He used something called a "camera" and took pictures every time you looked in high spirits like when you smiled, fascinated, grinned, etc. And of course, he took it with your consent....he doesn't want his love to be upset now, would he?

—Xx×《 ~♥︎~ 》×xX—

He was enjoying the feeling of resting his head on your lap, intertwining his hand with yours. He listened to your voice as you sing songs, stories, or even just humming. He really wants to hear your heartbeat, so he pokes your arm to catch your attention. As you looked down, you could see something no one could or ever believe.

His smile. He tapped lightly on the spot where your heart was. He savored the sound of your chuckle as you gently lift his head off your lap and made yourself comfortable before letting him lean closer and put his head on your chest. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled against you. He was like a little cat, how adorable.

He was always so jealous that when you shared your smile with others, he wanted to be the only one to see that. He wanted to keep you from others. He didn't like that your attention was ripped off from him when one of your followers prayed for you. He covered your eyes with his hand and snuggled against you. He huffed and frowned when you tried to get him off.

He glared when he heard the other Aeon trying to call you. Before you could even respond, he pushed you down and hugged you tightly. "Do you really have to go to.....that aeon right now? Can't you stay just this once? Please [name]?" He asks. He would've begged if you didn't respond quickly with a agreement. He smiles and bathes in your warmth once again.

(He's gets jealous quite easily)

He made a ring out of the flowers he found. He tried to secretly slide it onto your finger, which made you smile. You pretended not to know what he was doing and just played with his hair. Once he was done, you finally pretended to just notice it now. "Oh, did someone put this pretty ring on my finger? Oh, how I wonder who the handsome/beautiful person put this ring on me?"

You chuckled as he perked up. He snuggles against your hand that had the ring on it. "Mustn't I put a ring on yours too?" You played along as he blushed lightly. He could see you using the wind to gather up some flowers into your palm, making a ring for him too! His eyes light up as you put a ring on his finger.

He smiles once again. He's glad that he killed all of your suitors before they could even meet you....He should be the only one who you call "yours," and you should only be with him, you don't need anyone else...

He really loves and adores you. He will do anything to keep you with him

[cookiesforsigma]

✧Fyodor Centered Headcanons // dating✧

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoevsky x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: none

W/c: 1.5k

A/n: I actually did this in one sitting my body hurts from staying still for so long ahhh also this is my first post and im not a good writer ok. i rly hope Fyodor isn't ooc here

--Fyodor dating headcanons--

1. General + fluff

— I think we all know he's not the most romantic/affectionate lover (though he's so attractive, in your eyes, he's a gentleman).

— Even after you start dating him, Fyodor will still be (cold?) formal to you. He somehow still manages to show his affection towards you in this manner.

— He's softer around you than he is around anybody.

— He prefers giving you attention when you're alone rather than in public.

— He's a bit obsessed with you. Fyodor is so used to getting what he wants, so he has slight yandere tendencies.

— To him, his lover is most precious.

— He lets you wear his ushanka (his hat) and his coat, and he secretly thinks you look adorable dressed like him. He'd never outright admit it, of course.

— Fyodor probably will not make the first move. By that I mean he won’t kiss you unless you kiss him, but that only applies before your first kiss. He does see you staring though.

— He sometimes teases you and acts mean on purpose just to get a reaction out of you. Fyodor thinks you look so cute when you're mad at him and hug a pillow instead of hugging him, but he can't stand being ignored. He'll apologize soon.

— He's extremely observant. He is always able to read you like an open book.

— And don't think he doesn't notice anything you do. Whether it's a small act of affection like brushing your knuckles against his 'by accident', smiling more or less than usual or fidgeting, he notices all of it. Not in a creepy way though.

— Speaking of, he loves small acts of affection. He's almost always holding your hand, he gives you small kisses, and he strokes your hair sometimes.

- - - ♡ - - -

Holding your hand;

— Gosh, he's almost always holding your hand. He especially loves when you intertwine your fingers. He isn't big on physical touch, so this is a great way for him to feel closer to you.

— Sometimes, if he doesn't feel like it, he won't let go of your hand as it is 'such a bother'. Even after your hands become sweaty, you'll have to beg him to let go. Because he won't. (not willingly)

— Fyodor doesn't do a lot of pinky holding. He wants to feel your palms against his. Plus, his hands are always cold because of his anemia, and holding hands properly is the best way to keep him warm (outside of cuddle sessions).

- - - ♡ - - -

Kisses;

— He adores soft kisses. He's also not much of a lip kisser. His favorite places to kiss you are your cheek and forehead (and your hand, on rare occasions).

— He sometimes has bursts of affection, mostly after a long day at work, but they are very small and they don't last very long. It'd hurt his ego if he showed his desperation for your love.

— These small bursts of affection are the moments he gives you kiss attacks.

— Passionate kisses only happen during makeout sessions, which, of course, happen later in the relationship. I'd say it's worth the wait, given that he's an incredibly good kisser and his passionate kisses are so passionate. (obv they are im so stupid.)

— Don't expect him to kiss you first though. Fyodor rarely ever makes the first move.

— But he does notice you staring at his lips, expecting him to kiss you.

— He has a habbit of biting his nails, so it's difficult not to stare.

— And his lips are extremely soft. And warm. Any wait you have to go through, it's worth it.

- - - ♡ - - -

Playing with your hair;

— If you have long hair, he absolutely loves it. It's classic of him to prefer long hair, don't you think?

— If you have short hair, that's fine too. Your hair length does not determine how much he loves you by any means. He just thinks your hair is such a delicate thing about you.

— If you have long hair though, you can expect him to stare. A lot.

— Fyodor loves seeing you with your hair untied, or seeing the different hairstyles you try, even if you just put your hair up lazily, he thinks any hairstyle looks good on you.

— He's not always touching your hair, but it makes him happy when you let him brush it, play with it, or try new hairstyles on you.

— He'll only brush your hair after a shower or if you ask him to, play with it when he feels like it, braid it when he thinks it'll get tangled. He doesn't play with your hair 24/7, as I said, but he's always more than happy to if you ask him.

- - - ♡ - - -

Sitting/laying your head on his lap and vice versa;

— Fyodor doesn't mind if you sit on his lap or lay your head on his thigh while he works. In fact, he actually likes it.

— He'd be a little surprised as he's very touch starved and he'll find it difficult to relax, but he will for your comfort.

— These are the moments he'll run his fingers through your hair and pat your head gently (and awkwardly). But you love the feeling of his hands, there's no way you could ever complain.

— Fyodor will also brush your hair out of your face and maybe kiss your hand, but after you fall asleep.

— He never gets enough rest, which is why you'll just go to sleep on his lap most of the time. But you still get chances to sleep with him.

— He'll let you sleep peacefully if it's a short afternoon nap, but at night he'll snuggle with you after he finishes his work.

— He's too cocky to lay his head on your lap. Again, it'd hurt his ego. So you'd have to ask him to do that.

— Making him sit on your lap is out of the question.

— If you manage to get him to lay his head on your thigh and you want him to do it again sometime, you need to stroke his hair and maybe bend down to give him a kiss.

— Oh God he's definitely doing this again.

— He doesn't like being put in 'vulnerable' positions, but he can't help it when your fingers massage that one spot on his head.

— After the first time he falls asleep on your lap, he won't even bother asking. He'll just sit you down somewhere and tell you he's sleepy, and then wait to be taken care of.

— Of course, this is the kind of thing Fyodor would only do in private, and he'd appreciate it if you didn't try to do this in front of anyone either.

- - - ♡ - - -

Spending time together;

— Fyodor's quite introverted, so he'd prefer an introverted s/o. Even if you're not introverted, as long as you're not loud, he's fine with it.

— The reason I'm mentioning this is because he wants the two of you to be able to enjoy each other's company in silence sometimes.

— He can play his cello for you while you work on something, he can play with your hair while you read a book, or you could cuddle and take a nap.

— Fyodor doesn't always feel the need to hold a conversation to enjoy your presence. He knows you're next to him, and that's enough for him.

- - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - -

2. Comfort

— Let's be honest now... He sucks at comforting people. (how am i going to write this..)

— He's never dealt with anyone crying before, let alone a person he cares about.

— The difference between a crying person and a crying person he cares about is that he's scared of hurting the feelings of the person he cares about. (makes sense? no.)

— Fyodor won't struggle to comfort you as long as you're not crying. He'll buy you food if you want, he'll play chess/card games with you, he'll play his cello for you, he'll give you his hat... He will just do this best to cheer you up.

— But he's aware that if you start crying, cheering you up is not the right solution. He's going to try to hold you and let you cry in his arms.

— He won't talk much. He really wouldn't know what to say in situations like these.

— There's a chance he'll complain about you getting his clothes wet...? I'm so sorry but it sounds like something he'd do. Not always though.

— He cares about you, but he doesn't feel the need to remind you, as it'd make him feel awkward and he knows you're aware of that already.

— Fyodor is still going to hold you for as long as you need.

— He'll ask you what the matter is, and he'll be fine with it if you don't want to answer. He'll probably make you a drink or try to cheer you up once you've stopped crying.

— He'll hold you some more if needed.

— If you do decide to tell him what's bothering you, he might think it's not worth crying over. Depends if it's an insecurity or someone's death.

— If it is an insecurity Fyodor will give you some praise and compliments, but again, 'it's a pathetic reason to cry'.

— He's not good at giving advice if that's what you need.

— But he'll listen and hold you, even if he doesn't openly admit he cares for you as much as he really does.

- - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - -

[threegunbrainrot]

i dont have any trigun mutuals so i'm just gonna ramble my thoughts into the infinite void of tumblr. and im sure others have touched on this same topic but

it almost seems like vash is getting softer with every new installment of trigun? like incredibly consistently and incredibly specifically.

let me explain.

i'll start with tristamp and work backwards; the tristamp vash we all know and love there is incredibly adverse to violence.

more often than not he ACTIVELY refuses to fight and just WON'T draw his gun. this post loosely counted the amount of bullets that he shot throughout all of season 1, and almost ALL of them (like to an insane degree) were dished out against knives, who vash knew was strong enough to take the hit.

the few times vash does draw his gun against a human in tristamp, it's as a blunt force weapon (against the badlads gang and livio, for example) or to disarm others/save someone with ricochet (like shooting the punisher before wolfwood can kill livio).

he just doesn't shoot people. at ALL.

then if we look at 98 trigun, things change drastically.

here, vash isn't afraid to hurt people a little if it means more will be saved in the end. of course he never kills, but he actually shoots people here. not only that...

he holds a casual, sarcastic conversation while pointing his weapon at people.

he constantly shoots at limbs to immobilize people, fires warning shots extremely close to peoples' vitals, and performs several very insane trick shots throughout the show to wound those with armor.

tristamp vash wouldn't even draw, but 98 struts around firing warning shots into the sky and singing about bloodshed for intimidation! i'm not sure there's a single episode where he doesn't shoot someone at least once.

...so what about trimax, then?

(PLOT SPOILERS AHEAD)

he is so. shockingly. violent.

of course he never kills. of course he's still trying to save people, but there's this anger in him that i was completely taken off-guard by reading for the first time.

tristamp vash is so soft he's painful to watch. 98 vash makes a heartbreaking effort to be as silly and nonthreatening as possible, constantly making himself out to be the fool. but trimax?

he's... literally grief-stricken and out for revenge. explicit revenge. he's angry and he's hurt and he lays his intentions out so clearly. he's making THREATS.

seriously:

hunting legato. HUNTING him.

it's not even a matter of drawing his weapon anymore. he does it constantly, and fires just as much. never to kill, but he doesn't joke around the way 98 vash does. the most he'll offer is a sunny smile to reassure others and nothing more.

i'm not that far into the manga, either. i'm sure there's countless more (and probably better) panels to convey this side of trimax vash, but i suppose it also says something that i've found so many panels depicting this so early on.

but the progression of vash's personality is fascinating regardless.

from a tortured, angry loner desperately trying to cling to his morals for rem's sake

to an equally devastated man who devotes himself so completely to acting the role of the fool

and finally to the sad, chronically depressed shell of a person in tristamp who refuses to so much as draw his weapon.

[fayecreates]

Out of Control

Premise: Vastaya! Fem Reader x Sevika (as per the people’s vote) heat. Yeah, thats about it. Also the readers a dog humanlike Vastaya.

A/N: there are not enough words in the dictionary to save my dignity, but thats okay, im cringe and free.

I refuse to have anyone beta read this, and i wrote this over the course of like a week. I dont proofread either so good luck.

Warnings: smut (obviously), humiliation, degradation, only frottage (if you can even call it that(i dont care)), puppygirl kink? (I hope y’all would get that from the premise) established relationship but its recent, uhhh yeah

Words: 2,218

Sevika was a nice girlfriend. She was protective, generous, and just overall nice even if she wasn’t open about it. What you two had was nice to say the least. Her giving acts of service to you with a grumble and her always upset resting face grew more and more endearing. It wasn’t like you needed her for everything, you were far from a helpless damsel needing a shining armor. Being a Vastaya in Zaun meant you had to help yourself because no one else would. You had grown up here, and made your way to a nice (nice for Zaun at least) paying job with a girlfriend who loved you dearly. What could be so bad about the life you pulled together?

Heat. Thats what would ruin it all.

The day of reckoning, as you’d call it, was similar to an actual dog’s heat. It was one of few things that distinguished you from a human. It only happened once a year, but because of the intense effects of it you questioned if you should rip out your uterus. The overwhelming arousal would consume every waking thought. You would barely sleep, eat, or do anything besides try to relive it. Leaving the house was dangerous, you were too susceptible to the ill intentions of creepy men.

Fortunately, you had the privilege of being able to just stay home for a week and tear stuff up from utter frustration. Unfortunately, you told your lovely girlfriend that you’d play cards with her at the Last Drop tonight. You felt horrible, not only just from the heat but also from the fact you had broken a promise. You felt a weighing feeling of guilt as you laid on your couch, sharp nails digging into the cushions. You had only worn a loose robe, just enough to cover yourself but not too much as to overheat.

You laid on that couch, hands covering your eyes as one leg escaped the fabric of your robe. You tried distracting yourself from all of the borderline disrespectful thought, but it was all for nothing. You thought of Sevika, her eyes and how they stared into your soul, her face, her lips, her arms, both flesh and metal, her chest, how muscular she was. Imagining how she’d kiss you, her tongue would brush against yours for what felt like hours, though it never went to any more. Your fluffy tail brushed against the fabric of the cushions, you wanted it all to be over. You thought of her fingers, how would they feel when they pressed against—

A loud knock came from the front door

Your ears perk up at the noise, it was only a few feet away from your head, impossible to ignore. You quickly sat up, a mixture of sweat and… other liquids dripped down your inner thigh. You attempted to compose yourself to the best of your ability, maybe if your acting was good enough you could act like you werent home, depending on who it was. With light footsteps towards the door, you looked out the peephole, seeing the tall woman you broke a promise with. Ideas raced through your head, how could you avoid her for up to 10 days? Act sick? Pretend you went on a trip? As your thoughts continued, another loud knock cause you to jump a small bit.

“Open up, i know you’re there.” Sevika’s voice boomed, she sounded mostly pissed but it was hinted with a softer tone that was reserved for you. Now torn again, you thought about more options. I mean how bad would it be if you did open up?

Hesitantly, you unlocked the door, opening it only a smidge. “…hi..” is all you managed to mumble out as you peaked through the crack. She glared down at you, honestly it just made your condition worse. You could see her, not just in your crude dreams now, all 100% of her. You could smell her, a mix of whiskey, burnt wood, and the faintest smell of sweat filled your nose. It was utterly intoxicating. “You really think you can just leave me for shits and giggles? If you didnt want to show up, say it.” She says with a look of disapproval, and as hard it is to admit, it sent a shock through your body. You thought a range of thoughts, ones that were born of pure degeneracy, to simply how you should respond. “Well?” She says, putting her hand on the side of the door, pushing it open a bit.

A moment passed as you attempted to compose yourself more. You decided to just come clean… mostly…

“Uh… i-i didnt mean to leave you… i have a little problem, and i couldnt talk until now…” you mutter, your ears pressed flat against your head showing your guilt. However, your fluffy wagging tail contrasted that. She pressed the door open just a bit further, the low warm lighting from your home illuminating her. You couldn’t help but stare, your eyes drifted towards her muscular arm. You always loved that part of her, thinking of all the things she could do just with one arm. “And that ‘little problem’ is…?” Sevika says with an almost disrespectful look down at you, she fully assumed you were just lying. “Uh… heat…” you mumbled reluctantly. It was deathly embarrassing, you wouldn’t ever be caught dead admitting that to anyone, let alone your girlfriend. Being a desperate little whore was far from easy to say. “You better come up with a better excuse than that.” She says with a sharp laugh, although you just looked up at her nervous and almost a bit scared. “Are you serious? You’re too hot to even tell me a simple sentence?” You vigorously shake your head. It was simple misunderstanding, but it would be twice as humiliating to explain that. “…like Vastaya heat,.. not temperature…” you mutter, your voice just a bit louder than the previous muttering. She looked down at you, her expression shifting slightly to be less upset, you could’ve sworn she even smirked a bit. Her hand pushed the door open even more, your eyes trailed down her body once more. Looking at her broad shoulder, her chest, her thigh, all of her was so perfect in your eyes.

“You could’ve just started with that. Now, let me in already, it’s cold out.” Sevika says, her tone more calm. You quickly stepped away from the door, allowing her to waltz right in. She towered over you, not just physically but also just in your demeanor. Your hands gripped at the hems of your robe, as an attempt to control yourself better. She looked around the living room, it wasn’t the first time she’d been in your house but you’d at least tidy up before she came there. Your old clothes were thrown around, various parts from your hobbies were barely started or just opened from when you tried to distract yourself, and the couch… the couch you recently just laid on as you had various carnal imagery flash through your head. Your slick dripped onto the cushions, just ruining them. You were embarrassed, you tried being proper and put together for Sevika. You tried to be good for her.

“So this is where you’d rather be.” She teased, her eyes lingering for a bit too long at the couch before they locked back on with yours. You didn’t know how to continue this, you didnt even know what she wanted from this encounter. You thought, just for a minute, that you could… maybe… ask her for a little help with your heat. It wouldn’t quench it, but it would relieve you for at least a few hours. Well that depending more on what you both did. “Um… Sevika, can i ask you a favor…?” You say quietly, looking up at her with a shy look. Your heart raced, you shifted your weight onto one of your legs. She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Can… uh… we have sex… or something…?” You ask, awkward as hell. It’s not like you’ve ever asked anyone else for sex, especially not when you are mid heat. Her eyes widen just slightly as she stared down as you.

“Say please.” Is all she said, furthering your embarrassment.

“…please…” you mumble, she was getting a kick out of just making your more and more embarrassed for something she saw as an everyday (or so) thing. Her smirk grew as she looked down at you. “Good girl.” She says, her voice low, almost a growl. She ruffled your hair just a bit. Your face flushed a deeper shade at the praise, it was all you ever wanted. Her hand fell down the top of your head to your cheek, tilting your head up as she looked down in your eyes. Those grey eyes stood out so beautifully from her deep dark circles beneath her eyes, burning into your soul. She leaning down just a bit, kissing you softly. Your ears perk up excitedly at the soft touch. Her fingers grip the base of your ear, pulling you towards the couch. She let go, sitting down with you in front of her, and you just followed like lost puppy. You move to sit beside her, a gentle yet firm hand on your hip stopping you. “Hold on.” She says, every second without any sort of stimulation felt like hell but you’d follow any order for a chance at it. “Kneel.” She says, her voice so loud in your ears from the utter silence you previously laid in for hours. You sat on your knees in between her spread legs, as she smiled down at you, a hand briefly cradling your cheek once more. Squeezing your thighs together, you waited as patiently as your body allowed. “Now, be a good girl and take that off for me.” She says using her boot to signal to your robe, not even lifting a finger. Your fingers fumbled but after a moment you slide off the robe, barely ashamed of your state at this point. Cold air hit your bare skin but all you did was lean forward more. “Since when have you been so obedient?” She asked rhetorically, either way you would’ve stared up at her a little dumbfounded and excited. She took her hand and gently held your cheek, caressing it with her thumb. It felt so gentle and sweet but underlying was just pure condescension.

“Puppy, tell me, what do you wanna do?” Sevika asked, her dark grey eyes felt like they could burn through you. The pet name alone made you throb just a bit harder, you couldn’t admit that though. Words felt like they were stuck in your throat, your hands rested on the cushion, just between her spread legs. “Can… i wanna cum,.. please…?” You beg, rolling your hips on nothing besides the air around you. Her hand migrated from your cheek to your chin, holding it firmly upwards.

“Then go on and fuck my leg if you’re so desperate.” She says, giving a firm pat the top of your head before leaning back on the couch. You looked up, mostly in disbelief. How could she be so cruel? But, in the same vein, you were desperate as she said. You hesitated, her judging eyes saw every small movement. She ever so slightly raised her eyebrows and nodded her head, as to signal to do something. You, reluctantly, sat so her leg was just inbetween yours. She moved her leg forward, pressing so her calf was flush with your core. It was like electric was sent through your body. The small touch made you whimper. You, after a second, put your hands around her leg, she had still kept her clothes on but that wouldn’t prevent your horniess. Slowly pushing your hips up and rolling them back down, you bit your lip as to not be too loud. Her gaze lingered on you, she seemed a little disinterested almost, not lifting a finger for you. Your fingers gripped her thigh, like she would leave if it were any lighter, your rutting was sloppy and born of just lust. You looked downwards as an attempt to avoid the shame, you could feel her eyes burning through your skull either way. Moans fell from your lips like it were as simple as breathing. It felt bad, physically it was amazing. Her hand reached up to your ears, gently scratching behind them. Feeling her touch only amplified everything. The pure arousal, her scent, her touch, the small hums that escaped her lips. It was euphoric. With each little thrust of your hips, you grew closer and closer, panting heavier and heavier.

“I-i… im gonna— im close…” you manage to sputter out despite your head being clouded by lust. “I know, puppy.” She says, still rubbing your head. With only a few more sloppy rolls of your hips, the tension you held washed away. Riding out your orgasm with rough, loud moans and pants. After a small minute, in which you had mostly just attempted to catch your breath, the same arousal flashed over you once more.

“…’Vika… i-i want more…” you said between heavy breaths.

[sammyvhs]

home : 1.09 pt1 — jess’s sister.

You’re not stupid. At least you hope not. You pray you’re not. You knock on their motel door a little less sure of the fact, maybe it’ll increase in confidence when you see them.

It doesn’t. The second your eyes lock with Sam’s half-asleep ones you’re positive your breath hitches just enough that your heart stops beating momentarily. His messy hair, his exhausted expression, the dark bags under his eyes even him still wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey, you came.” You nod and lean into the hug he pulls you in for. His cologne is palpable, the same one he used to wear in Stanford and it’s comforting for you to know he hasnt thrown the bottle away.

“I came.” You whisper, letting go and stepping inside when he moves to let you in. Dean’s on a bed, looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. You wish you could too but everytime you close your eyes your sister is on the ceiling. Sometimes she’s calling out for you to help. Other times she’s telling you that you’re the reason she’s gone. Your carelessness. You didn’t lock the doors. The windows, you were fast, you didn’t hear anything, you—

“You okay?” Sam pulls you away from the dark thoughts and you nod. “Okay well, Dean’s asleep and I don’t think we’ll talk much right now, you can catch a few hours.” you nod at the offer, thanking him quietly. You're still in jeans yourself but you don't mind since you're not sure you’ll be sleeping. 

“I’ll take the couch.” he stares at you like you just said bruised his ego then shakes his head. “Sam, im serious, i dont sleep—”

“Vampire?” he jokes half heartedly and you smile.

“I just mean i usually take power naps. Please, sam, just take the bed.” he ends up pulling you on it next to him and you’re not sure why for the first time in months you fall asleep with no nightmares.

Sam doesnt. Sam wakes up suddenly, forcing you out of your sleep, to a nightmare. You’re shuddering thinking of the fact that you felt that safe in your dead sister’s boyfriend’s arms.

You pretend you’re asleep until sam’s breath gets softer and peel yourself off the bed and to the couch. Theres not much to do at four in the morning so you read, you snoop around for a bit, wonder how much sam would hate you if you opened his bag, and eventually take another nap on the couch. 

Still no nightmare, you wake up to the sound of Dean’s boots tapping against on the floor. You quickly sit up a little, taking in your surroundings.

“‘Morning, sweetheart.” your lips apart, sure you're going to respond like a normal human with ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t come, you just nod. “Want coffee?” only then do you notice the two paper cups in his hand.

“Sure, thanks, Dean.”

“Didn’t know what you liked so i got it cream and sugar.”

“It’s good, that’s how i usually take it.” totally not true, you actually take it with milk but you’re not sure you’re staying long enough for him to have to know that. He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly, Dean.” you mumble before trying the coffee. It’s not bad, not your usual taste but definitely still enjoyable.

“���S no problem, you’re always welcome with us, i gave you my number so you could call me at anytime.” you can’t be held responsible for any of the fluttery feelings in your stomach after that. 

“I guess… i felt like i was slipping, you know? My parents— me and jess never talked to them and they didn’t even call me when she died, i literally had no one, as pathetic as it sounds. Our dad’s side hates us, my mum’s side is on the opposite side of the world and they’ve been calling me but it’s not the same. Its not fair to do this to you two but i dont now what else to do, i just wish someone would tell me.” you're not certain when the first tear started flowing but your thankful its the only one.

“Hey, we’re here for you. Always.” Somehow, you don’t believe it.

[marbl3z]

Dan Heng rambles

i. ok listen, i know - i just did a fic with him, but- ok so. heres a funny story,

.

.

i love him a lot,, iM SOrRY

sfw and nsfw. 18+

SFW

Dan heng who seems to be so put together and reserved to everyone else but melts against your hugs. Prefers having his head on your chest, his ear listening to your heart. but he does not mind if the roles were switched, he'll hold you against his chest and kiss the top of your head.

He loves when you hold his hand when no one is looking, squeezing it gently when you notice his anxiety. He loves when you guys are cuddling you play with his hair. Kissing and twirling it around your fingers, the gentle scent of the shampoo he uses filling your senses.

he adores it when you get pouty at him because he stayed up too late entering stuff into the data banks. You'll pull him away from his work, pulling his head against your chest, giving him gentle head scratches and laying down on his futon with him in your arms.

Dan heng swears he never gets sick as he is always cautious. But every now and then, he'll get a common cold, or the flu. And he'll refuse for you to touch him as he doesn't want you to become sick as well, but the moment you have your arms around him, or the moment you're so close to him, spoon feeding him soup you made in the kitchen. His heart flutters and he can't help but ignore the sickness, and ask for one kiss, or one hug. (It's never just one)

hes such a nervous lover, hes scared you'll get hurt by him or his past. he's slow and patient (i may expand on this ehe), he'll treat you as if you were a sacred treasure for him, and him only. his lips are sensitive and when you kiss him it feels 10x warmer and softer.

he gets cold easily, he doesnt complain though. he'll just wrap a blanket over his lap and continue working in the databank, if you're there with him, he'll subtly scoot over to you and continue reading. eventually it'll turn into cuddling, his arms around your waist, his face buried in your neck. soft and gentle touches make his heart swell, brushing your lips on his knuckles, booping his nose with your own, forehead nuzzles, everything, it makes him feel so soft and he loves you more and more.

"starlight", "love", "sweetie", those petnames he'll use when its just the two of you, in a soft setting, holding his hand. cuddling, even before you two go to sleep, he'll call you any of those.

(18+ nsfw, mdni)

"baby", "Honey", and any of the likes, he'll use when you two are sharing a very intimate moment together. he'll be out of breath, whining and moaning against your lips, his large hand wrapped around your waist, hugging you against him. he'll be gentle, he doesnt fuck, he makes love in my opinion.

he'll be so lost in the pleasure he'll babble on about how much you mean to him, how good it feels, he's never felt this way before. its overwhelming for him, he'll leave soft kisses on your face and neck.

he'll whisper in your ears how close he is, his hips would stutter, his rhythm would falter, he begs you to cum with him. calling you his pretty lover, his sweetheart, his sweet baby. he'll kiss your lips, moaning breathlessly in your mouth, poor thing falls apart in your arms.

"love, please- i'm, ah- im so close," he whimpers in your ear, one hand on your hips, bringing you closer to him as he thrusts inside of you. the other caressing your face, listening to every moan and whimper you emit.

you call him your good boy, and he'll just LOSE IT. his eyes flutter close, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his grip on your hips would tighten for a moment. the rocking of his hips would stutter so much, he'll bite his lip to stop a loud moan. a muffled whimper as you give him sweet praises. your hands on his thighs.

"you're doing so well," he'll whimper, as he reaches closer to his climax. "my good boy, loving me so well," you coo in his sensitive ear. "i'm so close- Dan heng.." you moan wrapping your arms around him, hugging his body. "f-fuck, dan heng..!" you tighten around him, he'll press his body against yours, his cock twitching inside of you. his naval pressed so sweetly against your body, his body rubbing against your sensitive genitalia.

"c-cum for me, you're so good- s-so pretty.." he'll smash his lips against yours, rubbing your tip/clit as you near your orgasm.

"I-i love y-you, D-Dan heng," you breath out, your back arches as he hits your sweet spot. you tighten around him so much he can barely move. his eyes widen, watching your body arch, your blunt nails digging into his muscles, your blissful expression and your breathy moan.

his orgasm follows suit after yours, his hips faltering to a stop, a loud high pitched moan escapes his mouth as he buries his head in your chest. he's out of breath, he'll be so wobbly in the knees unsure if he can sit up to pull out of you. you press a gentle kiss on his neck, smiling softly at him catching his breath.

he'll eventually pull out of you, hissing lightly as he moves his hips back. he'll try to resist the urge to just lay down on top of you, he'll groggily put his boxers on and run to grab a warm towel to clean you up, kissing you sweetly and whispering sweet things in you ear as you tiredly help assist him in cleaning you up.

once you're cleaned he'll help you dress in comfortable clothes, his shirt or his pajama pants, or both. laying next to you, watching your expressions relax as you melt in his arms. you reassuring him that he didnt hurt you, and you love him so so much makes his heart swell, he has to hold back tears because he's so happy.

you two fall asleep entangled in each others arms, sweet dreams and gentle heartbeats. the world can wait, the only thing that matters is you and him.

OH AND HE REALLY LIKES WHEN YOU BOTHER HIM LOVINGLY-

im sorry its so long i love him a lot and i kind of went off during the nsfw part- gaahh!! /pos

[hockybish]

Bedtime Blues

l West Winds au l dad!trevor l masterlist l blurb l

"Do you trust me?"

"No Trevor, not when you don't-"

"Stop, Tallulah, just stop" Trevor cut her off

There was pause in the conversation. The couple looking anywhere but at each other, both not wanting to break the silence.

"I um, I think I should go home tonight"

Bean replayed the argument in her mind. It was stupid really a simple breakdown in communication that lead to her questioning him and him angrily leaving for the night.

If only he had talked to about the thing and maybe -

"Mommy! Daddy! I'm ready!" Zephyr's voice rang through their home.

He had been doing his nightly routine, which included a bath tonight. And now he was done and ready for his parents to read him a story and give him hugs and kisses.

"Hey baby" She kissed the top of his head, sitting in the bed next to him, pretending nothing was different from any other night. "What book are we reading tonight?"

"This one. I want Daddy to do the funny voices." The child proudly held out the book he chose.

"Is it alright if Mommy does them tonight?" Bean knew she was no where near the story reader that Trevor was, but she hoped and prayed that for one night, it would be okay.

"No, you don't do it right, only Daddy."

"I know baby, but Daddy had to leave, so Mommy has to do it."

"Daddy gone?" Bean nodded at her confused child. She could see the gears turning and a meltdown coming.

"But he didn't tell me goodbye." Zephyr's face turned from confusion to sadness when his lip started quivering and tears started flowing from his eyes.

"I'm sorry"

"No!" Zephyr started to get upset, throwing his favorite book and pushing his mother away before tossing himself on the floor crying. "I want my Daddy!"

~

Trevor knew leaving probably wasn't the best idea and most definitely wasn't going to solve whatever issue they were having. He just needed a moment, so spending the night in his own home was the best solution.

He was almost home when his phone went off, Bean's name popping up on the screen. He almost declined it by letting ring, but a gut feeling told him to answer it.

"What?" His voice came off a little more harsh than he intended.

"You never said goodnight." There was a lot of commotion in the background he could hardly understand what she was saying.

"What?" Trevor asked again, this time his voice changing becoming a little softer.

"You never said goodnight, you weren't here to read the story and do the funny voices." Bean's voice cracked over the phone. "He won't stop crying for you."

That's what the noise was. Zephyr crying.

"Please come back"

Bean didn't have to ask him twice. Once it was safe, Trevor turned the car around and sped off back towards his family.

Zephyr launched himself into Trevor's arms the moment he saw him. He wasn't too happy with his mother right now and just wants his daddy.

"What's wrong Zeph?"

"I don't love Mommy right now. Hate Mommy. Want you." Zeph rubbed his blanket over his tired eyes.

"Hey now, that's not very nice. Mommy loves you very much. She's trying okay buddy?"

Trevor could tell he didn't mean it, it was the sleep deprivation talking. In the morning after a good night sleep he could change his mind.

"Do you want to come home with Daddy?" He could feel Zeph's heading nodding against his chest. It was decided they'll have a little sleepover.

~

Zephyr fell asleep at some point in time on the drive to Trevor's. Exhaustion finally taking over and lull of the car convincing him to close his eyes.

Trevor laid him in his bed and snapped a photo, sending it to Bean, letting her know that they got to their destination and someone was already asleep.

tilly bean: im sorry about the fight Z: well talk about it tomorrow

tilly bean: i love you z Z: i love you more bean

They were going to be alright. She's his endgame after all.

[icarusredwings]

The Library. Pt 1.

The TARDIS disobeys her owner... again. Shocker. This time, though.. she takes him and Donna somewhere they REALLY don't want to be. Dinner can wait. There's someone here that needs him more.

A 14/River (RetiredSong) fic following my Retired Time Lords series. Oh and Donnas forced to be here too..

Standing at the front entrance, the doctor felt his hearts shaking in his chest, pounding so hard that it felt as if they were beating against his ribcage. Everything within him was telling him to run away. To go home. Run. For gods sake run. But he couldn't. His knees were too much like jello. All he could do was stare, frozen in place as multiple people walked around them, heading to read whatever book they could imagine.

Swallowing, he looked at the floor, eyes searching the tile for any sign or clues that might jump out of him. Turning his head, he saw that they each only had one individual shadow, licking his lips as he glanced up at Donna, who was crossing her arms (like always).

"Wot?"

"You're counting.."

"How do you know?"

"Well it's either that or you're intrested in the new shoes I got."

Donna's doctor snorted, shaking his head. He's been caught.

"They're nice. I'll give you that.."

"So-"

"Ssoo..... what?"

"This is the library."

He nodded, putting his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels like a child about to admit something to their parents and was extremly nervous about it. "Yu-puh."

"Like.. The Library"

"Uh-huh..."

"....Riv-"

"Nmhm..Don't."

"Okay.... Doctor?"

"Yeah?" Having not paying attention, it was like his attention snapped back to reality, thinking far too hard about something else.

"Why did the TARDIS bring us here?"

"I don't know.. shes funny like that I guess.."

Donna scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Funny??"

"Ereuugh. Yeh..." He shrugs, his voice becoming higher and softer in the end.

"... did you get a note on your paper?"

"No.. not this time. I just... I think she.."

Despite the lack of words, the way his wide eyes stared at the entrance, longing, waiting for someone to come through those doors that he knew oh so well..? Donna knew why they were here.

"Are you... okay?"

"Me? Oh yeah- Im okay. Thats me. Always okay."

"Time lord okay or human okay?"

"Mmmh.... the first one."

"....right. Sooo you're panicking."

"Yea..."

"Well... Brianna did say that you should face your fears more often and stop running from them...? Maybe the TARDIS is helping you."

The look that Donna received could kill a man on sight. Luckily, she wasn't a man. She only raised a brow at him, and instantly, his attitude changed, shaking his head and sighing. Putting his hands up, he turned around, trying to push the TARDIS doors open, but they were locked.

"Hey! Excuse me. I kinda live here."

"Not anymore." Donna muttered.

"Well, I have the keys still, so that means Im still allowed in. Hello??" By now, he became almost desperate, beginning to rub the side of the big blue box, whispering. "Ooh, come on old girl, you used to be such a sweet thing... don't do this to me.. please... Are you cross with me?"

Honestly, she should be used to this by now, but the redhead coughed a bit. "Should I leave you two alone?"

"Don't litsen to her. She's a mad woman. What if I leave her here hm? Would you like that?" He asked the box, patting it with a smirk.

Earning himself a slap in the arm, he was quick to flinch and chuckle as he rubbed the spot, pouting. "Ooww!"

"Oh shut it! Now you figure out why we're here! And quick! This place gives me the heebie jeebies.." she mumbled, hugging herself tight. She still had nightmares of this place. Of the children she lost but never actually had... quick milisecind thoughts of Lee. A man who wasn't even real. (As far as she knew)

"Hey, I don't know what her deal is either! You saw me tell her to go to Waksacarnus and she brought us here!"

"Oh great. Yeah, the time machine took us to the most terrifying library in the universe instead of the intersteller grocery store... how ironic.. Were you thinking of this place?"

Just then, The Doctor went silent, looking at her with eyes as if she had figured it out before him and now he was a wee jealous and embarrassed. "Nope! Not at all, definitely not!"

"What were you thinking about then!?"

"Blood beets!"

"You were thinking about blood beets? And magically YOUR telepathic ship brought us to the death library?"

"Well it's not anymore..." He looked around as if to be sure, seeing people smiling and carrying books to read. "Just seems like a normal library now..."

"Except this library has something no other library has..."

Cocking a fluffy brow he glanced at her, putting his arms up. "Well, no, duh, this is THE library! It has every copy of every book ever written!"

She gave him another look. Silent and staring with a glint of pitty in her eyes, pursing her lips and let her arms fall to her sides.

"... oh... Donna i-.. It's been so long I don't- w-What would I even say?"

"Everything."

"I.. i-cant I..." he looked at his hand, swallowing. "Donna I'm.."

He was married now. Well- he was always married. But he REmarried. He had left her here all alone and went off to be REmarried. His chest hurt just thinking about is actions, regretting them horribly, but the idea of stepping into this library? That was a worse feeling. One that made him want to call his other self to come pick him up and scold his own TARDIS for disobeying him for the millionth time. If he couldn't even trust his own TARDIS... who could he trust? And she knew. OH she knew how deeply this hurt him. The thought alone of his beloved box betraying him made him want to have a nervous break down right here, right now, infront of everyone.

"Yeah. To her. And about 7 others. So get along. You'd probably marry that thing too if you could."

"Huh?" He asked, still staring at the ground when asked, now looking up to her, baffled.

It was now Donna realized just how much this was fucking with him. Note to self. At the Library? Phycologically? The Doctor was screwed. He would have picked up on this tease any other day, and yet? Not a word. Just those eyes that said, "Im terrified because I can't save us." The eyes that she knew all too well. The eyes that he's also given her so many times before. And yet? Every time he succeeded in saving them. (More or less)

She decided it was time for plan B. This always worked on his younger self, maybe it still would.

"Alright. Guess you're just a featherless chicken then." She muttered, making an effort to check her nails and not look at those puppy eyes or else her persona would break.

"Wot? Feather.. less?" He made a whining noise as he suddenly realized that once again, without his fancy toys, he was useless. "Ooh... This is just like that maze all over again!"

"Which one?"

"Donna!!"

"Right. Sorry... erm...." Okay, that backfired.

"Should I call er... the other you?"

For a split second, he was about to say yes, before realizing that meant he would probably want to see River too and knowing him and her, they'd hit it off a little too well. He grunted, pouting almost, coming to the realization that he had to go see her. It's all he wanted right now.

"No."

But it felt so... wrong? Going to the love of your (multiple) lives and reconnecting with them after you told your husband just 10 minutes ago that you'd be back in time to watch The Great British Bake Off with him when you were supposed to be infact going to the store just to pick up some stuff for dinner felt so wrong.

"Yes??"

And yet.. his eyes kept shifting to the entrance, the bones in his body wanting to rush down to the basement and see if there was any smidge chance that he could at least talk to her.

"Ugh! I don't know!? What do I do?! Donna!" He whined again, his hands going to his hair and then rubbing his face, beginning to pace the way he usually did before having an inconvenient criss.

"You got yourself into this mess." She giggled. "Stop being such a 'pretty boy' and you wouldn't have to worry about everyone wanting to marry you."

"You think im pretty?" He pulled his hands away from his face, looking at her with excitment. He liked compliments. They fed his ego.

"Far from it, mate."

"Ooh!" He grunted again, grumbling some things."

"Come on, it's not that big of a deal. She's just a computer. I doubt he'll get mad about that."

This, for some reason, upset him greatly. She wasn't JUST a computer. She was IN a computer. There's a difference.

"Tch. Like you're one to talk. What's shaun going to think when you tell him you've visited the same place you met Lee, Hm? I doubt he'll get mad about that." This ending tone was mocking.

"Oi!! Just because your marriage is rocky doesn't mean that mine is!"

"So you're going to tell him?"

Her eyes softened as she thought of how she'd even begin to explain it. So many adventures with the Doctor where 'you had to be there to understand' moments and reciting them to others felt like a fairy tale..

"I... Yes! I-i am! And for your information, YOUR TARDIS brought us here to see YOUR wife. I had nothing to do with this! Besides!...He wasn't even in the system.. remember? Just a guy that I.. i dont know.. dreamed up?"

The tension between them was slit, cut, and a chunk removed. His head lowered, his eyes softened, and his brows looked the way a child might if admitting a mistake to a parent.

"Im sorry.."

"Yeah yeah.." She waved it off, taking a breath.

"No.. Donna." He takes her hand, pulling her close as he kisses it. His signature 'i really fucked up' apology. "I really am sorry... I just.."

"I know.."

"You don't. You really.. really don't. I promise that you don't." He mumbled. "I dont think there's anything in the universe I could do to make up for how much I've hurt you. I made a promise to make up for it.. and here I am. Doing it again. For what?"

She shook her head, putting it on his shoulder, resting into the hug. "..you're hurt too."

Pulling her away, he held her face and looked her in the eyes. "That doesn't give me an excuse to hurt you back. Never. I promised Shaun I'd look after you. I told him im the one that needs looking after, and he said I know. We have to look after each other, alright? So don't let me do that. That's... That's not who I am anymore. That's not who I want to be." He whispered to her as she nodded.

"Excuse me?"

The two jumped, separating and became defensive only to realize it was just a worker. At least thats what you could assume by the girls big glasses and the fact that it said "Librarian" on her shirt.

"Sir, you and your wife have to move that.. what is that?"

"Oh were not-"

"Pfft! Not a million years!"

"Yeh.. what she said. Anywho. That's a Police box. Otherwise known as my TARDIS. And unfortunately I can't move her. She's being stubborn!" He said this part extra loud, turning to glare at the box who did absolutely nothing.

"Sir, its blocking traffic and by Library saftey policy no large objects are allowed to block the path."

"Right... well.. as I just said, I can't. It's not like I want to be here in the first place.."

"Say doc... do you still have HADS on?"

His eyes brightened as he looked to the redhead with borderline mania. "Oh!! Yes! Donna you're a genuis!"

"Damn right.... wait.. why?"

Again, she spoke up. "Sir, this is your final warning. Please move your vehicle from out of the walkway. It's a safety hazard!"

"Oh wait- If HADS is on.. and shes not leaving.. that means she doesn't sense any threats. Still though you'd think from the last time she wouldn't want to come back.."

"But you had the HADS off back then."

The shorter Liberian blinked, cupping her hands together as she litsened, kind of annoyed that they were ignoring her. Bringing out a digital pad, she clicked a few buttons, and suddenly, with a bright light, some clicky sounds, and a WOOSH, the TARDIS was sent up to the moon, saved into the Libraries file.

"OI!! You can't just take that!! She's sensitive!"

"Bring her back right now! You dont want to upset him, I promise you that, let alone me!"

"Until you can move your vehicle, it's been safely removed and downloaded to the library. See the front desk to retrieve it. Have a good visit!" Handing him a ticket, she walked away.

"Oh I outta!-" The Doctor grabbed her shoulder.

"Donna.."

"That miffy little elf thing has it coming!"

"Donna...."

"Wha-" Turning, her jaw dropped just as his, staring at the beautiful white goddess infront of them.

"Is that-!?"

"River.."

[frostedpuffs]

HI @rosekasa !!!!! 💗

(have to answer this as a text post bc it's too long for an ask)

i LOVE this question, because it made me think!! i wont rate them in any particular order, and i don't necessarily think these scenes are the best I've ever written, but they're some of my favorites because of how much fun i had writing them.

putting this under a read more because im gonna paste the scenes and this ask might get long. some of this writing is a few years old atp so forgive the awkward wording in some places

Sewing Sentiments - Chapter 7 First Kiss Scene

"You're dear to me, too," Marinette said, longing to draw him in, to kiss him until she couldn't breathe and her lips turned blue. "I'm no good with words, Adrien, but...I do like you. I like you s-so much that I wish I could tell you just how much I like you. How much I…"

I love you.

The thought didn't startle her. Not as much as she thought it would.

In a short time, Adrien had become so dear to her. She adored him like no one else. He was the light of her life, the shining presence that brightened her day. One of her best friends.

Marinette wanted to be his girlfriend more than anything. 

(Now, she only needed to tell him that.

…Or show him.

Her eyes found his lips again, burning with the desire to know how soft they would feel against hers.)

"You're so cute," said Adrien. "Fumbling over your words for me. I'm touched."

"Don't make fun of me," she laughed. "I'm not going to kiss you now."

His eyes grew large. "You were going to kiss me?"

"Maybe," she said, the tip of her tongue poking out from her lips as she turned away. "But you're being mean, so I might have to reconsider."

"No, no, I'll be nice," he said, grabbing her hand. "I will be so nice. So nice, Marinette."

She turned back to look at him. "Promise?"

He wrapped her in his arms, linking his hands over the small of her back. "You have my word."

“Okay,” she said, and before she could psyche herself out of the budding confidence sprouting in her veins, she tilted her head forward and—with a moment’s hesitation—pressed her lips against his.

His lips were just as soft as she’d imagined.

No—softer, like pillowed clouds, fluttering through the breeze as they danced in tandem with the beat of her heart. With one hand trailing up to rest on his shoulder, the other found his neck, weaving her fingers along the soft blond hairs at his nape. As if he were mirroring her actions, she felt him do the same, unsure exactly where to place his hands but enjoying it all the same.

Marinette had to stand on the tips of her toes just to reach his lips; Adrien took it upon himself to lean down, angling his head in a way that left her breathless.

It was a little clumsy—a steady mixture of gentle, chaste pecks and lingering brushes occasionally interrupted by breathy laughs—but it was undeniably addicting. Adrien flooded her senses, filling her nose with his familiar scent. Every breath she took smelled of fresh mint. His hair was silk between her fingers, like delicate wisps of gold.

When she finally pulled away, reluctant despite her desperate need for air, she ran her tongue over her lips, swearing that her mouth tasted just a bit sweeter.

"Wow," breathed Adrien.

Marinette giggled. "Yeah. Wow."

Her muscles tingled, and every inch of her body buzzed aflame. With a sated smile, she drew closer, capturing his mouth again, and again, and again until both of them were subdued to a fit of quiet laughter and whispered praise.

Adrien pressed his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes, his face warm as the flush of his cheeks traveled across his skin. He looked so adorably content that she wanted nothing more than to dive back in and kiss him senseless, kiss him, kiss him until neither of them could form a single coherent thought, lost in the languid movement of their mouths.

Marinette had been kissed before. She'd been kissed plenty of times, of course. But those kisses, as fun as they had been in the moment, balked compared to the feel of Adrien’s lips roaming over her own, slow and curious and perhaps uncoordinated, but so wholesomely him that she wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.

It had been too long since she had last felt something so freeing.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed, his warm breath fanning her freshly kissed lips. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And you’re so sweet, too, and so funny, I—I can’t believe you—I can’t believe we…I just can’t believe—I mean, I've been going crazy all week, trying to tell you how much I like you and—and I—"

“Look who’s fumbling over their words now,” she teased, weaving her arms around his neck and pulling him closer—almost close enough to kiss him again.

Adrien shrugged, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was such an innocently intimate gesture that it had her melting like putty in his hands. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna kiss me all over again.”

“Maybe I do,” she said. Her fingers twitched as she brushed her lips over his, not quite pressing them together but close enough to elicit a gleeful little chuckle from his mouth. “Maybe I want you to stop talking so I can kiss you until I can’t think.”

“Well, that’s no fun.” He smirked. “How will you compliment me if you can’t think?”

“You’re gonna lose your kissing privileges.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’ll let that happen.”

“Shut up,” she teased, kissing him again.

---------------------------

Downpour pretty much the whole fic is one of my favorites because it touches on a darker subject/the stress of being a superhero, but this scene specifically i like.

"Can I ask something weird?" Chat Noir inquired, to which Ladybug nodded. "Do you ever think about, like…what would happen if we didn't win a battle? Like if we lost."

Oh. Oh.

Well, she'd never really thought about that before, at least not to a considerable extent. Sure, she often worried there would come a day when Papillon would seize the Miraculous for himself, but she had enough confidence in herself and Chat Noir to know they'd never let his crusty, evil hands near the precious jewelry. That's what they were there for—to stop him from stealing what was rightfully theirs.

(As "rightfully theirs" as two magical artifacts containing animalesque fairies could be, anyway.)

Thinking about it harrowed her, though. The idea of them losing to Papillon was disturbing in its own right, especially since nobody really knew what he would do with the Miraculous once he had them in his clutches. He could be bent on world domination, destroying Paris, or something equally terrible.

(Hell, he could even use them to injure Chat Noir and herself just for being a thorn in his side—but that thought made Ladybug's chest hurt, and she didn't want to dwell on the possibility any longer because…

Well, because thinking about her partner getting hurt was devastating. The concept often kept her up at night. His reckless behavior really got out of hand sometimes.)

Ladybug sat up and released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes locked with his.

"Sometimes," she finally answered, though it felt unconvincing. "Most of the time, though, I worry about you. You're always jumping in to protect me without caring about what happens. You know how much that scares me, right? I care about you."

Her heart thudded. The thought of losing Chat Noir was too difficult to bear, so difficult that if she kept thinking about it, she knew her eyes would burn with the threat of tears, and crying was the last thing she wanted to do in front of him tonight.

No crying. Not now. It wasn't a good time.

"Oh," was Chat Noir's response. His voice was light and breathy; barely audible above the sounds of wind and rain. "I-I didn't know you…"

Ladybug patted his hand. "It's okay."

"It's not, though," Chat Noir said. His shoulders were hunched together like a child that had just been scolded. "I don't mean to scare you. I just know you're more important to the mission than I am, so—"

"Shut up," Ladybug huffed, surprised by the bite in her tone. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Chat Noir. I don't want to hear it. You're just as important to Paris as I am, and I wouldn't even be doing this if you weren't by my side. You matter just as much as I do!"

Chat Noir's face softened. He opened his mouth to speak, lips parted in preparation for a word (or two), but then he closed his mouth and pushed himself to a stand, arms wrapped around himself as he walked to the edge of the terrace awning and stared out at the city. "I'm glad you think so," he whispered. "And the people of Paris, too. It's just hard to convince myself sometimes."

"And why's that?" Ladybug asked. She stood and trailed after him, stopping at the awning's edge, where rain splattered the pavement. Her shoulder brushed her partner's. He responded to the touch by stepping closer.

Chat Noir met her gaze, his eyes cloudy and so full of despair that it almost made her want to wrap him up in a warm blanket and carry him home to her bed so she could snuggle the frown off his face.

(Almost.)

"It's too personal to say much about," he said. "But you're the only one who can purify akumas. Do you remember that one time you couldn't transform quickly enough to get to where the villain was, and I was just running around the city like crazy with an akuma in my hands? I accidentally said the F-word in front of a kid! You should have seen the glare his mother gave me. It still gives me chills."

Ladybug swallowed the laugh that threatened to bubble up from her chest. "I remember. I'm still so sorry about that, kitty."

"It's okay," he told her, but the humor that had momentarily flashed in his gaze had already faded. "But it still worries me. Because what happens if you're hurt or stuck somewhere and I can't purify the akuma or fix the damage it caused? You know what happens when they get free. They multiply. And then the city would be in terrible danger. So, yes, you are the main concern when fighting akumas, because if you get injured and can't do your job, then we're screwed." He kicked a stay pebble across the floor; it bounced, clattering across the rain-soaked terrace. "That's why I'm always diving in to protect you. Because even if I get hurt, we can still win. You can still win. And that's all that matters."

Feeling her heart clench at his words, Ladybug touched her partner's shoulder. "I...wh...you. Okay, hold on. Sometimes I don't need saving, Chat Noir. You're reckless. You dive in before you even give me a chance to defend myself."

"That's not true—"

"Yes, it is!" she snapped. He flinched, and remorse instantly bled down her shoulders. She corrected her tone before she spoke again. "I'm sorry. Sorry, it's just…it hurts me when you sacrifice yourself. I can't stand seeing you throw yourself into battle like you mean nothing! I care about you, and I—"

"But I am nothing!" he shouted, his voice cracked with hollow despair. "Why does it matter so much to you when you've obviously beaten akumas alone? I want to be here to protect you so you can continue to do that just in case something happens, and I can't be by your side anymore!"

Ladybug's brow furrowed. Her hands clenched at her sides, trembling fiercely, and her chest squeezed with each breath she took in, quicker and quicker in succession until she was practically panting from frustration and sadness and—and some other emotion she didn't want to think about right that second.

"Why does it matter to me?" she asked incredulously, a hint of venom in her tone. "It matters because you're important to me, Chat Noir! I don't get why you can't see that. And, yeah, sometimes I have to fight akumas alone, but I don't like it! It's not fun. It's hard, and it sucks, and every minute I'm out there by myself, I hate it because all I think about the entire time is how much I want you by my side. How much I miss you!" She jabbed a finger into his chest. "I always want you by my side, even if the battle is easy. You make it better. You aren't nothing. You matter to me. You make being Ladybug more bearable. I enjoy having you in my life! You're my best friend, damn it, and I don't get why you can't see how much I love you!"

Chat Noir's jaw went slack, then snapped shut. His pupils blew wide, growing from thin, black slits to black spheres that, if Ladybug's eyes weren't fooling her, sparkled with tears. He reached toward her, his clawed fingers hesitating momentarily before pulling back. Then his arm lowered to his side.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked shakily. His eyes never wavered from hers.

Ladybug swallowed thickly, feeling slightly out of breath from her outburst.

What did she mean…? Did she even have an answer to his question?

She said nothing. The weight of Chat Noir's raw emotion resonated heavily in her chest.

Chat Noir licked his lips, voice faint and cracked as he asked, "Did you mean anything by that?"

"Yes," she answered, finally relaxing. She glanced at the floor. "I-I think I did. I'm just not sure I really know how I meant it, though…"

"Th-that's okay," her partner breathed, reaching forward to gently—ever so gently—tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "It just, um. Feels nice to hear you say it. Even if you don’t have it figured out yet."

---------------------------

A Simple Suggestion - Chapter 21 Lake/Rope Swing scene

“Look,” [Adrien] said, pointing to the top of a large oak that craned over the lake's edge. It was jutting out from a small overhang, the water's surface about a half-meter drop from the rocky face of the ledge. “There’s a rope swing.”

Marinette’s expression fell flat as her eyes landed on the weathered old rope dangling from one of the oak’s branches. “Oh, no.”

“I’m doing it,” Adrien said, letting go of her hand and walking down to the sandy shore. “You can’t stop me!”

“Adrien,” she laughed. She nearly tripped over a stray root as she followed him off the path, silently mourning the loss of his touch. “You’re gonna walk back to the cabin soaking wet?”

He paused, plucking at his black overshirt and eyeing it warily. “You’re right. My dad would kill me if I ruined this shirt.”

“Come back,” she said. She didn’t want to admit how badly she missed holding his hand. 

Adrien turned his head to look back at her. With a smirk, he began to undress, slipping off both his shirts. His T-shirt caught on his head momentarily, ruffling his hair as he finally pulled it free. 

“Adrien!” She squawked as he began shucking off his pants. Her heart beat wildly, and her eyes told her to look away, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his near-naked form. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, Buginette. You’ve seen me in my boxers before.”

She sputtered, her cheeks a fiery red. “B-but that was before—”

“Before you knew Chat Noir’s identity?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Newsflash, Ladybug: it’s been Adrien Agreste’s underwear you’ve been seeing the whole time.”

Marinette’s face felt so hot that she felt like she would melt into a puddle of blushing goo. She glanced away for just a moment, but her attention was torn back to the boy in front of her as he tugged on the rope to test its stability. She did not—would not—look at his butt.

She wouldn’t do it. No matter how cute she knew it looked in those black Gabriel-brand boxer shorts, she would not look at Adrien’s butt!

...

She looked at his butt.

Yeah, she thought, grinning. That’s a good view.

“You think it’s safe?” Adrien called toward her.

Crossing her arms, Marinette shook her head. “If you get hurt and I have to explain to the Ladyblog why Chat Noir is out of commission, I’ll kill you.”

He stuck his tongue out in retaliation. Grabbing the rope and taking a few steps back, Adrien braced himself, pausing for a moment before he dashed off the ledge and flung himself into the lake, the once-still surface rippling from his dive. His collision with the water caused a few small waves to rush to the shore. As a few water droplets splashed onto Marinette’s face, she rolled her eyes, wiping the wetness from her cheeks.

She waited for her partner to surface, watching with her hands on her hips, ultimately unimpressed. 

And she waited.

And waited.

…He should’ve come up for air by now.

“Adrien?” she called, stepping toward the water. He didn’t answer. “Adrien!”

Damn it, Marinette thought, kicking off her shoes and preparing to leap into the lake after him. If he got hurt—

Adrien’s head breached the dark water, gasping for air. He wore a stupid grin as he swam toward her, his hair sticking to his forehead and wet droplets beading down his face. “Look,” he said, holding his hand in the air. In his palm was a smooth gray stone. “I found a cool rock.”

Marinette stomped her bare foot on the sand. “You idiot,” she hissed. “I thought you got hurt! I was about to jump in after you.”

Smirking, Adrien rested his arms on the small rock ledge he’d jumped off, gazing up at her with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. It made her sick.

(Not really. She’d never get tired of those eyes.)

“Aw, Marinette,” he cooed, placing his head in his palm. “Do you care about me or something?”

“Yes!” she shouted. 

“Gross,” he laughed.

She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re gross.”

“Not as gross as you being in love with me.”

Marinette sucked in a breath through her teeth, whipping around to face him. “I am not."

Pushing his wet bangs away from his forehead, Adrien snickered. “I thought you didn’t like liars, Marinette.”

“That’s it,” she huffed, a wave of confidence surging through her as she began to pull her dress over her head. Once free from the confines of her clothing, she folded it neatly and placed it on a rock away from the sand, marching her way over to the ledge. “I’m coming in there and drowning you myself.”

She didn’t miss the way Adrien’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as she undressed. Truthfully, she felt a little embarrassed to be in her lacy pink undergarments in front of her partner, but she held eye contact as she grasped the rope hanging from the tree. Adrien gaped up at her, his pupils blown wide. He at least had the intelligence to swim away from the rock ledge to give her enough space to leap. 

“This better not break,” she grumbled. 

“It’s okay,” Adrien said, sounding slightly out of breath. She wasn’t sure if his cheeks were red from the cool temperature of the water or from the fact that she was half-naked in his presence. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“And drown us both? I don’t think so.”

Adrien’s grin was all teeth. “You have so little faith in me?”

Marinette scowled down at him, hating how badly she wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off his face. Taking a few steps back, she braced herself for a second, mentally counting to three before she sprinted off the ledge. She swung in the air, and as she let go and collided with the water, Marinette was reminded of being at the mercy of her yo-yo, zipping over rooftops and flying over the city with her partner by her side.

Breaking for air, she gasped and shrieked, her body trembling from just how cold it was. 

“Adrien!” she cried. “You didn’t tell me it would be freezing!”

He held up his hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t think you were going to come in!”

Despite her shivers, Marinette’s shook with laughter. She hugged her arms around her body, rubbing her hands up and down her skin to try to recuperate the loss of her body heat. Adrien joined her in her laughter, and together, they filled the air with childish giggles, splashing each other.

They spent the better of the morning milling about in the lake. Marinette couldn’t count the times they’d both jumped from the rope swing, and by the time the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, Adrien had made himself a nice collection of rocks and shells he’d procured from the sandy bottom of the lake. 

It felt so lovely just to be with him that Marinette couldn’t stop smiling. Her heart felt light. For the first time in nearly two weeks, she was indescribably happy. 

---------------------------

Perfectly Platonic (Unless...) Chapter 19 the wedding pact scene

“Adrien?” [Marinette] inquired, setting her empty glass aside. “Do you want to get married someday?”

He choked on his drink. Sputtering, he asked, “T-to you?”

Marinette’s hand clenched around the tablecloth. “I meant in general.”

“O-oh.” He took a breath to steady himself. “Yeah, of course I do. I really want to. Someday.”

She watched the bride and groom as they twirled around the dance floor. “I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance.”

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, she frowned. “You know why.”

It took him a moment to process the question. Once it settled in his brain, his expression softened with mutual understanding. “Oh. That.”

Her mouth tasted bitter, and not just from the wine. “Who would want to marry me when I'm never around? When can I never tell anyone why I leave so often? It wouldn’t be fair. Marriage is about trust and honesty. How would that be possible, being with someone who doesn’t know? Who could never know for their safety?”

Adrien smiled sadly. He was quiet for a long moment, drumming his fingers on the table. Then, setting his empty glass on the coaster, he stood from his chair and offered her his hand. “Want to dance?”

Surprised but not at all unwilling, Marinette nodded. She grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull her to a stand.

“Marriage is a tricky subject,” said Adrien, leading her to the dance floor. A soft song played, trickling through the air in a beautiful melody of piano keys and violin strings. Placing one hand on her waist, he used the other to lead her around the floor in a slow waltz. “I understand where you’re coming from. It’s scary to think about.”

Glancing down at their feet so she wouldn’t step on his toes, Marinette laughed softly. “I don’t know if I would call it scary. More like...intimidating.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because that’s a commitment,” she said. “And it wouldn’t be fair to whoever I marry—if anyone at all—if I’m not around often. If I can’t tell them the truth about who I am, then what’s the point?”

Adrien hummed in thought. “That makes sense.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “So I guess that, so long as I’m Ladybug…” She blushed as Adrien pulled her closer. “I can’t hope to get married, can I?”

A frown creased Adrien’s brow. “That’s not true.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it is. It wouldn’t be fair to whoever I dated if I told lies constantly.”

“I guess so,” said Adrien, twirling her.

“And what about children?” she continued. “I wouldn’t be able to tell my kids who I am. And I don’t know if I would want to bring children into a world where Akumas attack on a near-daily basis, anyway. It isn’t safe. I’d rather spare them from unnecessary trauma.”

Adrien’s frown deepened. “But you want kids, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love children.”

“Well, if you could have kids, how many would you want?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Three.”

“Three is a good number.”

“What about you?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “How many would you have? If you could.”

His smile was soft and inviting, as warm as the summer sun and one thousand times brighter. “Three.”

Marinette swallowed. 

Three.

He’d said three.

Suddenly dizzy, she braced herself with both hands on his shoulders, overwhelmed by just how desperately she wanted that future with him. “B-but how can I hope to achieve that when safety is uncertain? When I already have so many responsibilities as Ladybug and Guardian? Keeping those secrets from my spouse or family wouldn't be fair. It's just…” Her heart sank as the thought weighed heavily on her mind. “It's too dangerous. I can’t be with anyone while I’m Ladybug.”

Anyone but you, anyway, she mused.

Adrien was the only one who understood.

(She only wanted him. Why couldn’t he see that?)

Noting her change in demeanor, Adrien pulled her closer, continuing to lead her in a slow dance. “Well, lucky for you, I have a solution.” 

“Oh?” She grinned. “And what solution is that?”

He winked, smirking wide enough to show off his perfect white teeth. Lightly poking her nose with one hand, he squeezed her fingers with his other. “You need to marry someone who understands you. Someone who won’t become suspicious of your mysterious habit of disappearing. Someone who always has your back and trusts you unconditionally. So, my solution is—” 

She gasped as he dipped her low, bracing her with his hand slotted on the small of her back. 

“—Just marry me," he finished.

Fuck.

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. Eyes widening, she froze, absolutely stunned.

He’s got to be joking, she thought, her heart beating so hard she swore it would pop out of her chest. He loves flirty jokes. That kind of joke is right up his alley.

He doesn’t want to marry me.

…Does he?

She choked out a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a whimper. Her mouth flopped open and closed as she fought to find her voice. Eventually, she gasped, “Are you…proposing to me?”

His green eyes sparkled with mirth. “Nah. I don’t have a ring with me. And it’s not like you’d say yes, even if I did.”

Don’t be so sure, she thought, feeling light-headed as he pulled her back up to her feet. Disappointment curled in her gut like a cold, hard stone.

Instead, she offered an awkward laugh in response. “I...um. You know, I…”

What could she say? “Yes, I would” or “I’d marry you right now if you asked me”?

Ridiculous.

“...Never mind,” she said, heart sinking.

Adrien cocked his head to the side, offering a smile as he settled his hand back on her waist. “Listen. We’ve known each other a long time, right?”

“Right,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“And we’re great friends,” he continued. “So, how about this: if we’re both single by age thirty, let’s get married. Just for the hell of it.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

“J-just for the hell of it?” she asked, hopeful. “N-not for any other reason?”

“Or for the tax benefits, I guess,” he joked.

Marinette snorted, amused despite her chagrin. “Y-yeah. The tax benefits. Sure. But I want kids earlier than thirty.”

“Fine,” he chuckled. “I can be your sperm donor.”

Startled, she burst into laughter. “You’re ruining the vibes, Adrien!”

“Nah.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I think they’re only getting better. Wouldn’t you agree?”

As they moved around the dance floor, bodies pressed close together, a fond smile stretched across her face. “Why even be a donor, then? We can have kids as friends.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. After a moment, he laughed, the sound breathy and light. “Okay, so we’ll get married—as friends—and then have three children.”

“As friends,” she added.

He nearly doubled over from the force of his laughter. “What’s next? Adopting a hamster?”

“Woah, slow down,” she joked, linking her arms around his neck. “I think that teeters too far outside the friend zone.”

“So getting married and having babies is fine, but adopting a hamster crosses the line?”

“Adopting a hamster is a big event, Adrien. You have to go to the pet store and pick one out together. That’s like a whole thing.”

“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “Forgive me for being confused, but how is that a bigger event than, I dunno…giving birth?”

"We don't get to choose what our kids look like. But we might argue over the color of a hamster."

"Good point," he laughed. "But I'm sure our hypothetical kids—and hamster—would be gorgeous."

"You don't know that," she said. "We could get an ugly hamster."

"Well, at least our kids won't be ugly. We've both got great genes."

"Yeah," she breathed, eyeing him appreciatively. "That's true."

He grinned, pulling her closer. His breath was warm on her face as he spoke softly. "I hope they have your eyes."

Feeling hot, Marinette swallowed. "N-no," she whispered. Subconsciously, she leaned in, seeking the heat of his breath with her lips. "I hope they have yours."

---------------------------

and finally probably one of my favorite scenes i have ever written in my LIFE

Perfectly Platonic (Unless...) Chapter 20 the drunken kiss

Her eyelashes fluttered as she met his gaze. “It’s been so long since the last time I was kissed that I don’t even remember what it feels like.”

“Oh,” he said. His heart danced wildly in his chest. Well, that just wasn’t fair. Ladybug shouldn’t go kissless. Of all people, Marinette deserved a nice kiss. “I’ll—I’ll kiss you. If you want me to. So you can—can remember.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes glowed like starlight as she sat up, looking up at him with such an intense fire in her gaze that he became lightheaded from her attention alone. “You would?”

He nodded furiously. Frantically. “Absolutely.”

“O-okay,” she said.

He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “You…you want me to?”

Ladybug nodded. Her cheeks were flushed, dusting her freckles in a pleasant shade of pink. Wisps of dark hair framed her face as she inched closer, her lips mere millimeters away from his. “Y-yeah. Just so I can remember.”

“If you’re sure,” he said.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Doesn’t have to mean anything, just…just to feel.”

Chat Noir swallowed hard. He wasn’t even sure if his voice was working anymore, but somehow, through the cloudiness in his head and the frantic racing of his heart, he breathed a faint, “Okay."

There was no backing out now. Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he leaned in.

It was over before he’d even processed what it felt like. Just a quick peck—nothing more than the chaste press of lips on lips, every sensation dulled by the buzz of alcohol in his brain. 

…Huh.

It was strange. He had always figured a kiss with Ladybug would feel like sparks, fireworks, or a burning blaze, but…

But he’d barely felt a thing at all.

His stomach felt sour with disappointment. Though he tried not to let it show on his face, he knew Ladybug had picked up on it.

“What?” she asked as her expression fell. “Not good?”

Chat Noir shook his head. “It’s not that.”

“Then...what is it?"

Despite himself, a small smile cracked its way through his frown. “It was too quick. Didn’t really feel it.”

“Oh.” She scooted closer. Gently cupping his cheeks in her gloved hands, she tilted her head. “Here, then.”

Soft.

That was the first word that slipped into his mind as she kissed him. Soft, warm, sweet, and wonderful were next, embracing his entire being and wrapping him in a thick cloud of sensation. She was so soft, so—so amazing, beautiful, and her lips felt so good—

The relief that flooded his veins felt like a breath of fresh air. He’d wanted to kiss her for years, and now he finally was, and oh—

—he could taste the bitterness of the wine as their breaths mingled, feel the warmth of it as it puffed on his face, could smell the fruity aroma of the Merlot—

And then her lips were gone, replaced by the chill of the empty night air.

When he finally blinked open his eyes, his head spun from joy. 

Ladybug stared up at him through her lashes, cheeks red and eyes sparkling like firelight. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled, her nose scrunching adorably as she giggled.

It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life.

“Thanks,” she said. “That was nice.”

Chat Noir felt as if he was floating. “Y-yeah. Nice.”

Nice.

It had been more than nice, that was for sure.

She glanced at his lips. Then, tortuously, she licked her own.

He whimpered, his heart lurching with pure want. They’d only meant to share one kiss, to remember what kissing felt like. But now, as he stared at her lips—which were as pink as a peony, so soft and delectably kissable—he felt as if she was a drug, and he was undeniably addicted. 

(And the longer he sat there without the bliss of feeling his mouth on hers, the more the symptoms of withdrawal set in, needy as it sent a never-ending mantra to his brain of want-need-want-please-more-please.)

His hands twitched at his sides. It would be so easy to kiss her again…and it would feel so amazing, too…if only he could…

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first.

When their lips pressed together, it wasn’t the same hesitant kiss they’d shared before, which had been slow and tinged with curiosity. It was charged with something more desperate—something he couldn’t explain but didn’t care enough to. All that mattered at the moment was the feeling of her lips on his, soft as they glided along his in a fervent motion, and the warmth of her wine-scented breath as it blew into his mouth, like kindling to the ever-growing fire that blazed in his heart. Even as their noses bumped and teeth lightly clashed, he wanted more.

When her lips parted, his stomach tingled with excitement. His hands cupped her cheeks to draw her closer, to drink in her scent and—as her tongue slipped into his mouth—her taste.

(She tasted like heaven. Like pure stardust, she flooded his senses, overwhelming his every thought with nothing but her.

Of Ladybug. Of Marinette. His Lady. 

His love.)

Chat Noir sighed and tilted his head to the side to achieve a better angle, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Her skin was still damp from her tears, and as her hand reached up to rest over his, she gave him an affectionate squeeze. He could almost cry from the simple intimacy of it—as simple as making out with his best friend could be, anyway.

Her mouth was hot around his tongue, sizzling his senses with a pleasant burn. As their chests pressed together, he wondered if she could feel the frantic thundering of his heart. She was so warm, so soft, so—so Marinette.

He was kissing Marinette.

When her fingers fisted in his hair, he moaned.

“Chaton,” she whispered against his lips. “My kitty…”

He barely heard her. Drunk from the affection (and alcohol) swimming through his head, he barely managed a hum in response before his lips connected with her chin, following an invisible path that journeyed from her mouth to her cheek and then her jaw.

“Chat Noir,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Mm, what…”

Her sharp inhalation cut off her words as he dragged his lips down her neck and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her pulse.

(What were they doing? This wasn't the plan. They were only supposed to kiss once.

Then again, if she didn’t want this…she could push him away, couldn’t she?

He knew he should stop. Of course, he knew. But it was so hard, and she smelled so good, and she felt so nice—)

“Adrien,” she moaned.

Fuck.

He snapped his head up at the sound of his name. It had been all the encouragement he’d needed to keep kissing her skin, but maybe they should stop before—

Ladybug’s lips crashed back on his before he could finish that thought, their shared breath hot as it smoldered between them. Her tongue was back in his mouth in an instant. Head spinning, Chat Noir groaned quietly as she gently took his lower lip between her teeth, tugging in a way that drove him insane, and oh, wow, had she crawled in his lap? Oh wow okay yes she had crawled in his lap and now she was suddenly kissing his neck and woah, were those her teeth? Oh okay wow yes she had just used her teeth and it felt so good and, okay, he was making some embarrassing noises because he’d had no idea that he had a thing for that until now and holy fuck—

He’d never imagined how amazing it would feel to have someone bite him.

“My Lady,” he gasped. “M-Marin—”

She shifted her hips, and he groaned.

Fuck.

Fuck, she was in his lap a-and moving her hips in a torturous motion, and ohh god her hands were pulling down the zipper to his suit, uh oh oh no—

He wanted this. He wanted it so badly. He wanted to let her explore him more than anything, but…

...No.

Chat Noir pressed his hands on her shoulders, edging her backward until her lips released his skin with a wet pop.

“My Lady,” he panted, their chests heaving in tandem as they fought to catch their breath, “h-hold on. Hold on. Woah.”

Ladybug tucked a loose wisp of her hair behind her ear. She looked so gorgeous with her cheeks flushed a tantalizing red and her lips kiss-swollen and so perfect that it was challenging to resist diving back in for another taste of her, but—

(But they were getting carried away. And they were both a little too drunk to be sure that this was a situation either of them wouldn’t regret in the morning.

…Not him, of course.

Never him.)

“We need to stop,” he said.

Ladybug swallowed. Licking her lips, she nodded and crawled off of his lap. Though brief, he noted the pang of disappointment in her eyes. “Y-yeah. Sorry.”

(Wow, she was panting. Had he done that to her?

…Did he have the same effect on her that she had on him?)

She fidgeted uncomfortably. Looking down at the street below, she made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Um, I don’t know why I…I mean…I…wow.”

“Yeah,” laughed Chat Noir. “Wow.”

“I…I don’t know what happened back there,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

His head spun from the absurdity of the apology (and probably the wine, as well.) “You’re sorry? Why?”

She buried her head in her hands. “I-I lost control.”

“Am I that irresistible?” he purred, bumping her shoulder with his.

Hiding her face against the side of his arm, she grumbled, “B-be quiet.”

She hadn’t denied it. Feeling giddy with affection, Chat Noir chuckled, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her against his side. 

---

I KNOW THIS WAS SUPER LONG SORRY. BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN DIGGING THROUGH MY FICS TO ANSWER THIS ASK!!! THANK YOU!! 💗💗💗

[formula-fun]

hi there, let me walk you throught the last few days of my life

saw a list of history recommendations here on tumblr last Friday, saw the series if I had words there and thought "well let's give it a shot!"

started reading Friday night, got obsessed with it, couldn't stop, finished max's part Sunday, a little after the race.

got sad it ended and then VERY happy when I remember about the other part!!

started reading Sunday afternoon, got obsessed with it, couldn't stop, finished charles' part five minutes ago

All of this to day, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WORK 😭😭😭

like WTH IS SOO GOOD

the construction, the order of the events, seeing everything fall into place after reading both parts, max learning to grow older and softer, charles understanding his feelings and letting himself have nice things, their mom's, the packs, the I love yous, oh my GOD 😭😭

broke my heart when I reached the end because I could keep read more and more and more of those two maybe forever??

definitely interest in a sequel or spin off or any little crumb showing just a peek of them again

again, amazing work, absolutely brilliant all around (and I was always laughing at your notes hahaha)

sending love !!

😭😭😭😭😭😭 thank youuuuuu i literally cannot tell you how much i love this, hhh. I DO NOT HAVE WORDS

this fic is truly my child, i put so much time and attention into it and i love the way it turned out so much <33 ive never allowed myself to just take my time on something and keep scrapping it over and over until it was exactly how i wanted it, but i'm so glad i did! it makes me really happy that other people appreciate the care that went into it and appreciate the way everything falls into place. i promise it was HEADACHE inducing at times to write two different stories about the same event but it was also really really fun

and thank you abt notes ahhahsahs i do NOT put as much effort into my notes. i usually write my notes at the last second after editing for like 3 hrs straight and just roll on vibes, so im glad you enjoy that <33

dfkjdfksd i'm running low on crumbs but you can have this!! it's from a version of the final chapter in which jos DID tell the press about the miscarriage

Max wakes him up with a kiss at the base of his neck, and then one on his mouth that lingers sweetly. His hands are hesitant on Charles’ waist, his touch light and skittish, which Charles always hates. Charles tells him so, and Max lets out a husky laugh.

“You want more?” he asks, his tone still hesitant even when his eyes are dancing. It makes Charles roll his own eyes, and then roll him; pin him down into the mattress by his wrists and bite at his jaw.

“I want you to touch me like you mean it,” he mutters into his skin.

Max’s wrists flex beneath his grip, muscles coiled and ready to fight. His mouth is curved when Charles kisses it, but he bites Charles’ lip anyway.

“Mean what?” Max whispers against his mouth when they part.

That I’m yours, Charles thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He can’t say it. He can’t really admit to something like that, yet; can’t allow himself to, even if he already knows it’s halfway true. He wants to mean it when he says it, and Max—Max hasn’t chosen him yet.

“That you want me,” Charles says instead. He brushes his nose against Max’s jawline; against his pulse point; follows the line of his throat down to the spot where his mark would go and lets his breath dance over it. Max’s chest goes stone still beneath his own.

Charles ducks forward and brushes a chaste kiss there, as softly as he can. Max shivers beneath him, his eyelids fluttering shut. His tendons shift under Charles’ palms as his hands clench into loose fists.

“Do you—”

In a blink they’re rolling over, Max pressing him down, one hand at the small of his back and the other beneath his knee. Max kisses him hard.

“Like I couldn’t,” Max hisses against his mouth when they part. “What kind of question is that?”

Charles just quirks an eyebrow. “Show me,” he says simply.

For a while, he’s able to forget about it all.

Of course it only lasts as long for it takes the two of them to shower, get dressed and part ways; as soon as he arrives in the paddock he’s swarmed. It’s not the fans—they’re not allowed back here today—or even that people are yelling questions. People know not to try; not when paddock passes can get revoked and fines can be given.

They don’t do anything so stupid, but it doesn’t matter. The scrutiny is just as bad; two dozen cameras following his every move as if waiting for him to do something.

He breathes a sigh of relief as he ducks into the Ferrari hospitality. Andrea slips in after him, and he’s kind enough not to say anything about the way Charles is morosely stuffing biscuits from the coffee bar into his mouth.

“I called your pack off,” he tells Charles, making himself an espresso. He almost manages to look disinterested while he does it.

Charles just raises his eyebrows. “Did you?”

“Well, Pierre did. They didn’t really listen to me.” He dumps two sugars into his coffee, stirring a little aggressively, and then rolls his eyes at the look Charles is giving him. “Oh, leave me alone. It’s been a stressful morning. How are you doing?”

Charles shrugs. “We knew this was going to happen,” he points out.

“Yeah, I know. That wasn’t really my question.”

“I’m,” Charles starts, then looks down at his biscuit; the crescent bite taken out of it. “It’s fine. I don’t think it has fully hit me yet.”

Andrea purses his lips. He nods. “Fred said they’re not allowed to ask any questions about it in the presser. You’re with Pierre, Alex, Oscar and George, so even if someone tries something, you won’t be alone. It was the best we could do.”

“Max?” Charles asks, in spite of himself.

Andrea’s lips somehow purse even harder. “The FIA was strongly advised to give him a week off.”

“But not me.”

“You wouldn’t want a week off.”

Charles hums. That’s true.

“Besides,” Andrea adds in an undertone, “I know you will want to set an example that this is not to be discussed in the paddock. It’s not Fred’s decision, obviously, but…”

“But you don’t trust Max to be able to do the same,” Charles finishes for him.

“I trust him,” Andrea argues. “I trust him to say what we’re all thinking, which is that this is stupid and everyone should fuck off. I just also know that will only make things worse.”

Charles tilts his head, conceding the point. He breaks a crumb off his biscuit; pushes it past his lips.

“Is he alright?” Andrea asks after a beat, his voice quiet. “After last night?”

Andrea had been the one to check on them when they hadn’t reemerged from the bedroom suite, only to find them curled up on the bed, Max having finally passed out. Charles had kissed his forehead before slipping out to join the media strategy session; had pulled the duvet over him as he went. He’d called room service after everyone had finally left, coaxing Max into eating comfort food in bed with him, some meaningless travel show playing in the background, giving Max’s red-rimmed eyes somewhere to drift when they refused to meet Charles’ own.

“He’s fine,” Charles mutters, then scrubs at his hair. “Or he will be fine. I don’t know. He has this stupid idea that he has to be the strong one all the time. He doesn’t feel like he should need me when I am the one who everyone is talking about, and when he thinks it is all his fault.”

“Why does he think that?” Andrea asks.

“Because Jos was the only one who could have told them. Nobody else knew. And Max was the one who told Jos.”

Andrea chews that over, sipping his coffee.

“I don’t know why it matters,” Charles adds. “It is out now. It doesn’t matter how it got out.”

“You could always sue Jos,” Andrea muses. “Defamation or whatever.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Isn’t it?”

Charles shrugs. Maybe it would give him some sense of satisfaction; probably not. “It would just give the media more to talk about,” he says. “It would make Max feel worse. I would gain nothing. It was going to come out eventually anyway,” he adds. “It was always a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

Andrea grimaces. “It’s hard to say,” he admits, “but these things tend to not stay secrets for long.”

[neverchecking]

[ignore if this goes against your rules!]

this may be a bit goofy but im fully convinced twilight has a lactation kink, especially after reading his alphabet post. whether his darling can produce milk or not- it doesn't matter, he'd love to just suckle on their nipples until they're red and swollen. he'll most likely let his partner do the same- hes only providing for his mate. plus we all know twilight has quite a full chest, its only fair he returns the favor. pov: when theyre BOTH big chested

breasts swell with milk when pregnant so if theyre currently pregnant, or post pregnancy, twilight's taking any chance he can get to have a go at their chest. even when the babys born, he's waiting patiently for his turn. cockwarming him while he feeds- hes moving his hands up and down your sides, grabbing at the thighs, hips, ect.

i just love the idea of twilight below his darling, looking up at them, pupils fully constricted. his face is flushed and red but he just can't get enough. i bet he does that thing that dogs do, licking the sides of his mouth and showing off his sharp canines (small hc that he has some canine-like features, so his teeth are sharper, and his tongue is softer, flatter, and can reach farther)

if we have an Isekaid!darling who just happens to have nipple piercings, its twilight's lucky day and he can't leave them alone. he'd probably find out by accident too. reader is minding their own business, and twilight glances over at them, but instead catches the imprint of the piercings through their shirt and his brain just crashes

i have many thoughts on this, especially with the letdown reflex

Oh it doesn't and I was drooling reading this.

He totally does. I'm convinced. Because as we've established, he's got a breeding kink. and If they're lactating, that means it worked. He bred his lover and their carrying his kid and this is just a physical reminder of it. Along with their swollen/swelling belly of course.

And if they get to suck on his nipples, he gets to suck on theirs. it's only fair >:(

BPTH BIG CHESTED NGONGG FROM A BIG CHESTED GIRLIE I LOVE THIS

Okay, but imagine cockwarming Twilight while he sucks on your tits, taking ever bit of milk you have left to spare. You just had his kid and he's already planning on pumping you full of more. (Twilight def has sharp canines and you can pry this from my cold dead hands. Along with that tongue headcanon bcf njfhfnf that IS SO GOOD-

OKAY BUT we need to talk about the entire chain with a reader with nipple piercings. But Twilight and his lactation kink especially are all over them. He may be an ass guy but if his lover has tits he cannot get enough.

I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS and what a letdown reflex is???