#except she cant be arsed

[sanguine-tenshi]

... I'm gonna have to write an Astarion/Lae'zel fic ain't I?

[jollyhunter]

♡ MILKSHAKE FOR TWO ♡

LOVERBOY ! SOLDIER BOY / BEN x fem!Reader [Happy Valentine’s Day!!]

WARNING Fluff, Angst (bearable), Smut with plot - NSFW - MDNI!; fingering, a lil' spankin', biting, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), softdom!Ben (gasp!), faking orgasm, Ben reprimanding you, aftercare (Ben's way lol), strong language, basically just a general warning for Soldier Boy, no use of Y/N

⋆ ˚｡⋆ NOTE Okay sweethearts, this is my first time writing for Soldier Boy so please be lenient with me. 😭 Getting this man's colorful speech feel right as a non-native English is a real challenge lmao

After reading the Loverboy!Ben Headcanons by @lovedahlia I finally found the courage to pick this idea up again! And thanks @zepskies Coffee Shop Hadcanons for inspiring me with the sweet ending!! (and the pussy drink 💀)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY The lovey-dovey atmosphere around Valentine's Day did little to ease your ache. To put it blunt; Lately your love life's been... let's say dull. Since for whatever reason getting off was turning out to be frustratingly difficult. Or more like, impossible; You just outlast any man in bed.

Well, except maybe for the cocky bastard of a supe seated across of you… Who you’d just made a bet with.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS ~7.4k [my longest fic so far!? 😭]

♡ MILKSHAKE FOR TWO ♡

One, two, three, five - now another orgasm. You lost count. He keeps rocking his hips as you ride another one of your highs out, his cock throbbing inside you -

“Is it hot?” Ben’s gravely voice throws you right off your imaginary man, eyes snapping up at him with a look of panic and confusion.

The warm scent of weed wafts through the musky air and hits your nose, reminding you of your situation; Right. You’re here to ‘babysit’ Soldier Boy while he’s meticulously rolling joints and taking a swig of his beer every now and then.

“W-what?” Your thumb quickly swipes away the fanfic on your phone’s screen, feigning innocence.

“The picture of your boyfriend’s dick.” He replies. The motel’s dim light frames the intense gaze occasionally drifting toward you, a teasing smile tugging at his beard when he continues. “Can’t ignore the way you’ve been practically eye-fucking that thing for the past six joints.” He jerks his chin at the phone now tightly clasped under your hands likes it’s holding all your sins in one place.

“What- that’s not- no- what the hell.” You stutter, while you’re secretly relieved that his mind took a different direction.

“Hm,” he grunts, unconvinced, his eyes briefly closing. You tense up in the couch when his elbows slide off the table, now resting on his spread legs, his head tilting your way. “What’s it then, huh? Internet?”

Ah yes, you were looking at internet. Hughie had mentioned the word to him some days ago, but no one seems to have had the patience – or guts – to properly explain it to him. You smirk to yourself, but keep the mocking comment back. You didn’t want to risk him snatching your phone away again, as he had done many times before just to annoy you.

“Yeah, internet. It’s like a – a library, but digital, you know?” You try to explain. Your hands casually let the phone disappear in your jeans’ back pocket while you make sure to keep the discussion going. “How do you even know about dickpics? My gramps sure as hell wouldn’t know.”

“Oh fuck off.” He throws you a half-arsed scowl over the edge of his canted beer, “I basically invented it. The concept of showing off your dick to your girl ain’t that goddamn new-fangled.” He sneers the word ‘new-fangled’, his free hand waving dismissively in your direction.

The frown on his lips shifts into a crooked smile at what seems to be a particularly fond memory popping up in his mind. Cute, it suits him.

“I once had Warhol print my dick in the colors of the American flag. Surprised Countess with one on every fuckin’ wall.”

“Wow.” You can’t help but shake your head and crack a laughter at the mental image. “I bet she was ecstatic.”

“Oh you can bet my nutsack. That night we fucked like bunnies. Skeeted those paintings. Redecorated the whole damn thing.” He grins like a proud boy before his fond smile suddenly flips, “Now the bitch’s gargling dirt.”

The air thickened and your chest tightens. Only the sound of his fingers briefly strangling the neck of his beer bottle fills the tense silence in the room.

Your eyes drift to the ground, scrambling for something to say to steer the conversation away from his dead ex - but he beats you to it.

Ben has let out a heavy sigh after he took a swig, the beer bottle now tipped in your direction.

"So. No boyfriend then, huh?" He muses before he tilts his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, “Gonna spend your national fuck day all alone with a pillow between your legs?”

“I- I’m not spending my - as you call it so colourfully - ‘national fuck day’ with a pillow between my legs. Thank you very much.”

“No? Not gonna rawdog it while you’re thinking of me?”

Your eyes widen at that wild accusation - not that he was wrong about the latter assumption. But you certainly wouldn’t let him know that.

Your cheeks flush slightly and you quickly force your parted lips into a firm, tight line. “For your information. I’ll not spend my day all sad and pathetic home alone but will be going out to Jerry’s Coffeehouse and treat myself with an extra large matcha milkshake with chocolate chips and loads of vanilla syrup. And it’ll be my best fucking Valentine’s day.”

His eyebrow pops up at that, his sharp eyes observing you for a moment as if he’s considering something, his expression a mixture between amusement and something else which you can’t quite read.

After a moment his lips quirk, voice confident, but there’s also a hint of curiosity hidden behind it, “Ah, that’s a code word for you rounding the bases, hm? Get yourself a sweet fuckin’ home run. All Turn-Down and the whole nine yards.”

“What? No – agh - Not everything’s about sex, Ben.” You groan and drag a hand down your face, trying your best to hide the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “Unlike me, I bet you wouldn’t survive a day without jerking off if I wasn’t cockblocking you with my mere presence.”

“And I bet I could ruin you real fast if you didn’t act like a little tight-folded nun around me all the time.”

Your breath catches in your throat for a moment. In all these weeks, Ben never made a move on you. Not even a single attempt at flirting with you. To the point that - even though you knew you shouldn’t - you started to wonder whether it was your looks or your personality you’d have to blame for.

So, yes, you have indeed acted rather, let’s say, ‘reserved’ around Ben.

But that wasn’t because you were appalled by the thought of what he could do to you with you sprawled out beneath him, all open and inviting. Quite the contrary. It was because you liked the thought, but also didn’t want to fall for yet another man who’d just use you for his pleasure.

So you made sure to keep him at an arms length.

“Jesus, you’re so damn vulgar.” You utter, your back slumped against the couch’s armrest while you try your best to act unaffected by his words, “ You kiss a lady with that dirty mouth of yours?”

“What’s the deal with you chicks? I ain’t friggin' Cary Grant, y’know?” He takes a messy swig of his beer and briefly wipes his beard with the back of his hand, “Y’all so damn sensitive.”

“Yeah, I wish.” You grumble, the words slipping your lips before you can give them a second thought.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t believe me, sweetheart?”

“You know what? Yeah.” You retort out of nowhere, purely driven by all the pent-up frustration of the past months. Straightening up, you proceed to make it worse in such a confident tone which even surprises yourself, “I bet my ass that I could outlast you in bed.”

It was frustrating. And felt embarrassing. Really. It didn’t help that you tried to sell it as if it was an achievement worth an oscar.

"Well, that just proofs it then."

"Proofs what?"

"That you're a wuss-fucker. Just some pathetic fucking dicks dippin' in there." Ben jerks his head towards the spot hidden between your tightly crossed legs and he snorts in amusement at your grimace. "What? ‘Tis a real shame’s all I’m sayin’. I mean, what real man doesn't make sure his girl gets off first.” He leans back and sneers against the mouth of his beer bottle, “'S pathetic, really."

"Yeah, right." you roll your eyes, your voice tighter, "'Cuz I bet you're such a gentleman in bed. But you can't proof shit."

“Oh you’re on.” He quickly sets down the bottle and flashes his cocky grin at you, his voice dropping an octave to hit that tingling spot inside you, “I’ll have you cum so damn hard, you’ll be screamin’ and kickin’ while I hold ya down. And guess what, sweetheart…”

He pushes off the chair, his large frame looming over you before he bends down to your eye-level, his voice dipping into a low, deep gravelly tone, “I ain’t gunna let ya move a single inch… and have you take it like a good fuckin’ girl.”

Silence. Only the soft gulp of your last sense of self-control getting forced down your throat cuts through the thick air between you.

He holds your gaze, a playful smile spread across his lips when he straightens up again, his voice nonchalant. “‘Course, only if you want.”

“I do.” The answer came faster than you could even process it.

He looks back down at you, a flash of genuine surprise crossing his eyes before he covers it up with a smug expression, “Oh yeah?”

His words were like the flick of a switch.

Next moment clothings were flying across the room, partially torn as neither of you had the patience to get them off properly. The heat between you skyrocketed, heavy breathing filling your ears in tandem with intense drumming of your heart. Soft golden rays peek through the shutters, their light bouncing off his darkened eyes and casting shadows of wild, fervent bodies moving through the room like a tempest.

God you felt so pent up - it was driving you mad. The desperate need for relief, for reaching that sweet peak of ecstasy. It clouds your mind, has your will to think straight completely subdued.

Ben doesn’t seem to be in much more control either, his hands flying across your body, like he doesn’t know what to explore first. He pushes you up against the wall, the force deliberately kept to a minimum. His nose draws a line across your shoulder, inhaling your scent like a drug, all the way up your neck until he exhales again, the hot breath pressed against your skin under your jaw.

“Fuck me – you’re intoxicatin’, woman.” He rasps out, his voice raw and full of barely contained need.

Your breath comes out shaky, head tilted to the side without a second thought. “Ben,” you say his name close to a whine, your mind handing over the reigns to him, “Please don’t stop.”

“Won’t-” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled by the trail of kisses, “’M not gonna stop until you’ve cum.” His teeth skim along your pulse point and for a moment you feel like your legs give in. But he quickly steadies you, his large hands moving down your sides to hold onto your hips with a firm grip. “Promise.” He adds hoarsely, some of your skin now tugged between his teeth as he starts to leave love bites in his wake. “We got a bet goin’, after all.”

Your body’s now moving on instinct and for only one purpose. Your need, your heat, it’ll keep you going, you know it. No matter how long you’ll have to pant like a racing horse, no matter how much you’ll regret it the next day when you’ll feel stiff and aching at places you didn’t even know you had muscles.

It all doesn’t matter right now. It is all just you and him. The world reduced to his strong arms wrapped around your fragile frame, his muscles flexing as he lifts you up, and his world reduced to your legs wrapping around his hips, your aching core pressed up against his bulging boxers.

Your lips collide with his, their first meeting sending a bolt of pleasure through your body. Your mind goes hazy, your legs tighten around his hips and your hands hang onto his shoulder in an attempt to hold him close.

Your heads swivel, mouths working passionate. But to your surprise, Ben still keeps it slow, savouring every bit of your lips dancing around his. His tongue’s tasting the inside of your mouth as he swallows your moans and fills it with his own groans. Teeth gently pull at your lower lip before he finally breaks the kiss, to give you the chance to catch your breath.

You pant against him, your lips burning from the stubbles but still lingering there. You suddenly feel the rest of your body again, a shudder running down your spine, right to your aching core.

That’s when you notice how wet your inner thighs are, the slick coating your skin and folds. Ben licks his lips, the scent of your undeniable arousal filling his senses. He moves you on his hips, pinning you further against the wall to hold you in place with one hand while the other trails over the bump of your hipbones, dipping down between your legs.

“Christ on a Stake. You’re so fuckin’ pent up. What did those wusses do to let you leave like this?” He groans, fingers coating in your slick as he runs them down your inner thigh.

Your eyes briefly flutter closed, your hips bucking against him with the need for some friction already. “Please, I- Ah-fff- ” You mutter, your words cut short by a terribly needy whine when Bens fingertips brush across your clit.

“Yeah, yeah, calm the hell down” he chuckles, his lips back to suck a red mark at your neck, “’M gonna take care of that needy pussy of yours, dontcha worry.”

You nod, soft moans slipping your red puffy lips as he assaults every inch of skin he can reach. Your eyes widen with a yelp when you suddenly feel yourself getting heaved up high and your limbs flail uncontrollably in a panic.

“Hey- stop struggling darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt you.” He orders gruffly, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips to keep you safely in his grip. With one swift move he lifts you high enough for your legs to drape over his shoulders on each side, his palms now wrapping around the underside of your thighs to keep you pinned between the wall and his head. In moments like these you could feel a shiver run down your back, as you’d just been reminded again of the inhuman power imbalance between you two. Fuck - he could snap you in two if he’d want to.

“Now that’s a view I could get used to,” He growls, his lips curled into a hungry smile at the sight of your dripping hole, all open and inviting, and right on his eye-level. “So damn needy. ‘N so damn beautiful.” He muses, ignoring the increased panting of yours against the top of his head while you’re murmuring his name like a prayer.

His grip tightens as he pushes his head between your thighs, his hot breath against your clit sending sparks of fire through your body. He digs right in, eagerly swiping his tongue between your folds, swirling around your clit, teasing your entrance with slow deliberate slaps of his tongue. You start to squirm and moan in response, the friction like a pain-killer to your aching core.

“Hold still damn it,” he orders, the rumbling of his voice against your folds sending shivers up your spine. You whimper and his intensity increases in response. He groans when your fingers tangle up in his hair and your fingernails scrape at his scalp with frantic motions.

“Fffuck- please, please, please don’t stop, don’t stop-” You plead in weak whimpers as you can feel his beard burn your sensitive skin with every drag of his tongue up your folds, the prickling pain mixing with your pleasure. Meanwhile the muscles in his arms flex to hold you still, keep you pinned up high against the wall and to make sure you don’t accidentally tumble off his shoulders.

His lips close around your clit and he starts to suck terrible whines out of you, your legs fighting his hands under his onslaught. Your pleasure begins to coil tight, your body twitches and your fingers claw at his long hair for the following minutes - but it never snaps. How the fuck does it still not snap?

A whine of protest leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls his head back. You watch his glistening face from half lidded eyes, your chest heaving, some of your sweet juice caught in his beard.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re a tough case, huh?” He chuckles, the tongue swiping his lips to savour your taste again with a low praising groan, “Fuck- Marilyn Monroe’s a dumpster next to you. You taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

A gasp slips your lips when he decides to haul you over his shoulder and with three long strides crosses the room over to the bed when a SMACK has you yelp up. The skin of your asscheek reddens where his hand just swatted you and he chuckles. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

You struggle and squirm in protest but it’s no use, his tight grip around your waist keeps you on his shoulder, facing the other way with your nice bum exposed to him. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” His hand swats your other asscheek this time and he laughs at your needy whine, his tone amused as you can practically hear the smirk playing on is lips, “I haven’t even started.”

His voice sounds raspy, but his tone tells you he’s thrilled, as if the fact that you didn’t shatter from his touch yet, has him enthralled. After all, Soldier Boy was used to things being easy for him, to succeed with half an effort, so real challenges were a rare case for him. And your stubbornly high resistance to falling over the edge seemed to be just that.

Next moment Ben bends down, dropping you gently onto the bed before the mattress dips down under his additional weight when he crawls on top of you. His hands roam your body, groping the soft flesh at your hips, your thighs, roughly massaging your breasts as he pinches your nipples between his fingers.

You start to squirm and tremble from need, your fingernails scraping at his taut muscles that box you in from all sides. “Just hold still for me, yeah? Just lemme do the work…” he husks out, voice low and dangerous with promise that sends a shiver down your spine.

He leans in and breaths hot and low against the shell of your ear while you feel his hand trail down between your shaking legs. “Will get this needy pussy wrecked and all mine…”

You hum into his shoulder when he pushes his index finger past your slick folds, and he takes that as a cue that you need more, so his middle finger quickly follows. This time he manages to draw a soft moan from your lips, your arms wrapping around his neck where you start to kiss and nibble his skin. “You greedy little thing…” he growls, his lips quirked into a smirk.

He starts to pump them, his fingers curling to hit your spongy spot that earns him at least a little louder moan. “Please,” you start to beg, “I need more, Ben… please-” He doesn’t wait and jams a third finger inside your tight cunt before he flicks his thumb over the hood of your swollen clit, the pace of his hand slapping loudly against your cunt increasing. The stretch of his fat fingers filling you up, rubbing your g-spot and scissoring, it all has your legs trembling, the coil in your stomach tightening again to the point where it just – flat lines.

Ben notices the frustration in your eyes and he leans in to press a sloppy kiss onto your damp forehead. His thumb rubs faster circles over your clit, his eyes locked onto your face when his impatience starts to mutter under his breath. "We got us a real stubborn pussy here, hm? You think everyone else is too much of a wuss to keep up with you, huh? Is that it? You need someone who can give as good as they get?"

“Fine” He grunts, pulling his fingers from your dripping hole, his voice gruff with irritated determination, “Looks like this’ a job for my dick. Gonna fuck you over that edge in no time.”

“Please.” You whine, your face buried in his broad shoulder. Your clit swollen, throbbing, tingling, every nerve of your body burning hot and leading down to that one single aching knot as your system was threatening to short-circuit your brain, just to get this damn bundle of nerves to finally erupt.

He quickly gets rid of his boxers, his thick cock free and fully erect. He grapples with your twitching legs, spreading them apart and pulling you back towards his hips where his pink tip pushes against your entrance. You stifle a mewl, your hips bucking instinctively as you need him. Need all of him.

Both of your groans collide between your lips when he snaps his hips and pushes his shaft all the way into your tight channel in one - unceremonious – go. He stills for a moment, his breath hot and heavy when it wafts against your face, “You good?”

His voice was low, a hoarse whisper between the two of you. You nod once again, a weak “yeah” tumbling off your lips. His hands move up to grip onto your hips like handles, his hips slowly starting to move.

You groan at the feeling of his thick pulsing length dragging down your soft walls before being jammed back in all the way up until he hits your cervix and he coaxes a whimper from you. His pace isn’t fast, but his thrusts are deep, each one well measured and deliberate.

“That’s it, you can take it… taking my cock so fuckin’ well...” He mutters against your skin, his tongue swiping across your salty skin.

When he starts to increase his force, your fingers dig into his skin and if it wasn’t for his indestructibleness, he was sure he’d have some nice and long claw marks of you down his back. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and cants your hips, getting an even deeper angle this way. Slouching noise fills the room, the sound of wet skin clashing together in time with your increasing moans and whines and his grunts and groans.

His hand suddenly reaches up to grab your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "See, darlin'? I’ll have you fall apart beneath me soon enough… can't keep your pussy giving me that attitude, that's how you end up in a mess like this.” He mocks you with a teasing chuckle, “Getting the stuffing pounded out of you, all because you couldn't control that naughty mouth of yours and had to make a bet with me."

You just nod, the meaning of his words flying by your clouded mind. Your sole focus’ on your building pleasure, rapidly charging up your throbbing clit. Ben notices it too when your walls start to clamp down on his cock, every hard thrust forcing its way back in to keep the pleasure building.

“Fuck – you’re so tight – You gonna strangle my damn dick at this point.” He hisses, his fingers digging into your flesh again to pull your hips back and meet his thrusts.

“You close, darlin’?” Ben grunts above you.

There it is again. That embarrassing moment of silence. You would’ve sighed right now if it wasn’t for you being buried beneath Ben and his punctured thrusts knocking the air out of you.

Are you close? Your core’s on fire. Certainly. To the point where it hurts even. You feel your legs and feet tingling like white-noise is rushing through your blood, leaving every sensitive nerve in its wake going numb.

But still. You know you wouldn’t tip over. Stuck in that fucking uphill battle. It was just. Not. Enough. It never was nowadays.

The blatant lie sits on the tip of your tongue when Ben’s gruff voice suddenly cuts in.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare fake it.”

How - Your mind comes to a screeching halt.

You choke it back down. Cancel the act that was up next, your well-versed finale to the dull program you were used to.

Shit, he knows.

“N-no…” you confess under your breath. The sound of it weak and to your relief, lost between his heavy grunts.

Or so you think.

“What? You think I’m some spineless wuss who can’t get his girl off?” He punctures each word with a deep thrust as he keeps pounding you into the mattress, “Just tell me whatever the fuck you need me to do, I’m not gonna cry, Jesus Christ.” He continues to reprimand you in a firm tone, his voice holding a hint of disappointment.

You gasp, your breath gets stuck in your throat. No man has ever asked you this before. No one.

Ben suddenly stills, his green eyes locking with yours when his voice takes a serious tone, “You need me to be rougher, pretty girl? That it?”

Your breath hitches, your mind dizzy and clouded by his musky scent, the feeling of him inside you, above you, all around you - and the heat still burning between your legs, still not on that damn edge to your long chased relief.

He leans down next to your head to scrub his beard along your cheeks and up to your ear, “Just say the word,” he growls and you can practically see the smirk spread across his face by the way he sounds.

He knows. Fuck he knows you need more.

And yet he waits for your response, patiently, his body still hanging onto you with a tight grip while his hot breath wafts against the shell of your ear in short bursts like a countdown.

There’s a moment of tense silence, like the calm before a storm. A force that is waiting for you to invite it in, to let it wreck your temple.

“Y-yes, please,” Your voice’s trembling slightly from each puff of warm air that’s huffed from between his lips and smothered across your skin, sending a shiver down your back.

“Jackpot,” he hums, a satisfied expression on his face before his lips begin aimlessly placing kisses all over your face, as if trying to soothe your frustration. “Not gunna hold back anymore… gunna fuck you so long ‘n so hard you won’t be able to walk for the next days. You like that thought, hm?”

“Y—yeah- please – just don’t stop…” you admit with a needy whine, your legs twitching against his shoulders and your head tilted back while your hands start to fist the sheets in anticipation. You’d surely fall over the edge in the next minutes. You had to.

Little did you know, that you’d still be going for the next couple of hours.

You switched positions every time you felt how your clit was going numb from the overstimulation and the pent up energy. Ben’s bulky body kept working relentlessly, his power not faltering once, his pace never slowing down unless he noticed you needed a moment to catch your breath.

He’d be trapping you under him, ass high up in the air, back pressed down with one hand splayed across it, wrists somewhere buried in the pillows and pinned there roughly by his other hand as he slammed is cock against your cervix in a brutal pace.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he orders, his lips against the spot behind your ear and his long, stubby beard scraping your skin as his jaw moves, “I want to see your beautiful face when you rock that high the way you fuckin’ deserve.”

“Oh- Oh fuck- I- I’m close-“ you scream as you feel his hard tip punch your spongy walls like he’s trying to engrave himself into your every inch and his fingers meanwhile rubbing your clit sore. He roughly flips you over onto your back, his lips catching yours just in time when your walls flutter around him and finally, finally that sweet relief crashes down on you. Unexpected and intoxicating as your guttural moans get muffled by his mouth. “God- this- you, God-”

He pulls back, huffing a raspy laughter with a mock-offended tone, “God? I’m fuckin’ better.” He feels your cum coat his cock, your walls wrapping tightly around him. It takes all his will power to hold himself back, to not empty himself inside you. Not yet. Not when he’d promised you to keep going all night. “That’s it,” He plants a praising kiss onto your forehead, his gruff voice rumbling against your skin, “And now let’s hear it once more. Just for good measure.”

And he does. Fingers sink into your skin whenever he’d move you around, large hands holding you down, up, on top of him, against him, muscles working all around you while they would bend or push you into any position, effortlessly.

His superhuman strength overpowers you without even trying, but it feels like he’s only ever using as little as needed to get a reaction out of you. A good reaction. When he roughly flips you over again, pushes you into the mattress, pins your head to the sheets as you squirm and tremble under him, you notice his lips brush up against your ear more frequently, murmuring incoherent, soothing words. Like he’s following the urge to be closer to you. Making silent check-ins. Always making sure you’re not overwhelmed, making sure that those whines and yelps are the cause of pleasurable pain and nothing else. At last, you find yourself on top of him, straddling his hips, bouncing on his hard cock as you ride him like a bull. “What was that about you outlasting me, huh?” He taunts and mocks you in time with rough strokes along your exhausted gummiwalls, “‘bout taking whatever I can throw at you, hm?” He snaps his hips up to meet you halfway when you yelp a short admission, “O-okay, you win!”

His lips curl into a smug smile, “What was that? You gotta work that pretty mouth of yours. Gramps ears ain’t that good.” He pulls you down roughly, making you take him deeper with each thrust of his.

“Y-yar r-ah-iight!” You groan as you fall apart one more final time. Your walls flutter and this time he allows himself to let you pull him over the edge along you. His pulsing cock coating your insides with his warm cum. Your voice’s raspy from the harsh breaths you’ve sucked down your open mouth for the past hours.

You collapse to his chest, shaking from the waves of pleasure that rippled through your every fibre and the feeling of his warm seeds filling you up and dripping down his shaft and onto his skin. His arms wrap around your back to hold you close while he murmurs naughty words against the crown of your head.

While Ben had gotten himself a joint to smoke, you padded into the bathroom, getting yourself cleaned. “You doin’ good, darlin’?” He calls after you, loosley holding the joint between his lips as he props himself up against the bed’s headboard.

You return after a while, your body wrapped up in a towel as you make your way back to the bed and snuggle up to him. He drapes his arm lazily around your shoulder, pulling you closer so that your head rests on his firm chest.

“You really had to work for it… huh?” You break the silence with a low mutter, feeling some embarrassment creep up on you.

“You kiddin’?” His eyes snap down at you and he takes a drag of his joint before he continues, “Darlin’, you’ve got the drive of a bunny in heat. Taking my cock so fuckin’ well. Most tap out after the second round but you -“ he lets out a low whistle close to a hiss, “- you just keep goin’ all night – Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“Oh shush…” You giggle sheepishly.

“Just speaking the damn truth. You be proud of that, ya hear me?” He says in a firm voice, while he reaches up to stroke a damp hair out of your face.

You smile, feeling your chest tingle and your cheek warm up, “This was… this was unbelievable. You were amazing.”

He laughs and flashes a cocky grin down at you, “Told ya my dick would beat your pussy over that edge.“

You cringe inwardly at his choice of words, “That’s not what I meant. I’m not talking about your… your dick or your stamina. I’m talking about you.” You pause, his eyebrows knot together and you quickly add, "Like, non-physically."

He stares at you, nonplussed - then irritated. “Fuck me. You - you snort some of my shit, prissy little thing?”

“No, Ben-,” a soft, frustrated chuckle escapes your lips that makes his eyebrows twitch together again, “You - you are amazing.”

You repeat but this time tilt your head back to hold his gaze, like you’re pointing at the soul hiding behind those green orbs that stare back at you, while your fingers draw invisible circles on his arms.

Silence.

Ben’s sharp eyes are searching your face for clues, like he’s mentally going through every drug that could have led you to say something as ridiculous as that.

You smile in return. A genuine, honest smile. Aimed at him. And his mind short circuits for a moment.

A faint flash of something like a blush crosses his cheeks, but it is covered up the same moment with his usual gruff expression and an irritated scoff. “‘Course I’m fuckin’ amazin’. Besides that, I just wanted to win the bet.” His teeth flash at you between a cocky smirk. “And I proofed you damn wrong.”

Ah, there it is again, good ol’ Soldier Boy.

Walls and barb wire and mine field; all up and ready to defend that one and only fragile part of his indestructible body. Keeping it strapped down by some rush of power trip and waterboarded in his twisted idea of love.

You chuckle, knowingly. That damn soft smile on your lips again.

He stares down at you with an unreadable expression, like he’s fighting the urge to slap some sense into you for throwing such an inappropriate gesture his way. To him, it was infuriating, really. But thanks to that stupid curve dancing across your face, he now feels himself caught up in a whole new range of emotions.

You could have gotten up now and left. Like you were sure he expected you to. Probably one of the reasons he kept silent, his brows pulled low like a defensive shield against your gaze, his arm draped around your shoulders so awkwardly… ‘cuz he knew he wasn’t good at this. Aftercare. He’s practically just waiting for you to snap at him, and pull away without another good word. His eyes narrow further, almost provoking it now as he felt himself slowly crumble under your warm presence.

But none of these thoughts crossed your mind. Instead your fingers gently trace the frame of his hardened face that could’ve fooled anyone but you.

That speck of a blush had been more than enough reason to settle down further into his chest with a soft hum, “Mhm, you did win... Win-win.”

Mindless chattering carries the cozy atmosphere of Jerry’s Coffehouse, each table occupied by couples sharing desserts and passionate kisses. All except the one set under your arms, your fingers loosely holding onto the card before you drop it to the table in resignation.

The sweet scent of sugary sins whirls around your nose, intrusive, mocking you. Now that you are here, sitting in the middle of a room full of unfiltered, tooth-aching love all around you, it seems like your appetite has been spoiled for good.

Truth be told, you can’t entirely blame the lovestruck couples boxing you in like in a bully circle. The problem is much worse. You feel lonely. Not the usual lonely, but terribly lonely because you had something for a moment, something real special, and now it was gone again.

It feels like so many unspoken feelings still hang in the air. At least for you there are. You are pretty sure that Ben was more than happy about Butcher’s interruption just when you thought you’d seen a glimpse of something more beneath this scraggy hard shell of “Soldier Boy”.

You exhale heavily. Your eyes glued down to your empty hands.

Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Your job to watch Soldier Boy was done. He’d moved on. It was over. After all, last night was just for some fun, right? Something to finally get you off, to feel so much more than-

You mentally kick yourself. Get your shit together and get back to your old life.

You fish out your phone from your pocket and open the fanfic from yesterday. With a heavy sigh you scroll down the blurry words, memories of your past night flashing across your inner eye – when a sudden noise almost has you drop your phone.

The coffee table rattles under your elbows as the opposite chair clatters into it under the force of a kick and the following screeching sound has some heads whirl around to watch the scene with raised eyebrows.

Whipped cream sploshes for a second as the large glass CLANGS down in front of you and hits the wooden surface with the force of a drunken man handling a beer bottle. You instinctively dodge back in your seat. Your eyes watch the green contents of it sway under the thick layer of chocolate sprinkled cream topping before your befuddled look darts up to meet him.

Ben slumps down across of you. His casual clothes almost could’ve fooled one to believe he’s a regular guy, if it wasn’t for his bulky frame hanging off the seat in all directions.

He looks a tad annoyed, but that was something you’d long become accustomed to. There was always something that pissed Ben off when you were around. Or someone for that matter. But mostly, it was just his resting face and you knew better than to take it personally.

“Couples get one pussy milk for two.” He states gruffly, ignoring all the faces turned his way now.

“…Ben? What the hell are you doing here?” You sputter, thrown off by the sudden whiff of musky smoke mixed with an unusual, intense, fresh and masculine smell… was that perfume that just hit your nose?

His stern expression melts into a flirtatious smile. This is new. “Hey sweetheart. Miss me yet?”

“How did you know I was here? - Wait- did you just say, for couples?”

“That’s what the sailor-hat-cum-gobbler back there said.” He boots back the chair next to you to kick up his legs while he continues with an annoyed grunt, but lacked any bite, “This green spew better be worth my damn money.”

You blink at him rapidly, and quite frankly, dumbfounded. Is that emotionally constipated man even aware of what he just said or-

“That’s what we are, innit?” He cuts you short, his voice as gravelly and confident as always.

But the way his green pupils glance up at you from the corner of his eyes, a thick strand of hair falling into his face when his head tilted away slightly, like a puppy afraid to get kicked… His emotions were subtle, a rare and fleeting moment, and anybody else might have dismissed it. But it told you so much more than he was willing to admit.

When your eyes flicker down to his hand twitching from his death grip on the arm rest, your chest tightens.

Oh my God. Ben was dead fucking serious.

“Don’t people usually first date?” You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood.

And to buy yourself some time as you try to grapple with a situation you had never expected to find yourself in.

In fact, you have pictured yourself in it ever since you stepped into that shabby damn motel room where he had locked eyes with you for the very first time.

His stern expression makes way for a raucous laughter, his voice booming across the small coffee in pride. “I think we’re past that point, love, after I’ve fucked you raw. For five fucking hours. That’s longer than any damn date I’ve ever had.”

“Jesus Christ - Ben - tune it down! Please.” You plead in a hushed voice, face flushed as you can sense all the curious eyes watching you both closely, like you’re part of a live performance. And a scandalous one on top.

“I don’t hear any complaints. Just stating the facts here, sweetheart.” He chuckles cockily and winks at you, clearly his full ego back in place again, “So it’s settled, then?”

“Uh- I - uh-,” you stumble over your words, your hands fidgeting and your head still reeling from the fact that he had just announced your new relationship status as if he’d made a decent marketing deal with Vought.

His eyebrows push together, that familiar look of impatience taking over his face as he tries to understand why you’re still hesitating. You swallow thickly, the lump in your throat blocking any chance to voice your inner struggles.

You visibly shrink under his intense gaze and your eyes sink to the table, unsure of what to do. You sense him move across of you and you half-expect him to either snark at you now or just simply get up and leave. Damnit, now you fucked up.

But instead he slides the XXL milkshake across the table until it bumps into your tightly clasped hands and your eyes dart up to meet his again. He searches your face, emerald eyes sharp, analysing, but motivated by genuine concern.

His calloused fingers slide off the glass to brush them against yours, gentle, almost hesitant. As if those very same fingers hadn’t groped and gripped your flesh all night like he wanted to leave his marks on every inch of your body.

His large hand moves to cover both of yours, muffling the fidgeting of your fingers with a calm and heavy presence, his actions a big contrast to his rumbling voice. “Hey, you still with me?” He husks out your name, his green eyes boring into yours, gauging your reaction.

Your breath hitches, he squeezes your hands, the tension eases. Ben’s grounding you.

“Yes.” You finally whisper with an affectionate smile, and the same moment his fingers twitch around your hands. “It’s settled.”

“Good.” He mutters to himself and his expression seems almost… relieved.

It’s this moment you realise something: Ben’s not been avoiding his usual flirty and cocky smiles because he didn’t like you or thought you weren’t worth a fling. But because you were more than a possible fling to him. Because this, this was dead serious to him. And he was probably terrified of screwing it up.

After all, people didn’t love Benjamin for showing emotions, for vulnerability, for weakness, for being human. They loved Soldier Boy for being a fucking hero. The strongest. Indestructible. And not caressing fragile hands like they were an extention of the most precious soul in the whole damn universe to him.

His hands squeeze yours once more, as if physically reassuring you, before he pulls away and leans back again, now a content smile embellishing his firm face.

A genuine smile. No show. No flirty Soldier Boy.

From one ear to the other, all Benjamin.

As if he’d seen himself in the mirror, he suddenly shifts in his seat, like he’s physically trying to shake off any remaining trace of that disgusting vulnerability. “Right, so…” He clears his throat, his eyes flickering around the packed coffee shop like he’s looking for some moron to latch onto.

You chuckle softly at the sight, knowing all too well that it’ll probably take a hell of a lot of time and love to get him to smile more like this without having him recoil from his own feelings every time.

Sure enough, Ben has found the perfect victim. “Think we gotta step up our couple-game. Popeye’s still ain’t buyin’ it.” He smirks, his eyes lazily rolling over to briefly shoot a death glare at the sailor-hat wearing employee who’s now cowering behind the counter.

He then reaches over the table again, his index finger flicking against one of the two red-white striped straws bobbing in the sweet drink, before he goes on to strangle his own between his calloused finger pads.

“The dick bender’s been watching you all this time.” He growls, and you can feel just a hint of protectiveness from the way his jaw muscle twitches beneath his beard and his nose wrinkles above the straw that’s now been jammed between his bared teeth.

“Everyone’s watching us, Ben.” You chuckle, before your eyes trail down to the free straw with an amused smile.

Ben nudges your inner thigh with his foot under the table to get your attention. “C’mon, you make me look like some cocksucker here.” He teases and jerks his chin at you and the untouched straw still dangling off your side of the milkshake, “You said you wanted a fucking great Valentine’s day, right? So do me a favour, sweetheart, and start sucking.”

You chuckle and bring the straw up to your mouth to wrap your lips around it. You take the first slurp and your cheeks melt into a wide, knowing smile.

Matcha milkshake with chocolate chips and extra vanilla syrup. That much for ‘a code word’.

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

A/N: I hope this turned out okay?? 😭

Also. Maybe I was breaking a taboo here or maybe it’s not as common as I thought, but I felt like it's a topic which I have rarely ever see in fanfics. And I know how some just don’t fall over the edge that easily? Like sometimes it genuinely feels frustrating to chase that relief to no end with no success? Yeah, this story is for you all. I hear you. 🧡

Starting a Soldier Boy tag list for anyone who’s interested! ♡ ❀ꗥ Let me know in the comments or fill out this form!

[gingerjolover]

no one can convince me Julien doesn’t love being praised both in innocent and non innocent situations. like she’s over their being protective boyfriend but really she melts at the slightest compliment, like fuzzy eyed…

ohhhhhh anon cutie, let's discuss shall we:

rpf and rpf smut under da cut minors gtfo <3

you're so right, ok look boyfriend!jules LOVES to give you praise but almost loves receiving it more because the way you praise her so sweet and soft she literally, literally melts on the floor

im thinking of like dirty shirleys!julien like before whatever his face (cant remember what i named the rando and honestly can't be arsed to check) starts flirting with you, julien is posted up, back against the bar watching the crowd, and your surroundings, hand on your thigh as she keeps her eyes behind you, watching the bar in a protective manner. every few minutes she kisses your head or rubs your back while you talk to your friends. And Julien is just minding her business, but you lean on your palm and look her up and down, tug her hand to grab her attention, and just pull her down, telling her how good she looks, truly innocently like you just think her outfit is nice and her tattoos look great under her shirt and she gets all blushy and wide-eyed

shes 100% the type to be like, "babe stoooop," while you kiss her cheek and her skin is all hot and pink and she's trying to be tough and be cool about it (oooaaahhhhhHHHHH) but she lit cant help it because you make her squirm because there's something almost uncomfy about you praising her like she gets overwhelmed by praise in a good way (does this make sense?)

okay looooook, dom!julien doesnt break for anything EXCEPT praise. she doesn't care if you're crying or begging or squirming around (obvi w consent if you weren't enjoying yourself or uncomfy you can forget this she puts your comfort and safety above everything) but you praise her through mumbled tones, your voice whiny and breathy and she's FOLDINGGGGG

i imagine it's a situation where she's just going to town with the strap i mean just rocking your shit, she's leaning over you, one hand on your hip, the other on the bed next to your head and she has your knee bent and your eyes haven't been opened once and she's going too hard at such a brutal pace to even care that she can't see your eyes and she doesn't even notice through your moans that you've opened them and are staring at her. through just the neediest whine you're like "fuck you're so pretty like this jay," and suddenly her rhythm is out of whack and her hips are faltering and her chest and neck and cheeks grow pink and shes leaning down on top of you, holding your cheeks as she licks into your mouth, her hips moving faster.

we can talk about subby!julien but you could lit be like, "i like your shirt" and she'd be wide-eyed and blushing and begging to eat you out because you literally just made her entire night with a simple sentence

long story short, jules LOVES praise

[illfoandillfie]

Quality Vs Quantity

Rich Fuckboy Ben Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery:  Spending a day in Ben's hotel room has some unforeseen consequences

Warnings: Basically just fluff with some references to sex - nothing happens on page, Specifically references to oral sex (m receiving) and P in V sex, Rich kid dickishness, hints at dom!reader/sub!Ben but nothing major, discussions of urinary tract infections.

Words: 1,166

A/N: The idea for this one came about because I was rewatching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (for those that are unfamiliar it's a tv comedy series that features musical numbers, its great, highly recommend) and in on episode the main character contracts a UTI and the guy she's been sleeping with sings a song about how he's proud to have been soon good at sex that she needs medication. It's funny and stupid but it did make me think of my favourite rich prick and I had to write something lmao.

(How could I not use this image lmao)

Taglist: @labessieisallama@deakyclicks@jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor@i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely@ilovequeenmorethanyou@johndeaconshands@borhapbois@stardust-galaxies@cherries-n-rocknroll@rogersslave @scorpiogemini

When you’d gone out with Ben you’d figured you’d have a good night letting him be all dominant and then you’d be sent home as soon as he was done, with a slap on the arse and probably some comment about being a whore. You hadn’t expected to still be there the next morning let alone for Ben to get so subby so quickly. You definitely hadn’t anticipated that the night with him would turn into nearly a full day in his bed. But you hadn’t been able to pull yourself away and he seemed reluctant to let you leave. So instead, you’d stayed.  

It was only once you were home (and Bianca had stopped grilling you about your new mystery man, since she had no idea you’d seen Ben again), that you were able to actually think about what had happened. There’d been a surprising amount of kissing when you really thought about it. None of it like how it was when he kissed you in the limo – territorial, cornering you so he could claim you or mark you. It was nicer than that. Sweet and soft and a lot of it had happened when he wasn’t inside you which was maybe the most surprising part. Though, really, the whole thing was definitely unexpected. 

There’d been breaks for room service meals and at one point you’d dozed off whilst laying against his chest, a movie playing on the TV and his fingers playing with your hair. But most of the time had been spent fucking. A, frankly, ridiculous amount of fucking. In all sorts of positions and places throughout the suite, some of it rough, some soft and sensual, all of it very satisfying. Honestly, you couldn’t help but be a little impressed by Ben – his prowess and stamina. But unfortunately, there was unforeseen consequences too, even a couple of days post marathon fuck session.  

You hadn’t planned on telling Ben you probably had a UTI. You’d felt the burning sensation and immediately called your gyno to organise an appointment and on your way home you’d made sure to pick up some cranberry pills and juice to hold you over until then. Ben hadn’t even factored into your thoughts at all except to briefly curse him. And then, out of the blue he’d called.   “You free tonight?”  “Y’know, typically conversations start with some kind of greeting.”  “Hi, Y/N. So are you?”  “That depends. What were you planning?”  “Well something like the other day preferably. There’s more I want to do to you.”  You couldn’t imagine what else he could possibly be thinking of but kept that to yourself in order to tease him a bit, “You must really love being my sub if you’re asking me out again already. Don’t think many girls get invited into your bed a second time and little old nobody me gets a third.”  “I just figured since I got you off so much, the least you could do is suck my cock again.”  You laughed, “Well if a blowjob is all you want then maybe I’ll consider it, but I’m not really up to uhh penetration.”  “Why not? My cock too big for you to handle and now you need a week to recover?”  “No, I just think I have a urinary tract infection so sex is off the table until I can get onto some antibiotics.”  “Soooo,” he stretched the word out thoughtfully, “I wasn’t too far off. You’re pussy just couldn’t handle all the incredible sex.”  You sighed, somewhere between exasperated and amused, “It’s not the quality of the sex and it’s not a comment on your size. It’s just that there was like a lot of sex happening and that led to a very natural transferal of bacteria.”  “No don’t ruin this for me. It’s my huge dick and how good a shag I am, you need medication to cope. It’s actually a complement, so thank you.”  You snorted and heard Ben laugh too.  “But I s’pose that’s a good enough excuse, I’ll let you pay me back some other time. I could probably use a quiet night in anyway.”  “A quiet night? What’s that, only going to one club before you’re newest conquest sees the hotel?”  “Usually yeah,” he chuckled, “but actually I was thinking of staying home and watching TV. Maybe some video games, don’t know yet.”  “Really? You don’t have a model you can call as a plan B?”  “Oh, believe me I have them. I guess I just don’t really feel like it tonight.” There was a short pause and then Ben said, “Believe me, no one is as surprised as I am.”  You had to laugh, but also said, “Well, sounds like it’ll be fun.”  “You could still join me.”  “It’s a tempting offer but I probably shouldn’t. A night on your own will do you some good anyway.”   “Sure it’s not cause I’m so irresistible? Worried you’ll catch a glimpse of my halfie and beg to suck on it?”  “More that I don’t trust you not to talk me into it and I’m still trying to train you to behave.”  Ben gave a soft little whimper that he tried to cover with a cough and you smiled, pleased you could still affect him like that.  

But just when you thought he was being a little predictable, Ben decided to throw you for a loop.   “You are okay though right?  “Yeah,” you said, trying not to sound like you were too taken aback, “I’m fine. UTI’s can become serious if ignored but I’m not ignoring it and they’re pretty easy to treat. I’ll just be out of action or a week or two, no biggie. Unfortunately I had agreed to go with Bianca to a cycling class so I’ll probably have to cancel that. She’ll understand though.”  “Well then let me pay for that. I mean, I assume there’s a cancellation fee.”  “There is but you don’t have to do that.”  “Please, Y/N, if there’s one thing I have, it’s money. It’ll be like losing some loose change in the couch. And...I want to help. I did contribute to your situation after all – y'know, big dick, hot lay, we’ve covered that already. I’d be a prick not to help somehow. Is there anything else I can do? Pain relief or, I don’t know, do you need a lift to the appointment? I could send my car for you.”  You were thrown entirely off balance by how genuine and sweet and un-dickish Ben sounded, “Um no I think I’m all good. It’s really kind of you to offer though.”  “Okay, if you’re sure. But if you need something just let me know. And message me with how much the cancellation costs. And...feel better soon.”  “I will, thanks Ben. Umm, talk soon?”  “Yeah, definitely.”  You were still a little in shock when you hung up, and not at all sure how to break it to Bianca that you might have a crush on the Ben Hardy.

[theetherealraphael]

actually

on the topic of ni no kuni: wrath of the white witch

esther. i love her character! shes got a really good plot line, i love her banter with swaine, and overall shes just really cool!

...except when it comes to fights.

now, dont get me wrong, shes great if you want quick healing! but... she dies. a lot. and honestly, a lot of the time? i can't be arsed to revive her. it usually ends up a waste of phoenix feathers anyway, because she just dies again two minutes later

hell, sometimes she dies on familiar fights! and its not like shes underlevelled, for me, swaine is a lower level, and yet he dies less!

again, i love esther, shes a great character, i just cant wait till marcassin joins my party permanently.

[geee-three]

okay so re: my last posts tags they #forgot to confiscate my school tablet overnight so someone (me) can get up to much mischief

however i can only have one tab open at a time and i Need to impulsivly check tumblr every three minutes and it takes three minutes to navigate b/tw pages so. um. im not getting anything done

i shooouuuuldlllld do my history work but like,iforgot to bring it home and shes one of three (3) teachers who still do shit on paper so shrug, i cant. <- actually not intentional btw. im just disorganised

and also my off brand apple pencil (tm) is dead.so. i could draw traditionally but,,, sniffles. warp tool my beautiful wife who died at sea.

ALSO ALSO i cant draw on paper bc im in my rooomm due to the supposed to be sleeping,,, which means three things

there is no light bc it broke like a month ago and i cant be arsed to change it

all my trad art supplies are Not Here except like. alcohol markers. which are famously hard to use if the lighting is less than perfect

its cold as fuck bc theres no heating up here

[cat-denied]

1, 9, & 11 for the salty asks?

thanks for asking! gonna go ahead and answer these for fire emblem since thats the fandom im most active in as a fandom

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

oh man, a lot. a lot of heterosexual ones, i feel like? alm/celica. merric/elice feels so abrupt and meaningless in the way that basically any of the non-main-protagonist NES game relationships do, even when they try to retcon it in in the remakes, because it just...forget chemistry, they don't have any interactions! like what!!

felix/sylvain. like, i dunno, i just don't really feel any emotions looking at these two. they are fine? they're fine. i don't...that's it. lmao

also, honestly to an extent i don't really get tharja/robin in awakening. like, i love both characters on their own, but they don't really gel for me in the same way they seem to for a whole lotta other people lol.

ALSO! not fire emblem and i am not in a "fandom" as such for full metal alchemist but shipping roy mustang and riza hawkeye Does Not Gel For Me. i get why people do it but like...i do not understand it.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

i bear grudges especially towards Arvis FE4 (because the narrative treats him as noble and well-intentioned, and basically just tells us that he means good without doing literally anything to back it up) and Gray Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (because i am so fucking sick to death of "guy bothers uninterested woman until she relents into having a relationship with him" AND they always end up in a fucking relationship in their end cards even if you didn't unlock any of their supports).

also shoutouts to olwen FE5, who rules hard and who i love don't get me wrong, but whose supporting cast (fred and reinhardt) are like...way less cool than her. i especially do not vibe with reinhardt, considering he chooses not to defect despite presumably knowing about the child hunts (!), meaning the intended arc of "tragically you cant recruit this cool dude" falls flat because...is he really that cool if he can't be arsed to stop perpetuating tangible horrific evils in fiction? then again, he is working with ishtar, who is described as saving as many kids as possible--but also that only gets mentioned in her other game, which means it's not brought up directly with reinhardt--look the point is i'm not interested in him he's a boring man and i don't know why he has sixteen different alts in Heroes when olwen has one. olwen is the cooler fucking sibling get a grip lmao

i also hate virion (any man who is introduced chasing after a vocally uninterested woman is not worth my while, doubly so if he does not have any sort of tangible character arc), berkut (GOD. AWFUL man. somehow manages to fridge his own wife??? you should be able to recruit rinea in echoes i am forever peeved about this. he's an excellent villain all the way up until you can't recruit rinea about it), and perne (because the narrative apparently believes that kidnapping and torturing a young girl into doing your bidding via frightening her with insects is, like, not a big deal you guys don't sweat it).

11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

i love Kris from new mystery of the emblem, i think she rules, she's a goofus. big fan. also all the new mystery gang tbh. i would say i don't understand why people hate her so much, except i do, and it's the same old same old "everything was better in the old days, when we didn't have support conversations or characters with more than 1 line of dialogue" that you get in every fandom, but i've certainly noticed in fire emblem.

i love edelgard, but i wouldn't say the fandom doesn't: i would say some of the fandom doesn't, but it's a split it would seem. i fucking adore monica but so does everybody else with taste. i really like wendy (inasmuch as anyone in the binding blade has a character), admittedly half due to her class as armored knight and half out of spite at how her wiki page says she's non-viable, but there's a solid half in there to appreciate her on her own merits also. this is again a mixed opinion and not a totally unpopular one, but i love ingrid, i think her story arc is fascinating. i LOVE jill i think her story arc is super compelling, she's one of my favorites. look, i don't know, who's unpopular? if you get me a list of "unpopular" fire emblem characters i will probably pick out every woman on there and be like "aw cmon she's cool/underutilized/worthy of appreciation". except camilla.

thanks so much for asking! this was very fun.

[bogos--binted]

okay so you know earlier i was shakespeare posting and i talked about how its my mums fault because she got me the shakespeare books and i read the much ado about nothing one and it was awful ? well heres some stuff i said about it 👍

“the cast list is so stupid its meant to be in order of appearance but its actually not”

“thatswrong actually its something like "i wonder that you will still be talking signor benedick- nobody marks you" "oh, my sweet lady disdain! are you yet living?" ”

“they cut half of that fucking scene” (benedick and beatrice’s conversation in act 2 scene 1)

“wheres th e "i know you of old" thats actually very important to their characters and their history”

“ ???? what did he mutter????”

“ they call this a masked ball but in the illustrations nobody is wearing masks❌”

“THEY FUCKING CUT "KILL CLAUDIO" ”

“THAT'S MY FAVOURITE LINE IJ YHE WHOLE PLAY”

“👎👎”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED  .”

“they didnt even put "thou art sad ..... get thee a wife !" in smh”

“THY DIDNT EVEN GET WHAT WAS MEANT TO BE AN ACTUAL QUOTE FROM THE PLAY RIGHT ????”

“THEY PUT "I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is it not strange?" WHEN ITS ACTUALLY "I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?" ”

“benedick is so fucking stupid though he used 'thou' for pretty much every conversation he had with beatrice and tge exceptions where he uses 'you' are obviously before act 4 scene 1 and the lines when he says he loves beatrice and when he kisses Beatrice ??”

“(there are probably much more exceptions but i cant be arsed to find them)”

[earlyspringtranscendence]

lying prostrate and pondering how vespa and peter should become friends because petey is a wimp who doesnt wanna do his own shots and also they bond over knives

[starfoxrry]

can't believe fucking 7 rings and bad guy got a grammy nomination when my sons were snubbed

idk why yall still hold a grammy nom that highly in this post take-me-home-got-snubbed era but i havent bothered abt the grammys in a long while

[magalidragon]

killing time | a Jonerys drabble

This is for the Anon who suggested we revisit the racing beans from that one fic I wrote where they were racecar drivers and it ended up far angstier than intended 🤣 Also uses prompt from @youwerenevermine “you’re an idiot”/“yes but I’m your idiot.” Ooooh and it is smutty 🤭

"I can't believe you think this is going to work."

"It will work. Because I'm a genius."

That was a little much, Dany thought, hoisting herself onto the tool bench in the garage, swinging her feet back and forth, watching the handsome specimen of her husband bent in half in the engine of the Direwolf, his fine, tight ass wiggling in his grease-stained coveralls, which should have made him look like he was wearing a potato sack, but were pulling in all the right places. He'd tied the arms around his hips, his white t-shirt underneath stained with grease, sweat, motor oil, and if she was not mistaken-- a large swipe of chocolate from the cake their daughter had been eating before he put her to bed for her naptime.

He moved some more, shifting on his feet and she bit her lower lip, checking the clock hanging askew on the wall. They had a meeting in about two hours, and were killing time just lounging around the garage. It made her think of when they were teenagers, spending all their time in and around the garage, making messes and letting someone else clean it up.

Now they cleaned things up themselves. He also cleaned up nicely himself. He wiggled again and she wondered if he was doing this on purpose. She shifted uncomfortably on the bench, sitting on her hands instead of doing anything that might get her in trouble. He was <i>working</i>, as he liked to stress. He didn’t want distractions when he was working.

Although working wasn’t an apt enough word for what he was doing. Fucking up a perfectly good vehicle. That’s what he was doing.

Now he was adding some sort of extra filter which he claimed would give the Direwolf extra air flow, boosting its acceleration. It made no sense to her. Plus, he'd screwed with the fins on the back, which was <i>not</i> his job, that was Gendry's as their aerodynamics expert, but Jon knew better, always, he said.

Except for her.

She wrinkled her nose, when he pulled out from the engine and then spun around, dropping down onto the other side to scoot underneath the vehicle. Exasperated, she groaned. "What are you doing now?"

"Checking the fuel pump, I think it’s jacked."

"You're making shit up." He hummed underneath and kicked his feet around. After a few minutes of clanking around, she couldn't stand it any longer and climbed down, peering into the engine, disgusted at the wires he had crisscrossing everywhere. It made no sense. It was like the inside of his head. She scowled at him, when he emerged, swatting her ass lightly with the dirty rag in his hands. She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Ah, but I'm your idiot."

Be that as it may, he was screwing up a perfectly good working engine because he couldn't just leave things alone. "That's not getting you anywhere, give me that." She swiped the wrench from him and crawled up onto the Direwolf's fender, small and spry enough to really get into the engine cavity. She made sure to wiggle her butt, in her tight jeans, just enough to tease him, while also kicking up her foot.

The mess he’d created was atrocious. She could not believe this chaos of an engine. Disgusted, she made a derisive snort. “I take it back, you aren’t an idiot.”

“Aye?”

“Aye.” She climbed out and threw one of the fuel injectors she had just removed at him, as he scowled. She tilted her face up to his, smirking. “You’re a moron.”

“Is that not the same?”

“Moron is worse to me. Idiot implies you have some sense of awareness of what you did, you just did it stupidly.”

He wagged the fuel injector at her. “This is perfectly fine!”

“It’s corroded!”

The fuel injector flew over his shoulder, after he tossed it and he grabbed her hips, hoisting her up onto the car’s side, tilting her back over the fiberglass to the roof, growling. “You’re impossible.”

She snapped her teeth on his bottom lip, groaning. “You are.”

“No you.”

“You!”

The next thing she knew they were over each other, his mouth hot on her sweaty neck, pulse racing against his tongue. She moaned for more, needy, grinding her hips up into his and scratched her nails down his shoulders, pushing them under his t-shirt sleeves to get to his bare skin.

“Jon,” she groaned, his palms under her arse to lift her higher against the car, while she furiously pulled at his coveralls. He kissed her, silencing her protests, tongue spearing into her mouth and she nipped at him, her fingers easing into his briefs to free him and thumb at his cock, fondling the thick, velvet length, hardening to steel in her hands.

He pulled away, whining impatiently. “What time is it?” he panted, flicking the tab at her jeans, leaning sideways to keep her upright against the envie with his body while he worked the denim and her lace bikinis over her hip.

Doesn’t matter, she thought, busying herself with kissing him again. She loved him, loved him so much, it was hard to wrap her mind around how they had been willing to go their separate ways for so long before coming together again.

She gasped when he pulled away and latched his mouth over her nipple through her tank’s thin cotton, the competing sensations blinding her. She lifted higher and he thrust into her hand. She was drenched, cunt pulsing, and she lined him up, sliding her cunt along his cock, the head bumping her clit. She moaned softly and knocked her head against the car hood behind her.

He pushed into her easily, filling and stretching, smothering her with his body and mouth. She canted her hips, encouraging him to move, and clutched his arms. He found her hand with his and squeezed, joining them at her thigh, which was hiked up over his hip, the coveralls slapping against their thighs, zipper clanking and her jeans awkwardly bunched near her knees, the stretch denim stretching to its limits.

They had done this more times than she could count, fucking in garages and in and on cars and gods she loved it. She moaned his name and tore her nails at his arm while squeezing his hand. He grunted into her shoulder, name a breath on his lips and then she was coming, encouraging him with her until they were shattering, her cry strangled and her name a shout on his lips.

“Jon,” she sighed, feet falling to the floor, loose and limber. She hummed into his neck, kissing his pulse.

He tilted his face down and kissed her, slowly, reverently. She smiled lazily. It was so nice and comfortable afterward. She met his gaze, loving and sleepy, gray eyes blown out to black. “You’re still an idiot,” she murmured.

Jon laughed and arched his brow, about to reply when they froze, hearing a door banging from somewhere near. “Uh…”

“Jon! Dany! Where are you? We have that sponsorship meeting today and I don’t want to go can I stay with Laena?” It was Arya, bellowing through the house.

They cursed, hurriedly righting themselves as best as they could. Dany winced, squeezing her legs together uncomfortably. “Arya? What are you doing here?”

“We have that thing!” She pushed open the door and stepped in, scowling immediately. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” they said at the same time.

Arya made a face. “Ew you both are gross. Were you fucking?” She didn’t wait and gagged. “Nevermind don’t tell me…” she trailed off distracted at the engine. She bowled, leaping for it. “Jon! What did you do!?”

At the same time, from the monitor on the table beside her, Laena began babbling, awake from her nap. Dany sighed, patting Jon’s cheek. “My idiot,” she murmured and kissed him, before skirting away to leave him to argue with Arya over what he’d done to the car.

All she knew was when it was ready to drive, it would be ready and she’d trust whatever he did. Even if it made zero sense. She winked at him when he caught her gaze across the garage and he made a face.

She laughed, skipping off to get their daughter and clean up. They had a race to go prep for.

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Sihtric x Dane Reader

Prompt: Y/N has been traveling with Uhtred and the Cookham trio for almost a year now. She has proven her worth multiple times, both on the battle field and as a friend. She loves the men like they are her own family, all except a certain dark haired Dane, who she cant seem to loose feelings for.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ Only (fuckin, heavy kissing, mentions of Sihtric having a hair pulling kink because he OBVIOUSLY DOES) , Swearing, Sihtric being the goofball he is, maybe season 3 spoilers?

Word Count: 2.5K (SHE LONG)

You have known Uhtred since you were young, having grown up in the same village, he was your mentor, and taught you everything he could before he left for Wessex, so when you heard he was now a lord, and looking to build an army to take back Bebbanburg, it only seemed fitting that you joined.

You had rode into the camp and demanded to speak with ‘Lord Uhtred of Cookham’ and seeing you were still in your Dane clothing, you didn’t recieve the warmest welcome, having been met with swords as you approached the gate by a Monk, an Irishman, and a man who appeared Dane. It sounded like the start of a bad joke.

The Dane especially caught your eye. He was handsome, and seemed to be around your age, he was tall, and as his eyes met yours you noticed they were different colors. You only looked away when you heard Uhtred come out of his tent.

“Can I help you?” Uhtred asked, motioning for his men to stand down as he eyed you closely, not quite knowing why he recognized you.

“Yes” You said, dismounting your horse and approaching the man, pulling out your sword to point at him “Yield to me”

Uhtred’s face lit up in a smile, before he quickly closed the space between you, engulfing you in a hug.

“Y/N! It’s been so long! I hardly recognized you you’ve grown so much! What are you doing in Cookham?” He asked, causing the three men who had welcomed you to relax a bit. 

“I heard you are trying to retake Bebbanburg, and seeing I am the best warrior you’ve ever met, I figured I’d give you a favor” You said smugly, causing Uhtred to roll his eyes before ruffling your hair.

“We’d love to have you” Uhtred said slinging an arm around your shoulder, before introducing you to the rest of his men.

----

A year later and it was as if you had know them for your entire life. They were skeptical at first, not fully trusting a Dane. But after a few drinks, a couple jokes, and proof that you were a worthy fighter, they accepted you openly.

You were currently in Mercia to help Lady Aethelflaed. You had spent the last week fighting off soldiers, but the fighting was slowing down, allowing you some downtime. You sat by the forest, watching Osferth and Sihtric spar, Osferth wanting to be better prepaired for the next battle. You were up next to practice, needing to freshen up on your sword skills, but your mind was somewhere else.

While you were friends with all of the members of Uhtreds group, you and Sihtric had a closer connection. You would spend more time with each other that with the others, there was the occasional flirty joke, and some nights you could spend hours talking. You had fallen hard for the dark haired Dane, and as much as you would love to peruse it, the fear of rejection from both him and the group was enough to suppress it.

“Enjoying the view?” Aethelflaed asked from beside you, causing you to jump out of your skin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You said, regaining your composure while attempting to look unbothered as Aethelflaed came to sit by you.

“So you haven't been sitting here giving bedroom eyes to Sihtric all day?” She asked teasingly, making you blush a bit.

“I am not giving him bedroom eyes, I am simply observing” You said calmly, making Aethelflaed laugh.

“Whatever you say” She laughed, deciding to watch with you.

A few minutes later and both Osferth and Sihtric were breathing heavily. They stopped sparing and Osferth was dismissed so he could take a break, meaning it was your turn to fight Sihtric.

“Ready?” You asked, grabbing two training swords and approaching Sihtric.

“Always for you” He replied, a smirk on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the smile on your face as you handed him one of the wooden swords. You stepped into position, and as soon as Sihtric nodded, you lunged, starting the fight.

As you continued into the day, the sun kept rising, and the air continued to get hotter, causing a thin layer of sweat to cover the both of you. You had been fighting for a while, and while you were able to block all of his strikes, he also blocked all of yours.

“Lets take a quick break yeah?” Sihtric asked, to which you nodded.

You put your hands on your head and walked around, trying to catch your breath, only for you to turn and have the air knocked out of your lungs.

Sihtric had taken off his leather armor, and was now removing his tunic, exposing his bare torso. You had only caught a glimpse before you turned back around, pretending to still try and catch your breath, only to make eye contact with Aethelflaed, who had covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing at you. You glared at her before taking a breath and turning around.

You were met with the sight of his muscular chest, adorned with tattoos and scars from his past. You had only looked for a few seconds, quickly returning your eyes to his, but it was clear he noticed.

“See something you like?” Sihtric asked with a cocky grin.

Oh hell no, he was not going to get you like this.

“No, I just think its a good idea, it is pretty hot after all” You said, watching Sihtrics eyes widen as you reached for the laces of your own leather armor.

You took off the heavy piece of protective clothing, followed by your own long sleeve shirt, leaving you in your trousers and a sleeveless, form fitting tunic.

You tuned to drop your things down, and once again made eye contact with Aethelflaed, who eyes were now wide with a shocked smile on her face, giving you a quick wave as she left to leave the two of you alone.

You turned back to Sihtric, his mouth slightly open in shock as his eyes met yours, then moved down your chest, then quickly back to your eyes.

“See something you like?” You teased, quoting him from before.

He shook his head smiling before getting back into fighting position, you following his movements, and then you were fighting again.

After a few moments, you landed a hit to Sihtric, an surprised expression crossing his face that made you laugh.

“That doesn’t count you distracted me” Sihtric defended, resuming the fighting.

Jab left, block, swing right, block

“So? You’re distracting me and I’m still fine” You replied

Block, dodge, block, jab

“How am I being distracting?” He asked, suddenly impossibly close as your swords crossed, causing your face to heat up a bit.

“Um... I mean your-” You muttered, trying to find the words to defend yourself, which Sihtric took as an opportunity, sweeping your legs so you were now on your back.

You yelled in surprise, before groaning in frustration as you looked up through the tall grass to see Sihtric looking down at you, a smile on his face.

“Yield to me” He grinned, pointing the sword at you.

“Fine, just help me up” You grumbled, holding out your hand.

Sihtric put down his sword and grabbed your forearm, you grabbing his as well, before using all your weight to pull him down, flipping him over so you were now straddling him with your sword at his throat.

“Your turn to yield” You said smugly, Sihtric looking up at you with a feigned hurt expression.

“That’s not fair” Sihtric whined, causing you to laugh.

“To bad” You shot back, causing the both of you to laugh before suddenly becoming serious, realizing the position you were in. 

Sihtrics large hands came to rest on your thighs as you straddled him, slowly moving the fake blade away from his neck and dropping it next to you. The other hand having landed on his chest meant you could feel his heartbeat, which began to quicken when you met his eyes.

Before you could say anything, Sihtric had moved his right hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, pulling your lips down to meet his. The kiss set you on fire, and you found yourself diving deeper as his tongue ran cross your bottom lip.

As your tongues fought for dominance, your hips began to grind down into him, making you aware of his now hardening member. His hands moved to your waist, an arm wrapping around your back to support you as he flipped you over so he was now on top of you.

His mouth moved down to your neck, sucking and biting at the flesh that would certainly leave marks in the morning, while also slipping his other hand under your shirt, trailing upwards. Your fingers raked through his hair, pulling at the roots and making him moan into your shoulder.

And then the fucker pulled away.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked looking down at you.

“Obviously, ya fucking arseling” You replied, making him laugh a bit.

“Just checking” He said, suddenly standing and pulling you up with him before leading you to his tent.

You snuck throughout the camp, hiding behind small structures before sprinting past others. You finally reached Sihtrics tent, and you couldn’t but giggle as he pushed you inside, his lips instantly reattaching to yours.

He knelt down and grabbed your arse, lifting you up allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. He walked backwards until the backs of his knees hit the cot, allowing him to sit down with you straddling his waist. 

You pulled away from the kiss, allowing you to quickly discard your tunic, Sihtric taking his time to look you up and down, his eyes dark with lust when they returned to yours.

“Too distracting?” You asked smiling

“Nope” He said, flipping you onto your back before masking quick work with his britches, you doing the same with yours, discarding them to the side of the tent and then Sihtric was back on you, his mouth crashing into yours.

His hand reached between you, guiding his length to your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You broke the kiss to let out a gasp, his size stretching you almost painfully. He started off slowly, pulling out half way before thrusting back into you, picking up speed with each stroke until you were a moaning mess under him.

Sihtrics mouth was continuing its attack on your neck, biting down to stop his own moans from escaping while he continued to thrust into you. However his attempts to stay quiet failed when you pulled at the roots of his hair, causing a deep growl to erupt from his chest.

“Sihtric I’m... ah” You breathed, attempting to let him know you were close.

“Me too” He grunted back, moving to lift your leg over his shoulder, creating a whole new angle that allowed him to bury himself even deeper into you, causing you to gasp loudly.

Sihtric began snapping him hips into yours more quickly than before, his hand moving between your bodys to circle the bundle of nerves at the apex of your legs. The combination sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure wracking though your body that made your head fall back and your toes clench, Sihtrics name falling from your lips like a Saxon prayer.

Sihtric continued to thrust into you, helping you through your high before his pace became sloppy, his own high coming over him as he emptied himself into you.

You both stilled, Sihtrics forehead resting on yours as you took a moment to catch your breath. After a moment Sihtric slowly pulled out of you and rolled to the side, now laying next to you. He put an arm around you and you cuddled closer to him, looking up to see he was already smiling at you.

“What?” You asked, smiling at his blissed out expression.

“You’re amazing” He said simply, causing you to laugh

“I’m amazing or the sex was amazing?” You asked jokingly. Sihtric put a hand to his chin, pretending to be deep in thought before he answered.

“Both” He said simply

“Well thank you” You said jokingly “You’re not to bad yourself”

“Really? I think I deserve better than ‘not to bad’ after I just had you screaming my name” Sihtric replied, a smug smile crossing his face as you slapped his chest.

You were going to shoot back a comment about his hair, when footsteps from outside caused the both of you to quiet down.

“Sihtric, you in there bud?” Finan asked from outside the tent.

“What do you want?” Sihtric replied, loud enough to be heard from outside the tent.

“Well, we were looking for ye and found yours and Y/N’s clothes just lying about. Care to explain?” Finan asked, causing you and Sihtric to look at each other with wide eyes.

“There were.... bees” Sihtric replied, causing you to have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing outload at his pathetic alibi.

There was a beat of silence.

“She’s in there with ye isn’t she?” Finan asked in a defeated tone.

“Hello Finan!” You shouted

“Just make sure to clean up after yourself next time.” Finan said, throwing their clothing at the tent “Heathens, the both of ye” He mumbled as he walked away.

The next morning you walked to the dining hall with Aethelflaed, having snuck out of Sihtrics tent to yours earlier to not cause suspicion. The whole walk to the hall, Aethelflaed kept giving you looks.

“You look happy this morning” She said curiously “Did you kill someone?”

“Can’t I just be happy?” You defended, causing Aethelflaed to raise her hands in apology, but she still looked at you with suspicion the rest of the walk.

You entered the hall and made your way to the long table, sitting in between Sihtric and Osferth, Aethelflaed choosing to sit between Uhtred and Finan on the other side of the table.

You gave Sihtric a quick smile and turned to eat, moving your foot so it was touching Sihtrics under the table. A small smile crossing him face, before he continued his conversation with Uhtred, all the while Finan was eying the both of you.

“What's on your neck?” Uhtred asked between bites of food, moving to point at a spot that was just poking above the collar of your armor.

“Hmm?” You asked innocently, before the colar of your tunic was suddenly being moved by Osferth, exposing a large purple bruise.

“What happened?!” Aethelflaed asked, worry in her voice.

“Umm...” You started, trying to come up with an excuse, before making eye contact with Sihtric, a smile crossing your face “Bees”

Finan spit out drink, choking a bit as you and Sihtric laughed, the rest of the group slowly starting to realize where the marks came from.

“Ah, bees” Sihtric said, desperately trying to suppress his smile and laughter, followed by the sound of Finan slamming his cup down.

“Ye need Jesus, the both of ye” Finan said, pointing at the two of you, now causing the whole table to erupt with laughter. 

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

A/N: My first ever ‘The Last Kingdom’ Fic! I hope you guys enjoyed, feel free to leave any feedback or requests. Also if anyone writes TLK fics please tag me, I’m in need of love from the pretty boys :(

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

[panicked slurping of wine through a bendy straw]

So this week has not been a good writing week except for those three random fics I wrote that I love so very much, but that’s okay! I intentionally crafted my Whumptober Project to accommodate all 31 prompts without having to worry about one a day. And honestly, it’s not that bad all told. I’m more stressed about work than I am my hobby. Like dude just let me CHILL, work. Please??? Fucking inventory.

Anyway, I’m ONE SCENE AWAY from finishing Chapter Ten of the Creedemption fic. At a rough estimation, it’s gonna maybe tap out at 11k, which is hilarious for a chapter that is mostly relationship building, but also I love it.

So here’s a scene from this chapter, wherein Beau and Molly have some Real Talk.

Beau stopped a few times to check the walls for any indication of thieves’ cant. “So not to be your therapist or whatever, ‘cause I’m not qualified for that shit, but is this just about drugs?”

Molly froze midway through knocking on a stone wall to see if it was perhaps illusory or otherwise fake. “What else would it be about?”

“Escaping your metric fuckton of problems that you are so pointedly not talking about?” She turned to look at him, and Molly became acutely aware that the alley entrance was very far away and this side had a dead-end, so if he wanted to flee from this conversation, he’d have to get past Beau, who was probably not going to let him leave without a fight.

He played himself, basically. 

“I don’t have any problems,” he lied through his grit teeth.

“Bullshit. You melted a guy’s brains.” Her eyebrow was up so far her piercing was almost touching her hairline.

Molly groaned and slumped against the wall. “How many people saw that?!”

Beau shrugged. “Just me and Caleb.”

“And Caduceus, apparently.”

“Yeah, well, he sees everything.” Beau ran a hand over her face. “So what’s going on, Molly? Is it Cree?”

He slumped further until he was sitting on the grimy stone of the alley and could not be arsed to care about what it might be doing to his coat. “No… I think it was always gonna happen. Probably. I dunno.” He kneaded the heel of his hand into his eyes. “I think it’s… the tattoos. The ones that aren’t tattoos. The marks. Whatever.”

“The eyes?” Beau knelt in front of him and pulled his hand away from his face so she could examine the two in the snakes. “So these things give you crazy superpowers?”

“I guess?” He made another noise of anguish, softer this time. “It’s so complicated. I’m…” He bit his lip. He hadn’t even told Caleb this yet- only Fjord and Yasha had seen him wake up from his nightmares. “I’m havin’ dreams. Dreams of this… this city. This horrifying city. And all these voices. I think whatever the hell Lucien was mixed up in, it’s trying to bring him back. They keep wanting me to-to wake them up.”

“Wake them up?” Beau squinted harder. “Molly, that sounds crazy.”

“No,” he murmured, sardonically. “I thought hearing voices was the sign of a perfectly sane person.” He took his hand back from her. “Regardless, they’re wakin’ up without me… doing anything. Three of them. Three out of nine.”

“And if all nine wake up?” Beau rocked back until she was also sitting on her butt in front of him, knees drawn up. “Lucien comes back?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged.

“And we’re going to Nogvurot where Cree’s friend might just forcibly wake them up?” Molly noted that her knuckles were clenched so tightly, they were turning pale around the edges. 

“I don’t think she can do that. I think they only respond to me… My feelings.” The more he talked about, the crazier it sounded. “It doesn’t make any sense to me, either, so don’t… Just don’t ask.”

“That doesn’t fix the Nogvurot problem,” Beau pointed out. 

“I… Might have an idea about that.” Off Beau’s look, he continued, “Let’s say, hypothetically, between here and there Cree agrees that I’m a valid inhabitant of this extremely attractive body.” He waved his hand to indicate himself. “If Tyffial is good enough to maybe bring Lucien back like Cree thinks… maybe she’s good enough to stop whatever this is from happening.”

Beau shook her head. “That’s a pretty big ‘if,’ Molly.”

Molly sighed and then spoke, more quietly, more lost. “I can’t go on like this, Beau. And I can’t… just continue as if this never happened. It’s not fair to any of you, but… I need this… this group. I need this so much. And if that’s selfish, then I’m selfish, but I don’t want to have to leave you all because I’m not safe. I’ve never had to be alone.”

As his voice started to break, Beau started to panic and pitched forward a bit and then awkwardly tried to figure out what to do, eventually settling on just putting her hand on his shoulder. “Molly… hey, hey… don’t. Fuck. You’re gonna make me get all mushy here. We’re not leaving you. Whatever this shit is, we’re gonna figure it out. No one’s gonna think you’re a fuckin’ bomb about to explode just ‘cause you have some freaky new powers.”

“Except I am a bomb.” And he put Caleb to the task of taking care of him should he come even a little bit close to going off, which was unimaginably cruel of him, but he didn’t think anyone else would do it. Not even Beau. “I didn’t mean to… melt that guy’s brain.”

“He was gonna hurt you. You stab people for that just fine.” She sighed and moved to sit by him.

“That’s different. That’s not….” He paused. “… impulse.”

Except isn’t it? Isn’t literally everything he does in a fight muscle memory and something in his blood that makes it so? The stupid eyes bleed whenever he uses one of his… freaky blood powers. That all came from Lucien- maybe it came from those weird voices too.

Maybe he was in the same position as Fjord, stuck with an otherworldly patron he didn’t want. The problem was Fjord seemed to relish in the abilities he had. Molly would be happy to be without him… Except no. No, he wouldn’t. He liked being able to protect people. The circus would have been dead several times over if he hadn’t leapt into the fray with prop swords swinging.

He dropped his head onto his knees. “I don’t want to become something I’m not. I don’t… Look at Cree! Lucien couldn’t have been good for her.”

“Yeah, that relationship was clearly super toxic,” Beau said drily. “Do you seriously think you could become like that?”

He lifted his head off his knees, but only a bit- just enough that he could give her a sidelong glance. “He did. Somehow. And besides… I haven’t had a choice in things so far. It might be inevitable.”

Beau took that in for a moment and then she balled her hand into a fist and punched him hard in the shoulder. It was so rough and so unexpected that he tipped over onto his side and nearly got tangled in his own coat. “Fuck. You. Molly. You don’t get to talk about paths and wield your Tarot cards like you’re a godsdamned expert on what people need and then say you don’t have a choice.”

He could feel the bruise blossoming on his shoulder and the oncoming stiffness. He was gonna need that hot bath after this, apparently. He opened his mouth to say something, found he had no words, and closed it again.

Beau, however, had plenty of words. “You know when you died? All I could think about was when you said you left every place better than you found it, and how fucking arrogant that was, but you were right, you son of a bitch. We were better since you walked into our lives. I was better. And if you think you can fall so hard and so far thanks to something beyond your control, then what does that say for the rest of us?”

Molly snapped his jaw shut with an audible click, eyes wide. 

She reached over and grabbed his coat and pulled him up close. “So we’re gonna return the favor for you, you arrogant piece of shit. Lucien can’t have you. Whatever Lucien’s got goin’ on? That can’t have you either. The Tombtakers? Fuck ‘em. We’ll go to Nogvurot and fulfill your stupid bargain with Cree, but don’t you dare think that we’re letting anyone fuck your brain up without a fight. We’ll keep reminding you of who you are. You made us better. We’re not letting you get made worse.”

She released his coat and he fell backwards again, catching himself before he cracked his skull on the stone. Once more, he gaped wordlessly, swallowed, and then, “So how hard was that to say?”

“Fuck you, Molly,” she spat, without venom. She stood and brushed herself off and then, after a second, extended her hand to him. “Come on, Obnoxious One. Let’s find some fucking drugs.”

Molly stared from Beau’s face to her outstretched hand, still sprawled awkwardly on the ground, and then, cautiously, he took her hand, and she pulled him up, and he thrust himself into her space to give her a hug, pinning her arms to her side so she couldn’t hit him, easily.

“Thanks, Beau.” He would’ve felt better if his voice didn’t come out so choked, but maybe that was the only thing that kept her from finding some other way to commit an act of violence against him.

She awkwardly patted his back after a moment of just standing there, rigid as a board. “Yeah… You’re welcome.”

[ntamain]

Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she's gay?

another gay gem from the r/relationship reddit

Update:

Image ID under the cut, please let me know if I did it wrong!

[Image ID: four screenshots of a post from the relationship subreddit by tumblr user nta-main. The title reads “Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she’s gay?”

The text reads “Update post is now locked, I cant believe so many people were interested in us!! Thank you again for your support, comments and messages.

Hi all, I can't believe I'm asking for advice from a bunch of strangers on the internet but I don't really have anyone I can talk to about this. Sorry for the incoming essay but I guess I need to give history. I bought my first house in September last year, It was an odd time but everything just fell into place. It's quite a small village and everyone is really friendly so I got to know my neighbours soon after moving in - yes, socially distanced. Then I met my over-the-road neighbour, let's call her Elle. I can't describe it but it's the first time I've ever met someone and been lost for words and my heart was racing and just thought "omg", y'know?? So after I blushed my way through a welcome to the village type convo we only saw each other for a wave and hello for a few days.

To help kinda settle in I had my dog (Bea) with me for the first few weeks. During this time there was a massive increase in dog thefts in a nearby town, not just from gardens but literally wrestled away from people. If I'd have been working (furloughed off and on since March) then I would've taken Bea back to mum's but since I was home with her all day she stayed. So the local police advised to not walk dogs alone but we go out twice a day, a 10k run in the morning and a few miles walk in the evening. So obvs this scares me, but at the same time she is honestly a pain in the arse and gets upset if she doesn't go for a run and needs to be tired out so I'm kind of stuck at this point. Then along comes Elle. She knocked on the door and offered to come with us as she'd seen Bea and me in the evenings and everything kind of spiralled from there. I told her about my morning runs but she didn't really bite so I thought nothing of it. Then a few days later I bumped into her on a run, so she started joining us on those too.

A few months later and we are spending more and more time together everyday. It has now progressed to a run early morning, afternoon coffee, dinner most evenings and then the evening walk. It just seemed to happen without me really noticing. I didn't read into things that much as I don't want to get my hopes up and ruin anything until another neighbour commented about how much time we spend together and how "it's nice to see you young gals getting on" and winked. She actually winked at me. I asked her what she meant but she just laughed and said "you know what I mean". So now I'm looking back on things and wondering if she could like me too?

Here's some reasons why she might like me:

I went running along the same route at the same time for nearly 2 weeks before I happened to run into her a few days after I told her this?

I make her a coffee every afternoon (Elle is WFH) and take it over in her fave mug. She says I make good coffee but I'm pretty sure I saw a fancy coffee machine the first time I went round (it's not there now?).

Elle carried on running and walking with me even after Bea went home. I told her she was going back to mum's and she said well "I'll have to make another excuse to join you" and then we just carried on everyday.

She has tried really hard to bond with Bea. Bea is a very anxious dog and is scared of everyone except me and mum. Elle bought special treats to give her everyday and has been so amazing with her and never tried to force anything. When I asked her she said "it's important to me that she likes me and is comfortable". Bea actually fell asleep between us on the sofa yesterday and It just makes my heart skip a beat guys.

She invited me to the zoom quiz she does with her friends every fortnight or so and they were all like "oh so this is who we've heard so much about "

We realised we had become each other's support bubble. Elle asked if I was meeting anyone else and I said no, she said she was glad she had me all to herself (!!)

We gave each other quite personal xmas presents. Like, it actually made me tear up it meant so much to me. And she bought stuff for Bea!!

Reasons why she might not like me:

All the reasons above, but that she's just doing them because she's a fucking great person and we're friends?

It might sound dumb but idk I need your help guys. She is the just the most incredible person I have ever met and I really really like her but if she isn't gay or doesn't feel the same I don't want to lose her friendship as she has become such a huge part of my life. I genuinely have no experience with these kind of things as I went to quite a strict all girls school, so it's not as if there were any relationships around me as a teen and then I went to a very small uni (8 of us on my course). I guess another reason is that I've struggled with anxiety and depression for the past 10 years, as well as my weight and working on my self confidence, but I can say that right now I am the happiest and healthiest (both mentally and physically) I have ever been. I've only just really become comfortable with the fact that I'm gay and I have never really told anyone in real life, but I don't think people would be too surprised lol. I don't have any close friends as no one stuck around when I was really struggling with my MH a few years ago so I can't discuss this with anyone irl.

So I need your advice : how do I find out if she is gay? And no, I don't have the confidence to just ask!! What if she says no and I ruin everything? She has never mentioned anything about past relationships and I'm pretty tactless so not sure how I could naturally slip it into the convo. Like, "hey tell me have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you want one now?" Lol. And how can I make a move without really making a move so I don't ruin things??

tl;dr : Don't know whether my neighbour is gay and into me or is just really friendly. How can I make a move without ruining our friendship?

Edit: Ok guys, thank you so so much for all your support and encouragement. You've all given me a lot to think about. I think I'm going to casually slip some gay stuff into conversation and see how she reacts. Then bring up the neighbours comment like some of you suggested, seeing as tho the neighbour was heavily implying that we're gay. I'll do it tonight otherwise I'll talk myself out of it again. I will post an update to let you know what happens (eek). If you never hear from me again assume it went badly and I am consoling myself with cake and watching brokeback mountain in floods of tears.

Hi reddit, yes it's me the useless lesbian. First off I want to thank you all for your support, encouragement and advice - and the undeserved awards! I never expected this many of you to take the time to comment and that so many of you were rooting for us.

So I had the plan to drop these gay hints into convo like you guys suggested but honestly it all went out the window. Elle was kinda stressed friday after a shitty work zoom and just needed to vent so it wasnt the right time to start anything. Though I guess I must have been a bit off thanks to spending all day overthinking things on here, as Elle turned up Saturday morning rambling about stressing me out and apologised (!!) for ruining dinner. Obvs I said "what are you talking about you can talk to me about anything", and she said "anything?" and I said "anything" back. And guys the tension was unreal, staring at each other and hoping our lesbian mind reading powers would kick in.

Then there was some loud noise like a car backfiring or something and the moment went. So I went to make coffee and then Elle asked me why I was a bit quiet the night before and I said something about overthinking stuff and she said "what stuff" and idk you guys I wasnt prepared to be put on the spot my casual gay pop culture references were useless in this moment. My mind just went completely blank and I forgot every single thing you guys suggested and my heart was pounding and I just blurted out you know I like you, right?.

...And then she kissed me. Kissed me. We straight up just snogged in the kitchen and it was fucking great. So...you were right. You were all fucking right. She's gay, she likes me and has been trying to drop hints for nearly 5 months. sigh

We were both just too scared to make a move or ruin anything. Turns out she's been burned by straight girls in the past, so she's pretty wary and was hoping I'd straight up say I'm a lesbian so she'd know for sure - maybe the I'm a lesbian wall hanging would've been a good idea after all? Her friends have been helping her drop hints, she showed me the group chat and guys their suggestions ranged from flirting more to just turning up in a trenchcoat and nothing else lol. Also, the winking neighbour has been making comments to her as well, so shout out to her for trying to make this happen too.

So no cake and cry watching brokeback mountain, just 5 months of dating to catch up on. As for worrying about how our current schedule could be more date like during lockdown, you were right it's kinda irrelevant when you've essentially been dating the whole time. Though we never made it to our morning run yesterday, in fact we didn't leave the house at all, ha.

Thank you guys for giving me hope, even if all your suggestions completely disappeared in the moment. Maybe I'll show her the post later and ask if any of the suggestions would have worked.

tl;dr: she's gay, into me and I'm an idiot”

End image ID]

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV: An Appetite for Ardor

Wolmeric Week #6: Food

A/N: Well, the plan was for food porn, but that didn’t...happen. So, uh, yeah, enjoy gremlin!Aymeric!

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6 || Day 7 || Bonus!

RATING: M WORD COUNT: 1567 WARNINGS: Two consenting adults being absolutely filthy without ever taking their clothes off except, like, not explicitly. Cross-posted to AO3

---

Aymeric peered around the doorjamb into the kitchen, a predatory look on his face.

Synnove stood at the counter, briskly whisking something in the large bowl cradled in her arm. Even with her back turned, she was a feast for his eyes: lovely dark brown hair with its dyed blue done up into crown braids and taped with a bright green ribbon, revealing the back of her neck and a hint of the very top of her back tattoo peeking just above her shirt; the strong lines of her shoulders and biceps flexing as she worked; the flash of her green aetheric tattoos crawling up her forearms; the absolutely gorgeous globes of her arse hugged by those sinful leather pants of her, highlighted further with the cant of her hip. After a moment, she set down her bowl and picked up another, sprinkling its contents—powdered sugar?—into the larger one, and then setting the sugar bowl aside to resume her whisking.

He could, faintly, hear her humming, a tune he had heard before: what the ambient aether of La Noscea sounded like to her. When she was lost in thought, she frequently ended up humming along with the aether of wherever she was and not even realize she was doing so. Combined with the rhythmic clacking of the whisk against the sides of the bowl and the soft shrrrrr of whatever was being mixed within it…

He went from predatory to devious.

He slid forward into the kitchen, careful to glide rather than step; Synnove was deep enough in reverie that she likely would not notice the barely-perceptible sound or vibration of someone walking, but better safe than sorry to pull off this bit of mischief. The motion was made easier with having taken his boots off when he had entered the house, leaving him in his socks for now. He moved around the one spot in the floorboard next to the table in the center of the room that creaked no matter how many times his lady repaired the subfloor and its joists, and then it was just one sliding step, two, three…

He came to a stop a fulm behind Synnove and slightly to her left. He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward; this close, he could see the hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise as her unconscious mind sensed him.

Into her ear, Aymeric breathed, “Boo.”

Synnove’s SHRIEK shook the kitchen, and he was already ducking down and aside to avoid her whisk as she whirled around, brandishing the tool like a weapon. The force of her momentum sent large dollops of whatever she had been mixing—oooh, chocolate buttercream—splattering onto the center table and one of the chairs; she froze when she caught sight of him, her chest heaving as she stared, emerald eyes wide.

And then they narrowed into furious slits. “You asshole,” she growled. “There are rules about sneaking in my kitchen.”

“You weren’t using a knife,” he said sweetly. “And you didn’t drop the bowl.”

She pointed the whisk menacingly at him. “Don’t try to find a loophole on me, mister,” she said.

Aymeric leaned forward, keeping eye contact with her, and darted his tongue out to lick the end of the whisk. If he had been physically capable of purring like a coeurl, he would have in that moment at the explosion of rich, heady decadence across his tongue. Definitely chocolate buttercream, and with a hint of hazelnut.

His lady’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating and a light flush rosing the bronze of her cheeks, and then she firmed her expression and scowled. She pulled the whisk back towards herself and tucked both it and the bowl of chocolatey heaven protectively against her chest, turning slightly aside for good measure. “There are rules about sex in my kitchen, too.”

“It’s a good rule,” he said, low and throaty, the predatory sensation of just a few minutes ago rising to the fore, and he took a step towards her. “Far less likely to court disaster. Or mental trauma for impressionable aether constructs.”

Synnove took a step back and immediately bumped into the counter. Her cheeks puffed out in the adorable manner they did when she was frustrated, but not the angry kind; this was an expression she rarely allowed anyone to see, and for a moment, Aymeric’s chest warmed with affection. What a treasure, to have the privilege of knowing such an extraordinarily woman at her most unguarded.

“You are a cad,” his lady said with a huff. “A louse. An absolute scoundrel.”

He smiled, sly and pleased, and plucked the buttercream bowl from her grasp, and then the whisk, with no resistance. He set them aside, but not before swiping a stray line of chocolate from the rim of the bowl with his finger, and popping it into his mouth to suck it clean. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as the flavor overwhelmed his senses for a moment; Synnove claimed to not be spectacular at cooking or baking, but experience as ever told him otherwise.

When Aymeric opened his eyes, the blush on Synnove’s face had crept down her neck and the vivid green of her eyes was nearly gone, swallowed almost entirely by pupil. He pulled his finger free of his mouth, and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the countertop on either side of her. They were close enough that their noses were but a hair’s breadth apart, and his lady’s utterly lovely breasts just barely brushed against his chest with every breathe.

“Your scoundrel,” he murmured, and kissed her.

Synnove sighed beneath him, those wondrous eyes falling closed and her fine-boned hands coming up to bury themselves in his hair. He nuzzled against the plushness of her lips, a rumble of satisfaction deep in his chest as her fingers gently raked across his scalp. He tasted chocolate on her, made all the richer by the tang of her skin, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that shook his shoulders; what cook didn’t taste their own creations as they worked, after all?

His beloved gently swatted at him even as a giggle escaped her, and in a moment, he had an arm around her waist to hoist her up onto the edge of the counter. She wrapped her legs around his hips in response, pulling him closer, and Aymeric growled, ferocious hunger sizzling up and down his spine. He had held her against himself just this morning before he had left for a day of bureaucratic drudgery, listened to her gasping, breathy moans as he had worked her to a gentle peak with merely his fingers, and still he found being pressed against her from chest to groin and cradled between her thighs as utterly intoxicating as the first time she granted him the pleasure of her favor years ago.

They broke apart long enough to gasp for fresh breath before they clashed together again, their kisses deepening to the edge of ferity with ruthless flashes of nipping teeth; even without bare skin in reach, the heat of her beneath his hands and every sweet sound he pulled from her sent fresh bolts of desire coursing through him. Aymeric had just enough awareness to keep his hips still, despite all his instincts screaming otherwise, and from the rigid tension he felt in her own thighs, shaking from the strain of not moving, he gathered Synnove was struggling much the same. Her rule was a good rule: he still had a faint scar on his palm from the knife that had sliced it open in a moment of lust-induced carelessness in this very kitchen, and the burn on Synnove’s arm from it connecting with the still-on stove had taken weeks to properly heal, even with potions and physick.

Gods, but the temptation to have her in the heart of her domain was damnably strong.

With a growl, he grasped her thighs, and Synnove immediately tightened her hold around his shoulders as he lifted her from the countertop. He wheeled around, fully intending to at least make it to the living room before he ripped her clothes off—

AHEM.

Aymeric froze, eyes fully shooting open and all of his arousal gone in an instant. Synnove’s eyes popped open, too, her face going pale and then bright, glowing red, and they stared at one another for a moment, horrified. They broke apart, and looked down.

Galette glared up at them and chittered angrily. Really.

Aymeric cleared his throat. “My apologies, Galette.”

There is CAKE TO BE MADE.

His lips did not twitch, because of course the sugar fiend’s priorities would lay there, but it was a near thing. Synnove’s head dropped to his shoulder, her blush so fluorescent he could feel it through his jerkin. He wasn’t able to make out what it was she mumbled.

Galette, however, apparently was, as she sniffed disdainfully and trotted out of the kitchen with a flick of her tails.

Synnove unwrapped her legs from around his hips and he obediently helped to gently set her on her feet once more, drawing his hands up to settle on her waist. His lady crossed her arms and glared at him.

“The rule,” she said.

Aymeric grimaced. “I know.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I deserve that.”

“And no cake.”

“Oh, that’s just cruel, love.”

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Yenskier is the perfect ship for a fake dating AU. Hear me out okay:

Jaskiers parents are really intense about his 'life goals' (or the ones they have for him). A solid strong relationship is key and they insist he brings back someone for the holidays

Since meeting Geralt at Uni and becoming his best friend Geralt has always been the person he brings back. Geralt is aromantic, but is fine with how touchy Jaskier can be and no one in the family suspects Geralt isnt actually his boyfriend (although his parents do make snide homophobic remarks)

Except now Jaskier is 27 and Geralt is in his 30's and is adopting a child and it would be SO complicated to explain why Ciri is calling Geralt Dad but not Jaskier so he tells his family he and Geralt broke up

Essi was GOING to be his plus one at Christmas but then she gets a girlfriend and it's all over Facebook and his parents can actually use that social media site so that's not going to work

It's two weeks before Christmas and hes desperate. Renfri said no. Triss is busy. Hes almost at the point of asking Valdo Marx (at least hed get plenty of hate sex out of that one)

And then last minute he remembers YENNEFER

and NOW we see why this is the perfect ship for this dynamic. Because dont get me wrong I LOVE IT when characters fake date and realise it would change nothing about their dynamic but!

Yen and Jaskier? They're good actors. It would change A LOT when they were in the presence of the family

So you have Jaskier realising he prefers Yen when shes just Yen and not the sweet weirdo she is in front of their parents

But also Yen takes an immediate dislike to his parents and is like 'hey remember that post about pegging to annoy the Christian neighbours...well'

(Dont ask why she brought her strap on)

So they have incredibly loud sex and it REALLY annoys Jaskiers parents because Jaskier screamed 'fuck me up the arse' while they had company downstairs

And Yen and Jaskier are living for this and having so much fun and they start to plot to see how they can wind up their parents the most

'I just LOVE Yennefer so much I'm thinking about getting her name tattooed on my chest'

'Oh Jaskier-bear I forgot to bring out handcuffs :( guess we cant do bondage tonight...unless your family has some rope?'

'Oh yeah, when we get married I'm taking Yennefers last name.'

And so on

Except throughout all of this they have now a) had sex and b) they are actually having so much fun with the plotting

And Jaskier doesnt fall in love with the acting, he falls in love with her

Angst potential if Yen thinks it was for the acting in a misunderstanding

And come on! Its fluffy! Its sexy! It's just perfect