#i know he doesn’t actually have black nails but. in my heart he does

[nato-obenkrieger]

ermm did somebody say more john amoroso art ☝️☝️ (no)

[lady-lauren]

❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”

The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh. 

The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind. 

He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants. 

“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”

“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”

The playful lilt in his voice is disarming. 

He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.

Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.

Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.

Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him. 

“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”

His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.

Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze. 

Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.

“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?” 

“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”

“You have no idea.”

Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.

He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot. 

“Cum for me.”

Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm. 

“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.

“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.

“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.” 

“Please, oh, god, please.”

His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.” 

“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”

He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.” 

“Promise?” 

“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger. 

How can someone so deadly be so adorable?

Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness. 

Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.

“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?” 

To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.

You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers. 

All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.

“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”

“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”

“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him. 

Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length. 

He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”

Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace. 

“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.” 

“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—” 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm. 

“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.” 

“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria. 

He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.

The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.

For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.

Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.” 

Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.

You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages. 

He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.

“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.” 

“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.” 

“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”

His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.

You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”

Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames. 

You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit. 

This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly. 

“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.” 

Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control. 

“One more, baby.”

He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins. 

“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.

Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin. 

He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.” 

You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls. 

“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”

You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.

It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere. 

“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face. 

All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds. 

He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy. 

His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest. 

“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—” 

“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.” 

It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy. 

[moonstruckme]

ahhh could i request sirius with reader that always matches her nails with him. i feel like it would make him so happy. can be poly!marauders or just sirius x reader, whatever you feel like doing,

love you and have a great day <3

Thanks for requesting!! Love YOU and hope YOU have a great day :3

cw: cheeseball!Sirius

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 689 words

When Sirius opens the door to his flat, there’s another man sitting with you on the couch.

“I didn’t give you a key so you could come over and woo my girlfriend,” he drawls, hanging his keys on the hook by the door. 

“Is that why you invited me over?” James looks at you, appalled. “I love you, sunshine, but it’s purely platonic for me.” 

You nudge his shoulder with your own, hands occupied with a bottle of nail polish. “Stop being gross,” you complain, “both of you.” 

Sirius chuckles, rounding the couch and setting a hand on your shoulder. “Hello, darling,” he croons, tone overly indulgent. 

You roll your eyes but turn your head towards him, obliging him with a kiss. Sirius smiles against your lips and, once you pull away, eases onto the armrest beside you, arm comfortably around your shoulders.  

“So,” he says to James, “is Remus here as well, or are you the only one abusing your key privileges today?”

“Actually,” James replies, matching Sirius’ haughty tone, “he’s on his way. Your pantry is shamefully understocked, so I called him for reinforcements.” 

Sirius groans, taking the opportunity to collapse pitifully into your side, his face in your hair. You let your head rest atop his sympathetically, but in truth you’re both oozing contentment. Sirius loves that his friends come over whenever they want, almost as much as he loves how well they’ve taken to you. Not that he’d ever expected anything less than kindness from James or Remus, but the way they’ve brought you into their friend group so willingly, both taking the time to get to know you and spend time with you even when Sirius isn’t around, makes his heart feel too big for his chest. You clearly appreciate the welcome, too. You think your efforts to thank them go unnoticed, but Sirius doesn’t miss the look in your eyes, a mix of giddiness and nerves, when you buy a book you think Remus will like or bake cookies to bring to Lily and James’ flat. You haven’t had quite enough time to feel secure in their affection, but Sirius’ friends never hesitate to prove their sincerity. 

“Wait a minute.” James grabs Sirius’ hand from your shoulder, holding it close to his face. Sirius waggles his fingers in James’ grip. “This is the same color she’s doing.” 

Sirius looks at your nails for the first time, shiny and still wet. “Yeah? You been digging through my polish again, baby?”

“You have better colors,” you say simply. “Plus, it’s fun to match.” 

Sirius takes your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks together while you can do nothing about it. Your glare is playful, mouth pouting against your will, and Sirius likes the look of his nails against your skin. The color suits you. 

“Get your own personality,” he says, kissing your pushed-out lips.

“Shuddup,” you say, words muffled, and Sirius releases you. Your lips curl into a smile the second they’re free to do so. “You love it.” 

“What do we love?” Remus asks as he comes in the door, a giant bag of crisps in his hands. 

“Finally!” James leaps up, seizing the bag from him and tearing it open. “We were talking,” he says through a mouthful, “about how Sirius secretly loves it when Y/N matches her nail polish to his.” 

“Oh, absolutely he does,” Remus says mildly, taking a seat in the chair next to you. “Wouldn’t shut up about it after the first time you did it.” 

“Oi,” Sirius objects, “where’s the loyalty? Do you tell my girlfriend everything I say and do?”

“Yes,” James replies easily. “How else do you think we occupy ourselves when you’re not around?”

Remus shrugs indifferently, and your face takes on a pinkish hue. 

“Traitors,” Sirius grouses, but it’s without real upset. He gave up any pretense of coolness around you long ago. 

You hold up your nails, now dry, and place your fingers next to his. 

“I think it looks good,” you muse softly, smiling as he intertwines your fingers, tilting your hands this way and that admiringly. 

“Now they’re perfect.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

🤠🫶:

I am CACKLING like a cartoon villain oh my GOD you are a genius!!! Of course the toxic king breaks his back of COURSE he does the fucking idiot (affectionate), so there's fuck-all he can do with reader's big announcement that this was all worth it and he can totally get some...yknow, in a couple months. AHHHHH. And she just wanted to give him something to look forward to, motivation for the physical therapy <33 (she boops his nose while he lays there wishing for death and cowering from her, of course she does, omg. i love them your honor!!)

and maybe she gets more confident now that he can't fucking move 💀💀 (lmao, oh god. König if you weren't such a menace this would have been easier for her a lot earlier and nobody would be in this situation) and maybe this leads to way more sensual  touching from her on her own initiative; she's curious, after all, and she does like him a lot and she's just trying to help him get better, you know? and König eats that shit up, starts telling her all about these itches and sore muscles he can't reach, could she be a dear (trying to act like he's not literally begging for her touch) and then he basically blacks out the first time her hands linger and drift, but probably better that than the things he was going to say to her. So König wants to die, this is too much, he's done, he's a goner each time she visits him. and damn her, she's a devoted little thing, never misses visiting hours. Always so sweet and caring towards him and it's the perfect image of a faithful, doting housewife without the wife or the house or the sex part of it lmao. And of course he can’t move when all this is happening!!! so basically just more torture and his mind just kind of breaks into little tiny pieces held together by demented lovesick lust-filled fantasies. he says some absolutely filthy things (makes the cunt licking look family friendly in comparison), he can't control it really anymore, and poor reader is shocked/horrified and blushing furiously, but thinks it's the medications and the pain and whatnot, tries to be understanding, only chides him once she gets her shock under control (and he's actually stone cold sober the entire fucking time lmao, but he ain't telling her that, she'd run if she knew). 

AND THEN MAYBE~~ (dun dun dun) one day reader is FINALLY reaching under the stupid hospital bed blanket - he can feel her soft little fingertips and carefully manicured nails travel down his abs, trace the V of his hips (my man is going to black out again, good lord) and she's looking at him with big round eyes and she's nervous she's going to do it wrong and he won't like it (as if), and it's taking FOREVER for her to get her hand between his legs bc sweet little thing just wants to do it right, and he's out of his mind, half-crying, whisper-begging at this point (it's probably not even English, not German either, just mindless pleas). Her hand FINALLY wraps around his length and he's lucky he doesn't cum right then and there; she's blushing so violently at taking a man in her hands for the first time and she's seeking HIS approval with those pretty doe eyes as she bites her lip. So of course that's when there's a knock at the door (the universe hates him, he's going to scream, whoever this is is lucky he can't move and they might die anyway from the blast radius of sheer rage) and a doctor comes in for daily rounds. Reader barely has time to yank her hand back before doc sticks his head through the privacy curtains and yep our man's heart might actually just stop, he is just going to keel over right then and there. 

so not even a handjob for our poor king <3 if he doesn’t die (lol) he transfers to in-home care IMMEDIATELY and finally gets reader to himself in a more private setting where he can lock the fucking door. this is the part where I look away lmao, I'd leave him blue-balled & suffering forever ...am i a mean person?? also RIP to that doctor. this verse is so hilarious & wonderful and i love it, feels like a tug of war between tropes and genres if that makes sense which results in your delightful genius works, thank you thank you <333

This is so beautiful. I am puddle & I can't thank you enough for collaborating & I LOVE YOU Howdy anon 💋 and um, I think I got a little too excited about their first time lol oops (I can't leave him blue-balled forever! Poor man would die of heart failure 🥺)

(Tamara and Demon (1864), Mihály von Zichy)

Word count: 3.7 k

CW: 18+ NSFW. Corruption kink goes brrrr. Masturbating, dirty talking, obsessive/yandere König. Awkward handjob. First time/virgin!reader. Kinda sweet and fluffy 🩷 Also coersion/mildly dubious consent, tread carefully!

A/N: You can find the story of König x virgin!reader and their relationship so far by following the tag (könig x virgin reader)

Oh she visits him alright!

She’s much braver now that König is bedridden and can’t move. They actually spend more time together after the weightlifting accident. The intense stares haven’t gone anywhere, he's actually gotten worse in that department, but otherwise, König is behaving quite nicely.

He seems to like it when she reads to him next to his bed, which is immensely cute in her opinion. Armed with a new book in the crook of her arm, she’s on her way to visit him again for another session.

She's already accustomed to simply floating in after giving his door a light rap. She's also gotten used to the sight of guns and knives and the smell of army storage, even the manly, pungent stench of sweat that lingers on top of it. 

But it’s not the potpourri of masculine military scents that stop her at the door and nearly make her drop her book.

The King himself is lying naked on the bed – well, naked except for the bag of a mask he seems to hold on to like it’s his soul. This time, she doesn’t even see it: her eyes fly straight to the towering erection he’s stroking, urgently with one hand while the other cups a pair of shaved, pale balls.

"König…?" 

The man who calls himself King curses – in German or in English, she can’t tell. The sight of him there, caught red-handed on touching himself, only makes her feel sorry for him. König has nowhere to run and hide, nothing to cover himself with, he's not supposed to even move yet. And he is not the one who should be embarrassed, after all, she's the one who barged in on his privacy. 

Although… König doesn't look embarrassed. 

He only looks drunk and sweaty and in need.

She thinks about turning back and leaving him with hurried excuses because what the hell is she supposed to do…? Read him a book? He is still gripping his cock like it’s a sword or something, breathing like he just ran a marathon. 

And speaking of swords, that weapon is far too big for her... Hell, she doesn’t know much about swords but she would deem that sword far too big for any woman.

If she were clever, she would run away from that stare and that huge, monstrous cock. But she’s not that clever, that much is clear because everyone she’s told she’s dating König have warned her about him. Every cell in her body is warning her of danger, but she keeps running back to him, over and over again…

Well, at least he can’t move, she thinks, takes a hesitant step, and places the book down on a table. Just when she’s about to whisper some calming, soothing words to this beast, the beast speaks.

"Take your clothes off," comes a husky command from the bed, and she freezes with her fingertips still on the cover of her cute little book about German fairytales (she knows König likes his fairytales bloody). 

Normally, she would make a scene out of such audacity. She might even storm out of the room and vow to never speak to him again for daring to talk to her like that.

But… 

He looks so desperate. König looks like a giant bound for torture on that bed. And he's not the only one who has been tormented these past few weeks… The incident at the hospital has plagued her dreams every night as she has tucked herself in with the memories of König's… sword.

Perhaps it would help with his pain if she offers him relief in his time of need. No harm can come from that, surely. She doesn't know how exactly taking her clothes off will help, but if that is his wish, then it’s the least she can do. 

To her and his surprise, her hands drift to the hem of the top she’s wearing. She’s feeling rather wild – something about seeing König completely naked yet unable to move is making her act like this. Like she's the brave one. Like she’s in control now.

Dedicated to her task, she pulls the shirt over her head.

Nothing moves on that bed for a good long while. As far as she can tell, König might've stopped breathing. But by the time she takes her bra off, there’s a swallow under that hood. Then the hand slowly starts to stroke again, the moist, slick sounds continue as her breasts fall free from their confinement. 

She’s breathing heavily too, and the man on the bed is stiff as a stone: every single muscle in his body is pulled taut as he stares at her breasts like they’re the Revelation of John. Then those blue eyes lift to her face just before another command is issued.

"Take off the rest."

"The–the rest…?"

"I just want to watch you." 

His voice is hoarse and croaky, and she feels even more sorry for him – König must be in so much pain and she just keeps on teasing him. She started this, so perhaps it’s better just to see it through. 

What’s crazy though is that he actually moans when she gets out of her pants, socks, and finally, her underwear. The slick sounds of fapping increase, and he’s moaning.

She hasn’t even touched him yet… She’s just standing there before him completely naked, heat pooling low in her belly as König continues to work himself with what looks like both pleasure and pain.

"Komm… Come here," he orders next, out of breath but surprisingly politely, and she has no other option than to approach his bed. She sits down as chastely as possible, then almost jumps back up when a steel-hard thigh brushes against hers.

"Touch it. Ja?" 

Her eyes grow as wide as they can go as she takes in the cock she has touched once before, briefly and under a hospital sheet. Now it’s right there, foreign and demanding. 

Better just to see it through, her mind tweets as her hand reaches out through what feels like water. Like before, there's a sharp intake of air under the hood as she takes him in her hand. It’s even hotter than she remembered, and gives a tight pull the instant her fingers wrap around it. 

"Like this…?" 

"Just like that…"

Her meek little mouse peeps and multiple bats of eyelashes are like drug to him, it seems. The man is as tight as a bowstring when she starts to move her hand up and down, mimicking the motions she just saw him do. They're not as fast as his, and her grip must be way gentler, but she seems to do surprisingly well for an inexperienced virgin. The poor man looks like he’s about to faint on that bed. 

What she doesn’t expect, however, is König to touch her.

A large, warm palm sweeps across her ribs and lands on her breast, softly, as if he's concerned that he might scare her off. She's the one who's stopped breathing now… And then he rubs her, squeezes her. Gently… Reverently.

"You're soft," comes a strained sigh from the bed as she tries to keep her own grip both tight and gentle. She’s starting to get so wet she fears she will stain his sheets. Bewildered, she tries to change her position, but the palm cupping her breast seems to have bound her to the bed too. Nothing moves, except her hand and his as they explore each other. A giant and an angel...

Something hot and wet meets her hand as she strokes him – is he cumming already…? But it can't be, she has heard there’s supposed to be quite a bit of it when a man cums, and there’s only a few ample drops of clear liquid oozing out of the slit on his tip.

"Can't wait for the day I get to make you scream," he rasps, and her heart is hammering in her chest as more cum-like liquid streams from the slit of his cock, adding to the lewd, moist sounds of the handjob she’s giving him.

König doesn’t know she has never even kissed a guy… 

"We'll… we'll get there," she tries to soothe him, thanking her lucky stars this man can't move.

"I want to fuck you," he continues, sounding more and more desperate. "Good and hard… until you cry under me. Want to see if you can take it all in."

"König…"

"It’s a long cock, ja? I can make you squirt."

"König, I'm still a virgin… You can't–"

"Nh–Sorry… sorry."

His head falls back on the pillow, his muscles relax just for the tiniest moment. But if she thought he would finally leave her to it, she was wrong. The hand of a giant killer drops between her legs next. 

She’s sitting on the bed like she would sit on a side saddle, with one leg slightly bent, giving the horniest man on earth good enough access to the heat between her legs. She doesn’t stop him – she doesn’t even want to – as broad fingertips meet her pubic hair and slip between her already slick folds. 

"...Was? Pretty angel is all wet," he comments on her state of mess. Approvingly: like all his fears have suddenly disappeared. 

She has to fight the urge to roll her head back and moan as those agile fingers start to give her full, generous strokes. She almost messes up her rhythm while stroking his cock, which seems to have gotten even harder.

His fingers delve into her with more courage, they tease her tight, tender nub with excited circles. She tries not to jolt and shiver as he makes her even more slick, tries to ignore how her nipples grow hard from that burning stare alone. 

"Such a pretty girl… and so wet. You sure you don't want it?"

She thinks about it – how it would feel if he somehow was able to take her on that bed. If he pushed that cock inside her and if it would hurt or make her moan even more. Even the thought of trying to fit that inside her makes her thighs feel like pudding.

"I don’t know… You're still recovering."

"Heh… That's not a problem. You can be on top. I'll help," he offers as if it’s a gentlemanly thing to do, to help her bounce on that huge cock. 

"I–I'd rather do it the classic way."

"I'll show you classic when I get better," he promises with unconcealed greed. "I'll show you all the other ways too. We’ll do it any way you like."

She tries hard not to whimper when hearing his promise. She tries her best to pleasure the biggest cock she’s ever seen. It’s ridiculous that it’s the only cock she’s ever seen... What sort of a cruel joke was it from the universe to choose this king-sized Austrian to be her first man? 

She wonders how König would react if she told him he’s too big for her.

Would he try to change her mind? Would he have a meltdown? 

Would he cry…? 

She doubts if this man ever cries. The last time a brutal soldier like him shed tears was probably when he was a kid. But he did look like he was about to cry that one time when she booped his nose... 

And despite being a cold-blooded soldier and somewhat awkward at times, König has always been so, so delicate with her. He's tender even now, touching her with the gentlest avarice there is. But that searing stare wants to possess her, devour her, and it makes her bite her lip nearly to the point of drawing blood.

"Sit on my face?" he offers next, this time sounding so desperate it's almost pathetic. 

Sit on his face… 

What would he even do? Lick her? Try to push his tongue inside her while finishing himself?

The thought alone makes her mess up her rhythm again and causes her pussy to pulse more wetness on his fingers. She secretly hopes he would slip at least one of those fingers inside.

"Let me see your cunt," he begs. God – this giant mercenary is begging to see her poor, aching pussy. "Just… let me at least taste you–"

She can’t even reply before the hand between her legs gives a sudden twitch and stops those delicious rubs. Actually, his whole body is going rigid. 

"König…? Am I hurting you?"

"I'm–gonna cum…" 

Oh god.

Oh god ohgod-

She's not sure what gives her more of a fright: the sound that leaves her soldier boyfriend as he cums, or the bright, hot flash of liquid that shoots from the cock in her hand.

He groans like it’s torture. Long and hard, so loud that she’s sure other people can hear it in the neighboring rooms, perhaps even further than that. There’s one, two, three spurts of thick, hot liquid, after that, she loses count because it spills to coat his stomach, it runs down her hand, and she’s pumping him in a frenzy while he just keeps on moaning.

"Slow, slow down–" he tries to groan in the middle of his climax and she obeys immediately, reveling in how his cock still throbs in her hand when she finally stops moving altogether. More cum gushes out with every strong pulse, even if the eruptions are less violent. Ropes of it already cover his abs, it coats her hand with thick film – it's far more than she would ever have expected, and a shiver goes through her as she imagines what it must feel like to take all of that semen inside her… 

"Ah… Das war wirklich…" König sighs dreamily while she must be looking like a startled deer.

Yes, that was really something… She doesn’t know what to do with his cock, or her hand, or the mess that coats half his body.

Luckily, he instructs her to take his old shirt from the floor and clean herself with it. She cleans him with it too, dabs the black t-shirt over his muscled stomach, even tries to swipe his crotch with it as gently as she can. 

König looks happier by the minute, looks at her like she’s an angel or something, and when she fully commits herself to getting him cleaned up, he gets another erection. She’s quite horrified – how is this even possible…? She thought men would need at least hours to get it back up again.

"Come on top," he offers, sounding all but seductive with that commanding tone. 

She swallows, thinking if König wants to be a "gentleman" and finish her too. With his tongue... or something else.

"Just for a hug? We don't have to put it in."

She seems to be under some spell tonight, because she simply drops the poor, cum-stained shirt back on the floor and crawls to the bed and on top of him.

König is hot and lean as she presses herself against him, her thighs now straddling the intimidating thing between his legs. Her head falls right beside his mask-covered face, and the smell of guns and fuel and sweat is prominent there, as is his natural odor, the woodland musk she has grown so fond of.

"There we go," his arms go around her waist, pressing her tighter against him. There’s no escape now, she thinks, but like always with König, she eventually softens and relaxes, molds against him… Accepts her fate.

"You did well, Meine Liebe," he even caresses her head as she slowly melts into his hold. "I’m sorry if I frightened you. Will you forgive me?"

"Um, of course."

"A gentleman should always apologize if he has upset his lady. Do you agree?"

"Uh… Yes."

"I promise to be a good man. The best man you could ever hope for."

She bites her lip as König continues to caress her. She’s far from upset, but she doesn’t want to tell him that and excite him too much. Otherwise he might end up hurting himself. He hugs her tight, and seems to have calmed down more than ever.

Is this what an orgasm does to a man...? The change is drastic, and her lover feels warm, and tender, and inviting. He even whispers more promises on her skin. They're nonsensical but gentle, König is probably trying to be romantic, but she can feel how his breaths grow heavier as time goes on. After all, they're both naked, pressed tightly together, closer than ever before, and he's having an erection again...

She tries not to shiver at the things he tells her. The husky promises of love and protection: "You are mine now, ja? Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. I will always keep you safe." And then, "You’re still wet, mein Mädchen… How about we practice just a little bit? We'll do it slow. Ja? I will make you moan…"

He coos those things in her ear while holding her in place for his cock. She starts to move on her own accord; it’s like her hips have their own will. Soon, her entrance meets the tip of him, still hot and bulged, and she starts to grind against it with barely restrained greed. She is wet – wetter than ever. 

König curses multiple times under his breath, and she feels so, so filthy for loving how unhinged he is, how unhinged she is – spread wide on top of him like that, trying to get off of the faintest touch of his cock. She’s so soaked that the hot tip of him glides across her folds with no effort at all. 

She feels like she’s doing something forbidden, taking her pleasure from him like that, but König doesn’t seem to know what the word filthy even means. He keeps praising her, guiding her, helping her, telling her how good she feels, that she’s doing so, so well.

Soon, he’s asking to put it in – just the tip. 

She tries her best not to sound too needy as she breathes a soft, mousy "Yes."

"How does that feel?"

He’s panting, few inches of thick cock inside her, and she thinks, did she just lose her virginity? Is this it? Why isn’t it hurting?

“You like that, hmm?”

He feels so, so good, pressing her against him, spreading her legs with his own, trying to feed more of that marvelous thickness inside. It doesn’t hurt, at least not yet. It makes her dizzy to even think what she must be looking like, with her legs spread and a huge cock partly inside her.

She should say something… What was it that he asked? Oh yes, if she likes it. She more than just likes it, and tries to push herself down to get more of him in. König reacts immediately with a ton of praise leveled at her in the softest possible way.

“That's it, that's it, pretty girl, take it in…”

Him cheering her on like that only makes her decide that it’s time to let go and let go for good. But she can’t get him in by herself, not while he’s holding her a prisoner like this.

"More… König, please," she hears herself whimper. 

God, is this all it took...? Him holding her close and letting her find the joys of sex herself? Apparently so, because he sounds goddamn smug when he turns his head to rasp more needy, throaty things in her ear.

"Ah… Knew you'd beg for it… "

His voice makes her inner walls clamp down on him, and that’s when it hurts, but only slightly. She wants him so much that it’s painful. And König… God, he keeps on showering her with praises and promises.

"I'll show you how good it can be… That's it, let me hear you. It's a good cock, ja? Good cock for a pretty girl…"

It’s not even fully in before he starts the thrusts. That’s when she knows she has lost her virginity. She’s being plunged. Not taken… Just… loved, thoroughly and deeply. 

When she moans, finally sounds as filthy as can be, he tells her how tight she is. How good she feels. He says he’s going to cum again soon. But not before her…

He doesn’t need to instruct her to rub her clit on his pelvis in rhythm with the thrusts. She is smart enough to do that by herself. And the thoughts of This is it, I’m not a virgin anymore have turned into Is it possible to cum on your first time…?

Everything’s perfect, all things considered. But there’s something missing.

"König," she swallows arduously. "I’ve never been kissed... Would you– Could you…?"

He stops moving, releases his hold a little. A strong heart is hammering inside his chest, she can feel it against her own fluttering heartbeat. 

Is it stupid of her to ask…? Will he only laugh at her for being so sentimental?

Apparently no, because it’s the warmest possible command that surrounds her this time.

"Lift the mask, angel."

By the time their lips meet, both hesitant and needy, he's fully inside her and holding her like a mountain. She feels like she's in a fairytale now: the only thing that moves is his mouth, and hers. Theirs is a slow, hungry rhythm. 

Her first kiss is not only awkwardly romantic and sweet, it’s sinfully good. 

The kiss also does things she did not expect. Her pussy goes tight around him, so tight that a whimper or two escape her nose, and König only purrs – she feels like the softest little creature in the embrace of a lean jaguar.

And she thinks… 

Why on earth didn't they do this months ago?

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Can u pretty please make daddy some Disney descendants headcanons and Rodrick Heffley too???

But kitten whiskers- I don’t do descendants….. BUT I WILL DO RODERICK

Roderick Heffley Hcs (General)

-he’s so bisexual you guys like actually in my brain he’s canonly bisexual

-he really likes getting his makeup done but pretends to hate it, like if you do it at first he’ll complain about you touching his face but love the feeling secretly and the result

-I feel like he has some really unnoticed trauma with how his parents treat him

-Greg gets to sort of be a brat and do whatever but I headcanon that maybe he thinks he’s really not good enough because his parents treat him like a delinquent

-everyone does, actually. His teachers, peers… imagine having that repeated over and over… eventually you just… believe it

-damn I didn’t mean to turn this angsty but yk it’s Roderick what do you expect

-He drinks milk from the carton (canon but honorable mention)

-I feel like he likes punk, emo, and rock music genres a lot and switches quite frequently between genres in his bands music

-also he’s a horrible driver (also canon but honorable mention)

-I also think he’s a horrible pedestrian, like he just doesn’t look before jaywalking

-absolutely the type to toast Greg about any music he listens to, unless Roderick likes it, then he will get some passive approval

-he thinks he looks a lot cooler than he does sometimes tbh, but honestly just has low self esteem due to his environment

-I don’t think he likes any veggies besides carrots unless they are on pizza, I just think he’s a picky eater lmao

-speaking of food he LOVES potato chips

-I think he’s not super informed on politics which can be annoying but sometimes he gets really into it which is nice to see, and if he had a partner he would let you rant about them

-I think he totally paints his nails, other colors than black too and doesn’t gaf if anyone has anything to say about that

-I think he really is a mamas boy at heart, I think even though they have more banter they get along a lot better than him and his dad

-but I feel like he thinks neither of his parents really understand him, and music is his way of coping with that sometimes

-if he hears someone talking about a band he loves he will get super duper excited but act disinterested so nobody thinks he’s uncool

-honestly just low damn self esteem and confidence, even if he pretends otherwise

-would have an amazing relationship with his brother if his brother would stop being a tattle tale 💀

-he gets paid around the neighborhood to do certain jobs like mowing grass or shoveling snow but he sucks at all his jobs, wether that’s being on time, or doing them in general, so most of the time Greg end up stealing his jobs

-the one subject he is surprisingly decent at is English- specifically reading comprehension. I feel like he has a lot of really interesting concepts but he doesn’t know how to word them correctly- and is too scared to anyway because he thinks no matter what he’s gonna sound stupid

-he has that one thing where there’s constant ringing in your ears from listening to music far too loud

-he lives for weird ass graphic tees and cool belts

-I feel like he likes some really niche bands and gets pissed whenever/if it ever goes mainstream- “I liked that before it was popular” 🤓☝️

-OKAY he does that thing where if a girl wear a band shirt he asks if she can even name five songs because he thinks it’s like flirty but it’s actually just annoying and he gets slapped for that

-The hygiene on this mf is disgraceful- only starts wearing deodorant AFTER he gets a partner

-one time he went out and got his ears pierced and probably now had some cool ass earrings

-even though he mains the drums he can play the bass and guitar pretty well

[torveiglyart]

Due to my inability to post a comic page today, I have some more fleshing out of the Avicorians… and a Lance AU.

Due to the unique materials that many Avicorian’s body parts are made of, this race has been poached to extinction. The feathers, bones, teeth, claws, and eyes of an avicorian are held in high regard on the black market. Although they are universally known as extinct, there was a rather large group of Avicorians that escaped the mass poaching epidemic by fleeing to a small outer-rim planet known as Earth, and hiding there.

As generations came and went, the degree of chameleonisation rose, making it impossible to tell an Avicorian from a human, 2,000 years after the genocide. The only indicator that a person could be Avicorian or of that descent is heterochromia, yet even that genetic factor happens in regular humans, so there is no sure way to identify them.

Like Alteans, Avicorians have a unique connection to quintessence. The light markings on their wings indicate a person’s connection, or “power”, to the quintessence they feel strongest. for Avicorians, the composition of quintessence differs based on the colour: Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Teal, Blue, Violet, and White. Coincidentally, this colour action works similarly to Earthling’s “Auras” in that personalities can be identified by the quintessence colour. Unlike Alteans, Avicorians cannot “wield” quintessence or manipulate it in the way alchemists can. They can react to and with it, like recharging a Balmera, but cannot utilise it, like Oriande shows. Avicorians require quintessence usage to shape-shift (to morph, not sustain), while Alteans do not.

Quintessence and meaning

Red: Passion, agression, impulsion, heart

Orange: Energetic, creative, impatient, skittish

Yellow: Stubborn, support, compassion, caution

Green: Inquisitive, petty, productive, amicable

Blue: Fluid, thoughtful, trust, fawning

Violet: Decisive, level-head, weary, calm

White: “Purity” White quintessence does not normally appear naturally as it is a refined version. There are no traits, as there are none with a connection to white.

Teal: “Raw Quintessence” Balmeran crystals are the easiest example of quintessence in a raw form. Curiosity, kindness, flexibility, empathy

And now the Lance AU:

Unknown to Lance McClain, he is half Avicorian. His parents, who were actually a full-blood Avicorian and his “aunt” Rosa, were killed in a car accident when he was only 2, and so he was taken in by his aunt Sophia, who he knows as his mom. He was never told of his true parentage, as no one felt it was important for him to know. He was a McClain anyways.

Lance always had heterochromatic eyes, brown on bottom, blue on top, but preferred to wear coloured contacts to hide the unusual colouration, especially after a bad spout of bullying when he first moved to America.

Years later, when Voltron went to aid an Empire outpost with broken shields, Lance sacrificed himself to save Allura from a beam of electricity and was revived by her newfound knowledge of Altean alchemy. Upon revival, he began to have strange pains in his back and nails, yet continuously brushed them off as battle scars or “the whole dying thing”. Months later, when they fight Lotor in the quintessence field, Lance passes out after their victory and wakes up in Red, his armor broken on the ground in front of him and eyes burning. He doesn’t actually take note of the changes until Red is packed with his things and the castle is gone. No one ran into him during the packing trips, but now that things have settled, Pidge is the first to point out Lance’s silence. It is then that Lance freaks out about the wings, blue sclera, and claws.

[certainlynotasimp]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

(Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~✨This is the one-shot version of this head cannon some one requested of Miguel O’Hara with a Black Cat!Reader. I still have no idea if this Anon , who I think I know who you are, wanted it to be the personality trope or the actual Spiderman character…oh well, I’m planning on writing one with y’all’s Spiderman x Black Cat lovers. Also this is my first attempt at some spicy content so feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: 18+ themes (Minors DNI), Not smut, Female Reader/Pronouns, Embarrassed Miguel, Jealousy, Dirty talk, and Google Translated Spanish (( again I’m sorry but hearing him talk in Spanish is literally just 🤤🤭🥵))

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of aggressive typing fills the empty space as six spider men enter the meeting place within the lobby of the Spider Society.

Miguel barely sparred any of them a glance as they mumbled their small formalities while dragging themselves to their seats. All except the one the blue spider absolutely loathed to see in this room.

“Good morning, Guapito~” A sultry voice purrs into his ear causing the hairs on his neck to stand up. The SpiderWoman’s minty breath caused Miguel to bite on his salivating tongue as he chewed out. “Good morning, (L/N). Please take your seat.”

Throwing on a mask of annoyance, he glares at the snickering temperest as she sits beside him.

The new addition to the society joined about three weeks ago and Miguel never regretted anything more in his life than letting her bat her eyelashes into his team. Her faux innocence deceived him into believing she wouldn’t be too much trouble until the devil perked her head out of her.

Soon accidental brushes in the corridor turned into lingering caresses. Polite compliments turned into flirty promises as she continued to twist him around her finger. He should hate it. Hate every single bat of those long eyelashes. Hate every cat like curl to her lip. Hate how she acentuates her muscles and curves when she’s close to him. But he doesn’t.

The only thing he can possibly think that he hates about her was the ravage thoughts she puts into his head.

And he hates how he loves it.

“Alright, since we are all here.” He states as he opens the holographic map through out the room. “We are dealing with a dangerous anomaly in dimension 1746.”

As he finishes that sentence, a brush of something against his calf makes his muscles jump. He controls his face to remain calm and collected despite the urge to glare at the snickering spider beside him.

The others look at her confused for a moment before she fakes a sneeze into her elbow.

“Oh, excuse me.” She plays innocent as she grabs a tissue and dabs her nose. “The change in season in my world is causing a really bad allergy season…”

Her pitiful excuse causes the others to turn back towards their leader with a soft chorus of ‘bless yous’ plays out. Her eyes turn to meet his ruby gaze as a sinister smile curls on her pretty mouth.

‘Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.’ Miguel mentally groans as he throws himself back into the meeting.

“Lyla.” Miguel calls as he watches the heart eyed AI materialize infront of him.

“Yea, boss?” She says as she picks at her nails. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he calmly asks, “Please show us all the information you gathered about the anomaly and what should we expect.”

“Isn’t that your job as the leader to do that?” The computer teases as Miguel glares at her.

“It does sound a lot more interesting when you explain it, sir.” A voice purrs beside him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand. His talons crack out of his skin as he grinned his teeth. Luckily, the red glow from the map allowed his heated cheeks to blend in.

“Well, (L/N), Maybe you should learn how to listen more to others.” Miguel grits out.

“Yea, hot stuff.” One of the spidermen whistles. “I’ll let you listen to me all night long.” He flirts as he uses the lense of his mask to wink at her.

The table almost cracks beneath the grip he on it as he tries to focus back on Lyla. “Parker-7853, you better watch your mouth before I send you home to your wife…” He warns he avoids eye contact.

The room goes back to the normal silence it was before as they all paid attention to Lyla explain the rules of the mission and the best ways to take out the anomaly without causing too much destruction to the fabric of space. Miguel focuses intently in front of him, but nothing the AI says processes through his brain.

The only thing he can think about was the burning gaze of the woman beside him. How she scoots a little closer and lightly traces her nail along his thigh.

‘Shit…’

As the agonizing minutes past by, the torture only got worse. Slight brushes along his leg and side, silent muttering of sweet nothings, disguised questions to hide the flirty remarks, and hyper attention on all of her perfume drove him mad.

His stomach was all in knots as he tried to remain composed as the meeting drew closer to the end. His fingers itched from the talons digging so deep into the chair as his fangs ached for a relief from the hunger she started in him. It’s hard to believe that she isn’t a Silk variant with how much she affected him….

The tension building in the room went unacknowledged but not unnoticed by the other spider men as Miguel’s signature frown was now a hardened scowl. The others didn’t dare point it out. They knew better than to call out their leader for being obviously distracted from the mission. They were all there when Miles Morales was at their base.

As the meeting ended, every spider man rushed out of the room before Miguel could properly dismiss them, leaving only him and his problem. The she-devil smiles sweetly as him as she stands up and innocently says,

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, Papi?” Her eyes shining with a look of mischief until she realized she broke the last bit of his resolve.

“Leaving so soon?” Miguel uncharacteristically smirks as he stands up and follows behind the woman. “I was hoping…” He pushes a button to cause the door to slam shut before the spider could escape his web. “We can have a quick chat about your behavior today.”

She turns and looks up at him in shock for a brief moment before slipping on her usual mask of flirtation. Her lovely eyes jumping from his looming figure towards any other way she could possibly escape. This wasn’t the usual reaction she would get from Miguel. He would normally scold her or roll his eyes at her advances, but today was different.

She’s fucked this time.

“Oh? I get some alone time with you today, Guapito?” She stuttered out as the growing dread and excitement bubbles up from her stomach into her rapid beating heart.

“Did you enjoy that?” Miguel asks sweetly, ignoring her comment as he stands just inches in front of her. His hand comes up beside her head and is placed against the door. His body leans forward as his open hand supports his weight. The tangible effect of watching his arm and shoulder flex from the strain almost causes her to pull her lip in between her teeth.

“En-enjoy what?” She acts coy as she tries to keep her eyes on his chest. She watches it vibrate with the deep cruel chuckle he releases and her own heart starts trembling as the smell of his cologne suffocates the air around them.

“Aw, is Gatita struggling to speak now?” A coo of false concern is laced with his amusement as she feels his other hand coming up beside her head. “What’s wrong, Gatita? Cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles at her struggling to respond as he threads his talons through her hair. He yanks her head back against the door softly as his hunger filled eyes burn into her wide ones. Jealousy and a long denied desire were now pouring out into his smirk as he leans down whispering,

“Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?” His smirk widens revealing his fangs as he trails down slightly. Her body starts to shake from the anticipation as his nose traces fire from her cheek bone and along her jawline.

“I-I don’t-“ Miguel hushes her softly as his other hand comes to rest on her hip. “Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…” He tuts at her as the talons lightly dig into her neck and hip.

“Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…” The Spider Woman had to bite her lip to hold back the noise building in the back of her throat as his fangs lightly scrape against her throat as he uttered sweetly bad things to her.

He smirks at this before saying, “Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?”

She vigorously nods as the mask of false bravado finally falls off before Miguel tightens his grip in her hair, causing a soft moan to escape her pretty glossed lips.

“Words, Gatita. I want to hear you…” He scolds as he looks at how pathetic the once flirty spider had become in his touch.

“Yes!” She admits as her hands shot up and clung to his chest as the stinging from her scalp causes her to yelp.

“Good…” His face comes back up to her own as he starts to lean toward. Her own eyes flutter shut as she waits for the feeling of his lips against her own.

But nothing came. Instead she felt his hands completely remove themselves off of her as her eyes shot open. Miguel chuckles at the stop whine as he smirks devilishly at her.

“This will have to continue another time, Gatita…” He says as he unlocks the door. His face quickly trains back to the normal stern expression he always wears before saying, “But, don’t you dare try to embarrass me in front of the others again or else I will do as I promised…”

The spider scurries out of there with a tight “Yes, sir.” As Miguel chuckles in satisfaction.

Before he could leave, the yellow AI materializes again with a wicked smile on her face as she teases, “So you do like her?…if you’re gonna sleep with her, please don’t do it when I’m around. It was hard enough watching your two eye fuck the whole-“

“Lyla, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.- She's gonna be the death of me.

Gatita-little kitten?? ((It also said it meant cooked 😭))

You think it's fun to play with me like this, okay? In front of all your colleagues?- Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?

Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…-Poor little kitten...can't even defend herself...even when another man threatens to take her home...

Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…—I almost thought about taking you right then and there...let them all hear how much of a good girl you can be for me…

Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?-Maybe even paralyze you with my venom so you can helplessly beg...but you would like that wouldn't you, pretty girl?

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter VIII

The office is actually General Sorrengails office with my father currently sitting in her chair. A dark aura fills the room, making me even more anxious than I already am. I want to go back, see Violet getting her shit kicked out of her by Xaden and patch her up afterwards. I would desperately do everything to get out of the presence of the general, who is glaring at me like I told him I would switch sides and fight with the gryphon fliers. Or like I just told him I would marry a marked one.

Not that I am opposed to it … a certain handsome face flashes behind my eyes.

“Sit down” his gruff voice orders me, which I oblige, folding my leg over the other, ankle resting on my knee. I wait anxiously for what’s to come but he stays silent for another few minutes, observing me with calculating eyes.

“I thought you wanted to come back for Threshing” I say hesitant after letting my eyes swipe over the massive map to my right on the wall. Something seems to be familiar about this map.

“Changed my decision” he answers coldly, interrupting my thoughts. He leans forward to lay his underarms on the table, hands folding in each other, still studying me and trying to find my flaws like he always does.

“I took the opportunity to see if the marked children are still under control and what you’ve been up to. Can’t stain my reputation, can you?” He doesn’t want me to answer, I know that it’s a rhetorical question. I swallow hard, thinking about my friendships I gained, my interactions with Jack and his minions and Luca, my squad member. There are so many possibilities, for what he could punish me.

“The professors informed me that your academics are excellent, no flaws or mistakes, which was to be expected. Emetterio told me about your first match, assessment. To punches – to be expected as well from a Melgren. And you won every other challenge these past weeks without earning injuries yourself besides …” while talking he stood up to walk around the desk and now stands in front of me, leaning against the desk.

Besides? Oh. Oh, fuck no … the fight against Trevor! Widening my eyes, I have no time to react. “I- “his hand around my throat quickly stops me. I am gasping violently for air while his hand tightens his grip, choking me harder.

“I told you so many times before, you never let your enemy lay hands on you. No injuries, no blood. And yet …. You failed me!” he hisses through gritted teeth and tightens his hand even more.

In my panicked haze I claw at his hand, black spots clouding the edge of my sight. I am barely conscious but then … his hand is gone. Air streams painfully fast into my lungs and my loud coughing fills the office. My heart races with more than one hundred wingbeats per minute.

My father sits back in the chair and reads through some classified rolls, ignoring the way I am still trying to gain my composure back. Without looking up, he speaks in my direction. “I will be back for Threshing in a few weeks. I expect you to do better than this and I also expect information on the behavior and activities of the marked children. We’ll see us again when you have your dragon.” Barlowe’s words swirl through my mind. Does father already know, if I’ll gain a dragon and maybe … what species?

With that, I am dismissed.

To my luck the hallways are still empty, the cadets still at the gym for another half an hour and after that they’ll directly go to the dining hall for dinner. I hope to see Violet still in one piece but all I can think right now is to get to the bathing chambers before I break down. I can still feel his hand around my throat, can still feel my nails clawing at his hand.

Entering the bathroom, I immediately sit down in a corner, breaking down in tears and gasp for air. This is one of the heaviest panic attacks since I had the last five months ago. Normally I have my emotions under control but today was shit, with my father being here.

For over an hour I sit in the corner, without anyone interrupting my thoughts spiraling, when the bells ring, indicating that it is time for dinner.

I am debating whether I’ll skip dinner but then the next meal would be breakfast in the morning and going for so long without food can be deadly here. I am sure that my friends are worried, and I really have to check if Violet is okay, after her “trainings fight” with our wingleader.

One look in the mirror confirms my suspicions – father’s handprint around my throat shimmers in various colors and tones. Covering with my shirt is not possible due to it being cut too low and my jacket is in our room. Fuck that. He did that to me, and even though he knew and wanted the other cadets to see the punishment, I want them to know what kind of person he is.

I walk through the still empty corridors and approach the closed doors to the dining hall. The chatter and laughter can already be heard from afar and as soon as I stand in front of the massive doors that separate me from the others, I want to turn around and vanish.

Taking a deep breath, I notice shadows lingering. Xadens shadows. Confused I observe them, but they ignore my presence and open the doors wide. Thanks for that, fucker.

*Violets POV*

 After my failed fight with our (hot) wingleader, we’re now sitting at dinner. While the other around us talk and laugh with each other, I wait nervously for Arya’s arrival. My friends notice how tense I am. We all saw, before she stepped out of the gym, how nervous and terrified she was.

“I bet Arya is fine and you are too worried” Rhi tries to cheer me up, which doesn’t work really well. I feel a tingly sensation at the back of my scalp, but I don’t give Xaden any attention because the giant doors just opened. Arya steps inside and the chatter is almost completely silenced.

No wonder – the ring of dark bruises adorning her neck attracts all the attention.

Shit, what did he do to her? And above all – why? She won all of her challenges without any problems, and in every subject, she is in top form. She is the best cadet in first year and beyond. So what the hell was the reason?

“I take back everything I said” Rhiannon whispers next to me, her wide eyes fixed on our red-haired friend. Looking around, everyone interrupted their dinner to catch a look at her, or more her neck. Would it be anyone else, no one would’ve been interested in her. But since she is a Melgren … everyone wants to know the gossip.

I can see a few marked ones whispering to themselves while they look at her – Imogen and the rest of the marked ones from our table under them.

A few seats away, at the head of our table, sits Dain. He decided to eat with us today, but right now he watches her with furrowed brows, trying to figure out what could have happened.

Arya knows that she has the attention on her, her tense and hard steps betraying her. And her facial expression. It’s been a while since I saw her so cold, so … terrifying.

Luca’s loud scoff interrupts my worried thoughts.

“Of fucking course, while we get our asses handled at the challenges, our little miss perfect here gets to have some fun” she sneers loudly.

Heads whipping around at her, shocked and confused, even Dain. Even over the distance I can see the leadership, Xaden and Amber Mavis and everyone else, tense and their widening eyes find Lucas figure.

What the fuck did she just say?!

“Luca-“ I start but am quickly interrupted by a loud crash of Arya’s tray, having the most of us flinch at the noise.

“You want to repeat that?” Arya says serious, in her deep voice when she is angry.

“Are you deaf? I said, while we have to get through the challenges, you’ve got some fun with that little officer” she repeats arrogantly.

Oh.My.God. Dain looks my way, his face screaming ‘Is she dumb?’.

Arya still stand behind her chair, arms tightly crossed over her chest, a serious and cold look adorning her face.

“Are you stupid? I am just asking because I am kind of concerned of your mental health.” She says, without a trace of humor in her voice. Ridoc presses his lips together, desperately trying to not let his laughter out.

“Excuse me?!” Luca squeals, which hurts my ears. I furrow my brows.

“Again, for idiots, who are too slow to think in a straight line: the officer you saw is my father’s right hand. He got me because the general wanted … to talk to me” her voice is still raspy, and I noticed the short interruption in her explanation.

“So, you want to add something intelligent to the conversation – then shut the fuck up if you have no idea!” She finally takes her seat in front of me.

Luca opens her mouth again but it’s Dain, that is quick to interrupt her. “Enough! Luca just shut up and eat. I don’t want to hear another word from you!”

*Arya’s POV*

“How are you doing, silver one?” I ask Violet.

“I am okay, not injured or anything, just sore” she says softly. Relief spreads through me.

I can feel eyes on me and let my gaze subtly swipe over the heads of the many cadets till they land on a certain handsome black-haired second year, sitting at the leadership table next to our section leader, Garrick Tavis. Bodhi is observing me quietly from afar, concern mixed with curiosity on his face. Xaden notice our interaction and sends me a threatening glare. What the fuck did I do to you, man?

I am interrupted by Sawyer. “What was your father’s reason to lash out like this?” he asks hesitantly. I swallow the turkey before I answer him.

“A few weeks ago, I was challenged by Trevor Laine form First Wing.” “One of Barlowes little friends” Ridoc says.

“Yeah. The general knew that I won the challenge, but …” I swallow harshly, taking a deep breath.

“A few years ago, when I had a personal training session with him, he told me to never let myself get injured in hand-to-hand combat by my enemy. I had to promise him, that I will do everything in my power to avoid getting hurt, because apparently to him, it shows weakness. Every time I had a bruise or the slightest scratch, he would punish me. You don’t need to know the methods, but it was ugly. That today was the softest one. I had a personal healer assigned to me, that would help me after, so I could start train again quickly after that. I never stayed injured for long and couldn’t rest afterwards. I have to be the best, or he’ll find more punishments way worse than the prior. My bet is, he’ll kill me one day, by accident or not doesn’t matter.” I finish.

“So when Trevor punched you and nicked your skin with his blade-“

“My father knew. And now I wear his punishment as a necklace” I joke darkly but my friends stay silent, even Luca or Dain.

“I’m so sorry” Violet whispers sadly. I send a reassuring smile her way. “I am used to it” is my only answer.

“That makes it just way worse” Heaton says from next to Sawyer, not looking up from his tray.

Just then I notice that the marked cadets from our squad sit with us. I can’t read Imogen’s face; she hides her emotions well.

“Since the day of conscription, I always thought, you being the generals daughter does you so many favors. I never thought about what could happen behind closed doors. I should have known better; he is the most ruthless general on the continent for a reason. I hope you can find your peace one day … without him.” With that she turns her attention back to her food. That was oddly … nice? What the fuck?

[flightfoot]

Marinette Completed Angst Fic Reclist

I know some people really like this genre, so I figured I'd make a list for it! These will obviously all be completed, and none of them will be bashing fics, and PLEASE don't rec any fics on this post that are bashing fics, I don't want to see them.

Some of these will have my own commentary about the fic attached to it, for if I've put them on a previous reclist where I had that commentary written out. But a lot of the older fics won't.

For a fic to count for this, the angst Marinette goes through can't just be her being upset about what someone else is going through, though the angst of the fic doesn't only need to be hers, so long as she has her own angst which is a decently prominent part of the fic.

---

one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.

Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.

Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

This is a simply phenomenal fic. You get to explore a lot of different perspectives, like Felix, Kagami, Marinette, and Adrien’s, just to name a few, and see their different thought processes and plans and priorities, and how it can cause their plans to collide with each other, even when they all ultimately are aiming for a good outcome for everyone. The characters are pretty complex and can mess up at times, even when they’re doing things (or not doing things, looking at you Luka) with the best of intentions. It was a joy to read and a real nail-biter the whole time, I actually wrote a fic for it halfway through just to resolve some of the tension for myself, One Does Not Love Shadows.

It also features the version of Luka I’ve connected best with to date, as he feels like Luka, but also is a lot more fleshed out, and can make some major errors while simply trying to avoid missteps. It’s helped me get a better handle on a character who I’ve generally had a lot of problems with really understanding.

It is an M-rated fic, though I think Wackus is being overly cautious on that front. There’s no sexual content and I wouldn’t put the violence or gore above a T-rating, so I wouldn’t let the rating scare you off.

---

you don’t even know me at all (but I was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle

They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there’s only one bed.

Yep, it’s the “there was only one bed” trope XD! I especially love how it was used here, how Adrien and Marinette are strangers now but they had a whole life together, and they pine for each other even without remembering, and how Marinette just can’t believe how in love with her Adrien is even though he doesn’t remember her. I loved the emotional turmoil the two of them went through together in the fic, and the resolution, it’s great!

---

fine line by @bbutterflies

“Catwalker?” Loveybug asks. “Hmm?” “Do you remember… what happened before us?” “What do you mean?” “Before we were heroes. Was there someone else?” Catwalker goes quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

This is a surprisingly angsty take on the Loveybug AU. Here, since the Loveybug and Cat Walker transformations are so unnatural, they’re having negative side effects on Marinette and Adrien, causing them to be constantly exhausted and even to get amnesia the longer they continue using them.

---

do you think I have forgotten about you? by @roseinaugust

Based on the song ‘About You’ by The 1975. Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.

Beautiful memory loss fic here, with seeing Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s relationship before she gave up the Miracle box, juxtaposed with the present day, when Adrien is only a stranger to her. I could really feel how Marinette was struggling with navigating these new circumstances, with her friends seeming to expect her to remember, to be who she was to them, to Adrien especially, before, and her just… not knowing whether she can do that. It’s got a happy ending though, for those who are concerned about that.

---

Our Tales Are Endless (That’s Why I Tell Them) by @joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It’s a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can’t help but wonder if there’s something else she’s missing.

This was a truly gorgeous story. It’s the classic “Marinette gives up the Miracle Box and loses her memories” storyline, exploring her life two years later. Even though she’s had time to heal and recover, she still feels like she’s missing something, something big. At least Adrien’s stopping by regularly to tell her stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir, even if she doesn’t understand why they resonate with her so well.

---

I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier.

If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

Nice aged-up Ladynoir fic here! Marinette’s struggling with losing friends and lovers because of her flakiness due to her superhero activities, until at last she breaks down. Thankfully, Chat Noir’s there at least - and it soon turns out he’s got problems of his own that he’s been hiding.

There’s some fluff and angst, it’s mostly just the two of them navigating life, dealing with their feelings and talking things out.

---

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.

How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….

- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays

*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.

---

Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.

Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years. 

As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.

I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.

---

in case you don’t know me tomorrow by @thelibraryloser:

“We live in a crazy world where pieces of our lives can be erased like they never even happened. I just wanted to memorize this moment so… so I could keep it, if that makes sense.”

Adrien’s heart gave a little flutter. She wanted to keep this moment, meeting him. She wanted to keep… him.

“I understand exactly what you mean.“

In a world that has created a way to selectively delete memories, no moment is truly safe. So how do you hold on to something when the memory of it is gone? And how do you keep fighting for someone when you’re the only one who remembers?

This is a SEVERELY underrated fic. It’s got some shades of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in the world, though the plot is very different - the memory erasure ain’t willing. 

Basically, the first few chapters are establishing Adrien’s and Marinette’s romance, and then the rest of the fic is dealing with Gabriel being an absolute DICK and using any means at his disposal to break them apart. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend reading it!

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hella enchanted by @xiueryn:

Years ago, Marinette’s father died and she was left with her awful stepmother. With magic forcing her to obey every command, she lived as a servant and gave up hope. When a man appears, searching for the very fairy that blessed her, Marinette decides to give life one more try. AU.

(a different ella enchanted au.)

Even though it’s a one-shot this one is pretty long, clocking in at over 30k words. Absolutely worth a shot, though. The first third is basically Marinette dealing with being pushed around because of her “blessing”, and the other two-thirds is just some adorable fluff of her and Adrien touring the country together. 

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Echoes of You by kittinoir

In the day time, she's Marinette - a normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with... Not Season 4 Compliant; please, no spoilers

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balancing act by fictionalinfinity

“Besides, being Ladybug always came first. It came before school, friends, and sometimes even family. Now it had to come before her health. Marinette had a duty to Paris. She wouldn’t let them down.” Or, being both Ladybug and the Guardian starts to take its toll on Marinette. - the epilepsy au literally no one asked for

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Some Days by @merrygreenie

Some days are worse, and others are a little better, little by little and day by day. Marinette Dupain-Chen is learning how to live her new normal after living in confinement and being tortured by Hawkmoth. She is thankful to have her friends and family to support her. And a very special Chat who loves her very much. *This story contains scenes of violence and torture this is a whump fic*

This fic has some great angst, but be warned, it's not kidding about the violence and torture. Honestly, it should probably be rated M instead of Teen, given that while the fic mostly takes place after Marinette escapes and while she's recovering, we do get a detailed flashback to her torture.

[deadguywalkin]

seb+sam+alex hcs because i am STILL gay and extremely evil + some pre t seb hcs because… sigh

( sam+alex centric!! aside from the last part )

cw: dramatic switch from ‘yeah alex and sam are traumatized’ to ‘sam likes boobs’. that pretty much sums this up. (minimal nsfw and most of it is jokey)

jewelry:

alex: minimal. no rings or bracelets because they get in the way. ‘does sam’s pick count? c’mon, i’m an edgy boy too!!’

sam: medium. face piercings and some rings

sebastian: not actually that much, but he only wears silver. gothic necklaces of dragons on swords, silver rings, and the likes. maybe even a blood vial.

hands:

alex: missing his whole index finger?? big big hands with some little scars. engulfs whoever’s hand he’s holding.

sam: calloused fingers, tiny scars from hurting himself a lot on accident. he has very shaky hands. also has his little memory bands

sebastian: thin fingers and careful, steady hands. chipped black nail polish. there is more of a reddish tint on his knuckles.

—————

sebastian carries bandaids on him because sam is an idiot and alex is also an idiot (they’re not idiots they just have 0 spatial awareness)

alex wears sam’s guitar pick as a necklace. i refuse to draw him without it

alex carries their band equipment when sam whines about being too lazy to do it

seb never gets scared during horror movies or any horror experiences. however samalex are gripping onto each other like they’re about to die

alex cannot bear to watch super violent graphic stuff for obvious reasons. sambastian will always skip those parts ahead in movies for him because they already know. not that he can’t do it himself, but it’s just a small gesture.

alex is a huge ‘i’m sorry, did i do something wrong? I’m really sorry. you can tell me if i did.’ kind of guy when the vibes are off. he just has a fear of being useless or annoying and needs to be reassured.

sam needs to be reassured that he doesn’t have to always take care of everyone or constantly be the emotional support beacon. he also needs some support and to take a break!!

sam just has his best friends memorized by heart. ‘you were gonna ask abbie to hang out..? bro, don’t you know? she’s gonna have a headache tomorrow.’

sam has a habit of biting at his lips, ‘my mouth gets bored!

samalex are insanely emotionally intelligent, compassionate and understanding even if they’re not all there. they’re more tender and sweet when it comes to someone opening up and just know exactly what to say and what they need to hear.

on sebs end, he’s pretty bad at reading people and understanding everyone even if he’s smarter than the other two are. he’s quick to get it but doesn’t know how to comfort people and is more of a chill ‘oh.. that sucks, dude. me too, anyways, wanna light a blunt and talk about it?’ kind of guy

^^ he’s only good at that stuff when it comes to understanding books/movies/music. that’s where it’s over for samalex (sam aside from the music part

“what are you watching?”

“a 6 hour commentary video about sonic.exe”

“adventure time!!”

“black mirror.”

“oh..”

(sam has a short attention span but locks in when it comes to commentary videos about random niche shit)

pre-t trans seb down here

alex to pre top surgery seb: “c’mere.. stress balls”

post top surgery seb to alex: “c’mere.. stress balls.”

sam just enjoys having his face stuffed in boobs. doesn’t care wether they’re pecs ‘boobs’ or regular boobs.

seb is confident in his gender pre t or not. he’s more of a ‘i genuinely believe and know i am a man’ than a ‘i want to be a man’

..as confident as he is and as much as he loves them, he feels a slight resentment to samalex because he just feels this hint of jealousy and insecurity around them. they’re just such big representations of masculinity. it makes him feel a little sick that he feels that way because he knows he should love and appreciate them for being patient, he just can’t help it. he will find himself comparing them to him.

sebastian randomly showed up at sam’s house on a random night when he was younger and came out to him before he asked for help cutting all of his hair off. he already had his emo shag but ended up keeping it 

seb has a hard time remembering to take his binder off.. though it makes him feel better in his skin, his ribs are about to explode.

cuddling and then a hand just reaches up and.. squeeze (seb doesn’t even question it)

this ones a bit of a shorter dump;p

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Hey peeps. I'm really sorry but I actually have bad news and not a Valentine's Day chapter for today. I got diagnosed with tendonitis and I need to rest my hand and not write too much. I'm currently also working on my Master's thesis and that has priority, for obvious reasons I think, and I'm having a really hard time not being able to write some more König stuff, because really that's all I want to do.

I mean, I have found some speech to text programs that work pretty well (I'm actually using it right now to type this out), but it still takes a lot more time and then I still need to proofread manually, so it will take until the weekend or next week to post some more.

I have some chapters already written out that I finished some time ago that might not fit the plot exactly, but will work as random scenes. So I might fall back on some of those for the time being.

I hope you understand and thanks for your patience! 

I actually wrote a little scene about it when my wrist first started hurting, so I'm just going to post this today (I also read through it again and the big guy is still my comfort character), maybe some of you can also use a little fluff with König today <3

kissing it better <3

(domestic fluff, hinted-at smut, mdni)

Monday at 8, I go to work after drinking my morning coffee with him and I return to his house again in the late afternoon, finding him and Mimi cuddling on the couch, the little ball of fur snuggling into his broad chest. Seeing them like that, squeezes my heart a little bit.

I hop onto his lap, Mimi meowing because now she isn’t the only one occupying this space anymore. We laugh and I can finally give him a kiss. He kisses me back, his arms wrapping around my waist and thighs.

Next to him on the end table, there are three new bottles of black nail polish. “They didn’t have the brand you normally use, so I just bought a few.”, he explains, smiling at me apologetically.

And this small gesture makes me melt a little. I picture him, the ridiculously tall, scary looking metalhead standing in the boutique in front of the shelf with all the tiny bottles of nailpolish – and then picking out three of the same colour because he didn’t know which one I would like.

“Thanks, even though that wasn’t necessary.”, I say, pressing a little ‘thank you’ kiss onto his nose. I reach for one of the bottles but pull back when a pang of pain shoots through my wrist.

His eyes widen, just a bit, his look fixed on the spot where I hold it against my chest, slowly massaging it. “What happened?”, he asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know, my wrist just hurts.” I sigh. “It started today at work and it just doesn’t go away.”

He catches my hand, pulling my wrist from my hold, and inspects the joint, softly moving it. He stretches it down gently, my small palm between his huge, tattooed fingers. “Does that hurt?”, he wants to know. I shake my head and he pulls it into the other direction. I hiss slightly, as the light sting of pain spreads, and he lets go immediately.

“I think, you may have overworked it a little bit.”, he mumbles, softly massaging the muscles and tendons around the wrist. Pushing his thumbs into the sensitive skin, until I sigh and relax a bit.

König pulls my wrist closer, up to his lips, pressing them onto the joint. Placing soft kisses where it hurts. Kissing it better. I can feel his warm breath coasting over my skin as he slowly makes his way to the inside of my wrist, still rubbing the spots that hurt lightly with his big strong fingers. His eyes snap up to mine, holding my gaze that is already on him.

His tongue darts out, licking over the pulse point, like he can’t help himself. The soft wet touch sends a pleasurable shiver down my spine. My mouth drops open just a little bit as he puts his over the sensitive spot and sucks, gently. A little moan escapes my lips, and I can see the heat in his eyes intensifying.

He pulls back, pressing another kiss to my wrist, lingering a little longer than he needs to. Still holding my gaze. “A little better?”, he asks, with a soft smile. His little kisses seem to be the best medicine, even though they are pure placebo.

“Yes, thank you.”, I say as I lean forward and give him a proper kiss on the lips.

“Just let it rest the next few days and it’ll get better, okay?”, he suggests then.

I nod, but I can’t help myself, as I add-on: “So, no handjobs?”, biting back a grin.

He shoots me a look that tells me to stop being such a brat, but the corners of his mouth turn up. “Exactly, that was my point, Fräulein.”, he answers sarcastically, patting my ass.

His demeanor changes again before he asks: “Are you hungry? I cooked some pasta.” He already kinda knows the answer to that (I can always eat, especially carbs) as he’s getting up, just lifting me up in one swift motion, only to set me down on the floor next to him.

“Starving actually, I didn’t really have lunch today.”, I sigh. “More exhausting clients instead.”

“We’ll get you something to eat and then you can tell me all about it. How does that sound, hm?”, he suggests. His arm snakes around my waist while he presses a little kiss on the top of my head.

“That sounds great.”, I tell him, a small smile on my face, as I take his hand – with the wrist that doesn’t hurt – and follow him to the kitchen.

Mimi gets up as well and tipples after us, her tail flicking up in the air, as she meows again like she wants to say ‘I’m hungry too!’.

~ more stuff in the Masterlist~

[caswensworld]

“The outfits in Descendants: The Rise of Red are so bad” “I hate them” what Descendants are y’all talking about?

We gonna start off with Uma. No, I’m sorry, Principal Uma! She looks so good! D2 vibes all around. Sure, there’s not as many sea trinkets as I’d like there to be but I can live with that. I missed her Pirate hat and her fringed skirt! The shredded shirt, I see you, Harry Hook inspired! I love the brown sleeves with glitter, that definitely reminds me of the sea. I just got black fingerless gloves but now after seeing her, I want gold…Great. I haven’t talked about her jacket cause there’s no discussion to be said. No defense to be made. Uma will always have that fashion!

Princess Red of Wonderland here is slaying! The designer understood the assignment! Red’s style is like a combination of Mal and Evie. The gown gives Evie’s royalty and the other gives Mal’s edge. Let’s start with the dress, I have always had a thing for corsets , I don’t know what it is, I just love them. Her arm warmers! Maybe it’s something on the arms, I just find it so sexy (y’all should’ve seen me swoon over Mal’s D3 moto sport fit). Why does her dress give more Queen of Hearts then the actual Queen of Hearts. And don’t act like we didn’t see that crown, Miss Ma’am.

Now the other picture, it may be dark but I saw everything I needed to. I think that’s a double belt she’s wearing and I love wearing more than one belt! The leather pants with the gems on the side, love that! Combat boots are my true love, but y’all. Y’all. The hood. THE HOOD! WITH THE GEMS!! OHHH! I need the character pictures to drop so I know what to gender-bend and thrift.

First off all, Hades always got it on but THIS! Hades is my spirit god! I am Hadie. I can see how he pulled Maleficent. This is my father, I dressed up as this specific Hades for Halloween. I love it when my gender wears makeup, I personally like painting my nails and wearing eyeliner so to see it on Hades, I’m very happy. I am a sucker for jewelry and that choker around the neck! I recently bought my own choker because of him! His leather jacket is everything! The studs! I haves stud fetish! I need the jacket but it’s just too expensive. Now the main thing we need to talk about is THAT SHIRT! OR SHIRTS! I fully believe these are two shirts safety pinned together! I think that the blue might be long sleeve while the gray is short! I got the safety pins so I find the right shirts, I will my customizing!

The Mistress of Evil, Maleficent always has that fashion chic. The complaints I do understand are from her horns and hair. We’re gonna start with her hair. People were expecting it to be people because Mal’s was purple. Y’all, you cannot expect me to believe Mal’s hair was an inherited trait, I did not believe for a second that Maleficent had purple hair. (Imma have to do a whole other post on that). Now the horns, I do believe that her horns are there and her hair is just long enough to be wrapped around her horns. (And if not, then we go all Dragon). Now let’s talk about the pros. THE PURPLE EYESHADOW!! I LOVE THAT! The leather corset, again, something about a corset! Why do I have the feeling that’s dragon leather? If that’s a thing, is that a thing? Now let’s talk about that single arm sleeve. Even as a teenager, Maleficent still looks regal! How many chains does Maleficent have? I love that. Ulyana is a mean girl, Maleficent is a BAD girl!

It’s not that she doesn’t look good, it’s just that it’s all red. I know that’s her main color, but she does also wears black with a little bit of gold. That’s pretty much my only complaint, she looks beautiful, I love how the dress looks like roses! The sleeves, I love translucent or mesh or whatever it’s called. The crown is crowning! Don’t get me started on that corset turned collar!! But I do understand why they made her all Red so she can contrast with Queen Cinderella!

I’m am rating this because the other one we saw is not a dress, that is a cape or cloak or something, I don’t know what it’s called. This dress is very beautiful, I have always preferred her blue over her silver but I do like how the designer added silver swirls. The jewelry is everything! The earrings, the necklace, THE SILVER CROWN! IT’S BEAUTIFUL! Brandy is royalty herself! I’m not sure if you guys can see it, but she does have these shiny translucent gloves and I like them. I don’t care what you people say, even if it’s a little random, her blue braid is absolutely beautiful! I absolutely love it!! The first black Cinderella then the first Cinderella with blue hair, Brandy is the literal definition of iconic. She is the history of Cinderella.

Emilio Sosa, the designer, is amazing and he deserves his roses and trophies

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Spicy plz I’m so bored ;-;— could you grace me with some headcanons for yandere America with an s/o who seems oblivious to his tendencies but is actually just. Pretty okay with it? Like they feel like this is the best they’re gonna get so they may as well make the most of it? Despite my casual tone I’m very okay with you ripping my heart out with angst or despair in any way you see fit <3

Probably not my best work but still hope you like it!

Okay warning ya'll this post is SPICY also it goes over abusive relationships so if that's not for you I suggest that you turn away now.

Your problems all began when you were let into the real world after college. It would be easy, they said. You just needed your degree, they said. Then it would be ‘smooth sailing’. 

Sure. SURE. That was a load of total bullshit. You now had to battle tooth and nail just to have the basic necessities barely. Your future looked bleak. ‘The Dream’ that originally you wanted to achieve: Get married, have two kids, have a house you owned, and maybe a fancy car that yu could show off and keep up with the Joneses. Best them even. 

You simply wanted more time with your family and friends, so you avoided applying to ghost jobs and attending interviews that ultimately led nowhere. You did freelance work like writing gigs, catering, and the occasional art commission in order to keep your head above the water. 

Some days were easy, but most were difficult. Keeping the tiny flame ignited within you to keep you going was a 24 hr 7-day 7-day-a-week kind of job. With each passing day, finding the will to exist was getting harder. 

‘Why do anything if I’m constantly feeling empty?’ 

You felt as though you were on a pitch-black road where your flashlight could only reach 2 ft in front of you. 

That was until Alfred burst into your life in the early morning sun rays that broke through the deep blue-black of the nighttime sky. His outward warmth brought the birds to life and made the flowers blossom. He was the bright person you needed to be around you. Even if that meant you tolerated his sinister tendencies that you commonly wrote off as him being an excellent protective boyfriend in a somewhat twisted way. 

Alfred always knows where you are. He ensures the Find My iPhone tracker is activated and shares your location with him at all times. When you first saw it, and he didn’t even bother to ask or even tell you that he did so… You simply ignored it. He was your boyfriend, and that’s what good boyfriends do…..protect their highly vulnerable S/O and part of that is knowing where you are at all times. 

Things don’t escalate if you’re incredibly passive and are compliant with the rules that Alfred sets for you. You will have a lack of privacy. He gets far more possessive if individuals (s) in your midst are suspicious or seem to be far too friendly for his liking. You become afraid of him when he raises his voice while interrogating you about one of your friends or acquaintances. Alfred’s fist will have made another gaping hole in the wall, which sometimes makes you fear for your life or your family. You would nearly jump out of your skin every time you came home & you saw his infamous frown combined with sapphire blues holding back famished flames, needy for more people to devour if they dared to come in between the two of you. 

Anyone who dared to challenge him on any of his behavior would be silenced swiftly. Most of the time, his victims would never be seen again; other times, they’d end up with some horrific injury or illness that prevented his targets from having the willpower to fight back or squeal. 

You always wondered why it had become much more difficult for you to maintain genuine friendships. You glossed over the fact that Alfred demanded 110% of your attention. This makes it hard for you to have a life outside of him. He also has enforced a curfew on you. 

‘He does that so some creep doesn’t try to kidnap me.’ That would be one of the excuses that you tell yourself in order to excuse his behavior. Besides, how long has it been since you were able to get a date before him? Two or three years, probably more, since so much time has passed since you’ve had a serious long-term relationship. You couldn’t really remember at this point. 

Whenever he objects to you leaving the house, 98% of the time, you employ some tactics when dealing with him. Negotiation. You primarily used this tactic when the effects of becoming stir-crazy have become unbearable. You feared that you would be swallowed up by his home and never seen again. 

“Alfred….” your eyes will search the hardwood floor for the perfect combination of words that will assist in getting you to some level of freedom. 

“I really want some fresh air….and…it’s been forever since we’ve had a cute date on in the park….or going to my favorite restaurant that is on the promenade….” Your eyes cautiously climb up to meet his. You braced yourself for the possible avalanche that was going to careen towards you if you didn’t plant your ice ax in neutral snow. 

“Where I first began to fall in love with you truly!” You blurted out with partially feigned fervor. Enough energy was behind your words that you could see Alfred’s shoulder relax. His freshly trimmed eyebrows were raised in curiosity and disbelief. However, he wasn’t entirely convinced yet. You needed to stroke his ego a little more. He needed reassurance that you were utterly smitten with him. His continued silence was a sign for you to continue with your argument. 

“I know when the last sun rays of the day hit your magnificent sky blues, I know that we were meant to be together.” It will feel like an eternity has passed before Alfred finally responds. 

“Alright, babe.” 

You hear him rise from his spot on the couch & make his way towards you. 

“We can go tonight, but you’ve got to get dressed in something better than that~” Alfred will have pinned you to the front door as he whispers in your ear his other demands he has for you. Usually, it’s that of a sexual nature. Alfred does have you do things like: have you wear a skimpy outfit while you iron his clothes, and give him head while he reads comics or plays video games. You’re not allowed to deny him anything that he asks of you when you work out a ‘deal’ with him. If you do you’ll have to do double of whatever it is along with being chained to the bed for a few days. 

Essentially dear reader you have Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless of what torture he puts you through, you wouldn’t want your life any other way. After all, it was Alfred who brought forth the morning sun in your life which felt as though you were cursed to be within a state of eternal midnight. 

Who were you to complain when he saved you from being on the streets whose jagged teeth had the flesh of the unfortunate on them but always eager for more.

So what if you were a little traumatized?

So what if you sometimes you had scars whenever you did something to set the sleeping volcano off?

It was better than being awash amidst the sea of people who merely became a number to add to a statistical data set. 

Alfred does weaponize sex a lot within your relationship. Not only is it a bargaining tool whenever you are desperate to meet your social needs as a human, but you use it to stop his occasional rampages, get some level of privacy (for example, showering by yourself or being able to keep a dairy without him snooping in it) 

Since Alfred is an exhibitionist & will never turn down an opportunity to showcase his power over you, he will have you do extreme things with him. He’ll demand that you have sex in public with him, like in the park, at a movie theatre, at Disney World on a dark ride, or even on the top of the roof of a government building. If it’s risky as hell with an epic story to tell, then Alfred will want to rail you there. Bonus: he will want you to be butt-naked in the car as well. Alfred will want you to feel every ounce of embarrassment, shame, & every emotion in between that makes you feel vulnerable and powerless. However, this punishment will only occur if you’re stupid enough to try and plan an escape away from him or say something that majorly punctures his ego. 

No matter how much he made you cry, made you bleed after sex, siphoned you off from your support system, and kept you firmly under his thumb… your low self-esteem told you that this was what you deserved. This was normal. This was how all couples behaved.

[anauro]

I’ve been going through my Google docs and found this alternative ending to ch20 of Drugs and surgical scrubs aka what would happen if Regulus didnt blurt out “the Barty and Rel thing”

“You know how sometimes friends decide to fuck up the friendship with sex?” Evan didn’t wait for an answer, before carrying on, “they say it’s just gonna be a one time thing, that it won’t change anything, but it actually does change pretty much everything. And then the other person expects things to get back to normal and I want it too, don’t get me wrong, I really do. But I can’t.” Evan looked at him pleadingly. “I can’t.”

Regulus felt anxiety weave its way into his brain. He set down his coffee and looked Evan in the eyes.

“What exactly are you telling me, Evan?”

In the peripheries of his vision, Regulus could see Evan’s nails digging into his palm. His breath hitched in his chest as Evan opened his mouth.

“Me and Barty slept together.”

Oh.

The air got knocked out of Regulus’ lung and his vision went black as Evan’s words settled in.

Evan and Barty slept together.

His two best friends. Straight. Fucked each other.

This better be a fucking joke.

But Evan didn’t look like he was joking. Instead, he mirrored Regulus’ terror, both of them staring at each other with pure fear.

Regulus cleared his throat. “Come again, sorry?”

“I slept with Barty.”

The pain that exploded in Regulus’ heart was overwhelming, each heartbeat spreading it further around his body.

“But…but you’re both straight,” he managed to squeak out.

“No, that’s the problem, Reg.” Evan reached forward and grabbed Regulus’ hand. Regulus allowed it, too shocked to protest. “I don’t think I’m straight and it scares the crap out of me,” he said in hushed voice. “I… you’ve known me since I was a little kid, so tell me. Am I different now? Does this change anything?”

Regulus wanted nothing more than to run away from here and be sick in some bathroom and then challenge Barty about this new development.

The pain in his chest was not easing off and Evan’s fingers around his hand felt like blades, seeping the poisonous venom into Regulus.

The same fingers held Barty’s hand. Touched him.

Regulus closed his eyes shut.

“Liking men isn’t a bad thing, Evan,” he forced the words out of his mouth. “It doesn’t change who you are. You were always like this, you just didn’t realise until now.”

“So I lived over twenty six years of my life without knowing? What other things am I hiding from myself then, huh? From you?”

Regulus shook his head, biting on his bottom lip. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Evan, least of all now. But when he opened his eyes and saw the desperate look on Evan’s face… Evan was still his friend. Even if Regulus hated him at that very moment.

“I’m gay, Evan.”

Surprised flickered through Evan’s face.

“You… what?”

“I’m gay, Evan,” Regulus repeated, wringling his hand free. “I’m gay and I always have been and there’s nothing wrong with me, so there’s nothing wrong with you either.”

Evan watched him, utterly astonished.

“Don’t give me this look, Ev,” Regulus sighed. “I didn’t tell you before, because it wasn’t relevant. You guys were doing your girls and I… I was hooking up with men all along.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Regulus scrunched up his nose. “What are you sorry for?”

“For making you feel like your sexuality wasn’t relevant. For not being enough of a good friend that you felt safe coming out to. For that… I’m sorry.”

Oh.

A warmer feeling started to spread through Regulus’ body, originating at the fingertips Evan held just a moment ago. It eased Regulus’ heartache, an aloe vera to his soul.

“It’s okay, Evan,” he said quietly. “It was me who didn’t want to come out to you guys rather than you doing anything.”

“Man, look at us,” Evan mused. “We could have been having awesome gay sex all throughout uni.”

Regulus swallowed down the bile that was coming up his throat.

“Yeah. We could have.”

He could have had Barty all along. For years, he could have had him.

If only he had said something.

“How did it happen?” The question was out of Regulus before he realised.

Evan gave him a confused look. “You mean me realizing I like women and men?”

“I mean you and Barty.” Even saying the words out loud burnt in Regulus’ throat. “How did it happen?”

“Oh.” Evan’s smile faltered. “It… just kind of did? I said I’ve been having thoughts about men and he offered and I agreed.”

“He offered?” Regulus all but choked out.

Was that how easy it was to get Barty all this time?

All he had to do was ask and Barty would offer?

[cheynovak]

The assistant - part 2(Alternative ending)

Reader x Soldier Boy 

Warnings:  Smut 18+, Fluff, Alcohol, unprotected sex. (Make sure your always protected!)  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words:  3184

This is the alternative ending for part 2

 – the first part of this story remains the same make sure you read the original second part to be up to date for this one.  

  

Second part of the story “The assistant” Soldier boy had just told Y/N that he didn’t want her to be his secret girl. But how are they going to deal with Crimson Countess (CC as Y/N calls her) and did he really mean everything he said? Y/N starts to doubt her relationship and Ben now that time had passed an nothing seems to change. Does he really love her?  

 

*note: the timeline may not always follow the boys timeline.* 

 

----------------------- 

Short recap: the assistant part 2  

More and more people started to gather in the hall. “I really thought that one day I would be the girl who gave you children or the one you loved enough to leave this shithole for.” Ben kept listening to her. He never told her he loved her because there was something that held him back, he hoped that giving her all those things would show her he loved her. He had no idea that it would seem that he bought her patience. Even now, when he felt this was his last chance to show her, he cramped up thinking, I’m no good for her, she deserves a man who says he loves her every day. “Sweetheart, I ... I’m sorry.” he said while stepping back giving her space. Y/N’s heart dropped “So that’s it? I’m sorry?” Ben didn’t even look at her anymore hoping she wouldn’t see his tears. Y/N looked around starting to feel suffocating, nauseous.  

--

That was all Y/N could take so she left, leaving Ben in the middle of the hall. She could hear him yell at the employees. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!”  

Y/N didn’t want to go home so instead she drove to her parent’s house. Luckly only her mom was home. “Honey what happened?” She asked while drying her hands on the towel. “I think, Ben and I broke up mom.” Y/N said trying to keep her tears from falling, clearly not working. “Oh sweety, come here.” Her mom pulled her in for a hug holding her down to her until they heard the door opening. Y/N’s dad walked in looking worried. After a long talk with some tea and tears Y/N explained how she felt to her parents. Her mom even offers her to stay in her old room for a couple of days just to get some rest. She accepted it just for that night but didn’t want to leave her apartment for too long.  

The next week Ben stood in front of Y/N’s office every day, considering knocking on her door or to leave her be. He didn’t know she took the rest of the week off. But today, before he could decide Gunpowder walked towards him. ”Sir? She isn’t at work today.” Ben looked down at him a little shamed he saw him. “She actually took the week off. I had an appointment with her, but she called the office to reschedule.” Gunpowder added. “Why did you want to see her? Complaining about me?” He huffed. “No Sir, I was worried, she had no clients anymore, no one trusted her, so I thought it would be good for her if someone took the first step.” He smiled and walked away. No one trusted her anymore Ben thought, she had to be heartbroken, she really took her job serious, loved it even.  

That night Y/N had agreed to meet her old friends, Sophia and Jenny for a drink at the local bar where they used to go. She did her best not to look like a washed up heartbroken drunk. She did her hair, nails and make up, chose a nice classic black dress not to short but short enough to show off her legs. Added some red heels that matched her lipstick and purse. Just because he isn’t seeing her doesn’t mean I have to walk around in trainers she thought to herself. Her friends were surprised to see her like that. “Damn Girl! Vought did you good!” Sophia said the minute Y/N walked in. It was like time stood still, booze floated, and old memories were shared. For the first time that week she actually felt good.  

Ben on the other hand felt horrible and alone in his bed. So, instead of wandering around he decided to talk to Y/N. But when he knocked on her apartment door no one answered. “Her parents.” he said under his breath.  

“Yes.” Her dad answered the door crossing his arms. “Y/N, is she here?” Ben asked trying to ignore Richard’s attitude. “No.” He closed the door. Ben tried again. Only this time her mom opened. ”I’m sorry Ben, you have to understand Richard, you hurt his little girl.” She said while taking a step outside. “I’m trying to make it up. I’m trying to...” He took a pause to choose his words carefully. “Do you have any idea where she is?- “She isn’t here. She is out with friends, but I doubt she wants to see you.” Ben nodded. “Mary, all I can do is try.” You mother placed her hand on his shoulder. “I hope you two work things out. The way you look at her, reminds me of the way Richard used to look at me.”  

“So, Y/N.” Sophia started. “Vought, Supes... Anyone striking your eye?“ She asked teasingly. Y/N sighs “Well, to be honest, we just broke up. But I wanted to keep it light today so, no breakup tragedies tonight.” - “Was it someone famous?” Jenny asked. “Kind of, I'll tell you all about it next time, tonight fun!” Y/N managed to say with a smile. “My turn to buy right?  

Y/N quickly got up to the bar, but the place was so busy the bartender didn’t saw her standing there. A not so bad looking guy lifted his hand above Y/N asking the bartender to take their order. “This lovely lady was first.” He said looking at Y/N. “awwh thanks!” she smiled softy. Not much later returning to their table. “He looked cute.” Jenny said while looking him up and down. “I guess... If you say so.”  

The guy saw that the girls were all looking at him. So, he took his shot and came to the table. A little small talk, some laughs and buying the girls more drinks, even though Y/N was the one who didn’t flirt with him, she was the one he liked and clearly tried to show off to. After hours of searching Ben saw Y/N standing at the table, in the last bar he wanted to search before giving up. She looked good he noticed. But instead of being extremely glad he found her, he got jealous, he noticed the guy with you, laying his hand on your shoulder, standing a little too close to her, even though every time he closed in space you stepped back, that’s my girl he thought, Ben decided to watch you for now. 

After a while your girlfriends went to the bathroom leaving you alone with him. He whispered something in Y/N’s ear while holding his hand on her lower back. Y/N wanted to take a step back when his face came way to close to her for her liking. But he held her. That was it, Ben stormed through the crowed “Hey Buddy, let the girl go.” he said while grabbing his shoulders “Dude, find yourself another chick!” The guy said without looking at Ben turning again towards Y/N. You friends came back, and Y/N had already taken a few steps away. “Ben? What are you doing here?” She was surprised. “Is that soldier boy?” Jenny asked Sophia just a little too loud, people around them stopped their conversation one by one.  

“I wanted to talk to you Y/N. So, I searched for you and a good thing I did.” Ben looked over his shoulder at the guy while he walked past him. Ben took her hands in his and looked her in the eye. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry for the way we ended things.”  

Sophie, jenny and pretty much everyone around you, who started to recognise Ben, were flabbergasted. “I think we need to talk.” Ben added. “Yeah, I guess we do. But not here.” Y/N said trying to stay firm walking passed him.” Outside, know!” The way she stands her ground made Ben so warm almost blush. Y/N made sure to walk around to the ally, Ben walked close behind her, his eyes lingered on her, taking in every inch of her body. Once out of side of the public eye Y/N turned around “What the hell Ben, have you been following me?” But instead of answering he pulled her in his arms. “I’ve missed you sweetheart.” It took Y/N a second to respond but eventually she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I missed you too.”  

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked muffed against his chest. He didn’t answer. “Ben?” He lifted her head up with his hand under her chin, she looked in his perfect green eyes and for the first time in forever she noticed he was crying. Without a word he pressed his lips against hers. Y/N knew this was where she belongs. Without hesitation answered his kiss pulling him closer by his neck. Ben’s hands moved down to her ribs holding her tight. It wasn’t a long kiss, neither was it sexually loaded, no but it was a kiss with passion and love. When their lips parted, they were both out of breath. Still holding each other, their heads touching. “Ben...” He hummed “Maybe it’s more comfortable to talk somewhere private? And warmer?” She asked letting go of a shiver. “What do you suggest?” Finally, she heard his strong yet fragile voice. “Why don’t you go to my apartment, I’ll finish up here, I need to talk to my friends before leaving. And we talk there?” She lifted her face to look at him. He kissed her again. “Don’t take long.”  

Y/N walked back to her friends. Who stood there, Sophia with her arms and mouth wide open. While Jenny almost jumped her. “Soldier Boy, really Y/N!” - “Yeah girl, he is kind of famous! Kind of my ass!” Y/N couldn’t help but blush. “Oh please, we are... I don’t know. Friend, I guess.” Sophia looked at you with an annoyed look ‘Y/N, your lipstick tells me otherwise.” Jenny pulled a little mirror out of her purse and gave it to Y/N. Her lipstick had been smudged, she quickly cleaned herself up with a small tissue from the table. “Where is he?” Jenny asked looking way to obvious behind Y/N. “We agreed to talk, in private there is way too much that need to be said. So, I agreed to meet him at my place.” She looked apologetic at her friend. “What are you waiting for? Go home!” Jenny slapped her thigh with the back of her hand.  

As Y/N walked through the hall she could see Ben’s tall strong body like shadow leaning against the wall looking at his feet. Arms folded over his chest. Even though it had been only a week since she touched him, her body reacted like an addict. The closer she got to him the more she felt the arousal in her body glowing. The second he saw her he stood up and flashed her a perfect little smile. So perfect she thought to herself.  She unlocked the door walked inside and left the door open for him to follow her. The second she heard Ben closing the door his pushed his back against it, moving her hands up his torso around his neck. He felt her fingers in his hair pulling him down, all while still locking eyes and moving very, very slow. She kissed him with a deep burning sensation, her tongue asking permission which he gladly granted. His hands held her hips firm against his body. She could feel that this wasn’t enough for her she needed more of him.  

When she started to undo his shirt, he stopped her. “Are you sure?” he asked with a deep and heated voice. “Is Soldier boy really asking if I want to have sex?” she teasingly answered, expecting him to smirk or grin. “No, but Ben wants you to be sure, before doing something that might hurt you mentally.” he whispered. Y/N smiled “There no better answer.” Their lips found each other again. Ben undressed her smooth, lifting her dress over her head only leaving her lips when doing so, he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. When he gracefully dropped her on the bed, he took off his own suit before covering her almost naked body with his. Her fingers glided over the muscles on his back and shoulders. Touching every inch of skin while his hand moved up from her knee over her thigh, pinching her hip while he kissed her neck. Y/N moaned his name.  

She was used to his roughness, but this, this was a passion she never knew he possessed. “I want you.” He whispered in her ear. “Then take me.” He lifted himself to look in her eyes. “I’m all yours.” She said. Ben started his trail of kisses down her body. Making sure every inch of it felt loved while his hands undid her bra, massage her breasts. Y/N’s back arched while she whimpered. Ben looked through his lashes at her while his hands had moved down to her panties. His fingers slipped under the silk material of it and pulled them down, while kissing her core. She could feel his breath against her clit, her hand moved down to his hair. Ben licked a long stroke over her slit. “Even sweeter than I remember.” He softly spoke before licking her again. He took his time. No one to bother them, no rush, just pleasure.  

“Ben... I need more.” She managed to say between breathes. “What do you need sweetheart?” He asked while lifting his body over hers again softly sucking her neck. Y/N wrapped her legs around his hip pulling him in. She could feel his erection against her tight. The unexpected movement from her made him moan in her ear. “Please.” She begged him. Ben moves back to remove the last piece of his clothing, lining him up against her overstimulated pussy, pushing slowly in. They both moaned once he fully bottomed out. Ben trusted hard, he quickly found a speed that wasn’t rushed but felt unbelievable good for her. Y/N kissed his neck and shoulders while encouraging him to keep going. Her hands found their way to his ass, her nails moved softy over them. Ben understood her and started to thrust a little harder but didn’t speed up.  

Y/N could feel her orgasm building and so did Ben, he felt her whole body shivering under his touch, “Let go sweetheart, I can feel it, let go.” He breather out. “I’m right behind you.” He felt her body reacting to it, watched as he pushed her over the edge. Ben’s thrust started to get out of rhythm. He kissed her passioned holding her tight, she felt his hips stutter while coming inside her. Moaning her name. The first minute Ben didn’t move. He looked at her, moved the piece of hair out of the way and smiled. “What?” Y/N asked completely out of breath. “I love you.” He blurred out still looking at her. “I love you.” He said again but this time a with a little more thought to it. Y/N couldn’t contain her smile. “I love you too.” He lowered his head on her chest, staying there a little longer before getting out to grab some tissues for her, he took care of her, his touch was soft, it felt intimate. He then got back in the bed on other side pulling her in against his chest. His chin lingering on her head her fingers drawing circles on his chest. Before you both fall asleep. 

Y/N woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon, she turned around to see her bed was empty but when she got up and walked into the kitchen she sees Ben, he was trying to prepare breakfast. She wrapped her arms around him kissing his naked shoulder “I could get used to this.” He chuckled “Well don’t. I already burned the toast twice and dropped an egg or two.” They both laughed at that. Y/N placed her cheek against his shoulder “Do I have time for a quick shower?” He looked over at her kissing her temple and hummed agreeingly.  

In the shower Y/N started to realise what happened last night. This wasn’t just sex, this wasn’t pure pleasure, for the first time they actually made love. And she truly believed him when he said he loved her. When she got out of the shower Ben had managed to prepare a semi decent breakfast. He held out her chair for her and put on some music in the background, the first minute it was quiet, neither of them knowing where to start. So, Y/N took the lead. “Ben... I know I said things that day that must have hurt you. And I want you to know that... I believe you and it was wrong to doubt you. I'm sorry.” Ben nodded letting the words sink in. “I know that I don’t have the track record of being the perfect... partner. But you changed me for the better. And I can see now how the past two years must have been for you. I never wanted to buy your patience. And as far as me showing how much I care for you... How much I love you...” Ben grabbed her hand. “I never had someone that made me feel the way you do and It’s hard for me to open up. But I’m trying sweetheart, you deserved to be told daily that you’re loved.” He smiled shyly.  

“So, what now?” Y/N asked. “I’ve been thinking last night while I waited for you, I would like to take a step forward.” He answered. “Meaning?” - “How about I move in with you. Vought will be work, this can be our safe place our home.” Y/N’s eyes glistered with joy. She got up walked around the table. Ben moved his chair back, you took a seat on his lap, arms around his neck. “For the record, I do want you to be the mother of my children. And then I’ll retire we move to the countryside.” He said placing his hand on your belly, he kissed your lips.  

“Alright, let’s do it.  

--

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

[wraithdance]

I need to work on something so here’s a far off snippet for stray dogs for Wip Wednesday

Cw: therapy speak, suicidal ideations, avoidant attachment traits

Dr. Hasan hesitates, “I’d like you to dig into that for me. You just said you feel uncomfortable that Johnny keeps trying. That’s something we can work with. What’s the emotion at the end of that?”

Your nails dig into the fleshy part of your palm. Dr. Hasan shifts in her armchair, openly staring. Waiting.

“Nothing. There is nothing at the end of that.”

You don’t think she tries very hard to cover up her exasperation with you. Her clear disappointment in your lack of answer and the line of questioning is making your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You’re trying not to fidget under her calculating stare but it’s hard not to keep your knee from jerking. She sees it.

“Try again.”

You frown.

“What?”

Dr. Hasan gestures to you with the hand holding her pen and cocks her head. “I said, try again. I don’t buy that you don’t know what’s making you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about to be honest,” you’re hissing through your teeth, “Do you want me to make something up?”

She flicks the fabric of her saree and makes a sound low in her chest that sounds like an exasperated chuff.

The effort it takes not to yell is surprisingly difficult, you can taste blood in your mouth where the fleshy side of your cheek is compressed against the vice of your molars.

You didn’t yell. You didn’t get upset.

She’s pushing something that makes you want to balk. Or worse. But your body is welded into the leather seat by a thin layer of sweat. You don’t have to see yourself reflected in her brown eyes or glasses to know the mask is slipping.

“I’m not your counselor.” She says after several terse seconds. “You’ve made it clear that you have no desire to be my client.”

“I don’t want-”

She interrupts.

“So there’s no need for you to lie to me. We can just sit here until you can answer the question until that,” she points to the analog clock behind her “clock marks it’s time for my badminton match at 5pm or…”

she doesn’t finish the sentence, purposely lets it crash and burn in the air.

“I don’t know and I don’t feel anything more than discomfort.” You press your nails harder into your palm.

“As much as you’d like me to believe you’re a sociopath, you’re not convincing me. Try again.”

“What?”

“Try again-”

you snap.

“I said I don’t fucking KNOW!”

You’re only slightly aware of your upturned chair and the frantic line your legs force you to march in slow jerky movements.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

You’re temporarily deaf over the loud pressure building in your eardrums like rhythmic claps. Dr. Hasan calls your name but it’s muffled.

The crack of Spirit’s neck under your grandfather's weathered hands brings the flood of sound back.

“I don’t know what I feel! I don’t know why he won’t just leave. I just need him to leave and he won’t go!”

You stop pacing when your vision goes black at the edges.

“He’s always fucking there when I turn around. He’s always talking and breathing and touching me just like-”

Your hands shake badly when you press them into your eyes until the blackness dances behind your eyelids. But the dull pain does nothing, there’s something wrong inside of you.

You turn tear soaked eyes to her when she doesn’t answer. “how do I make him stop?”

She doesn’t answer, she’s too calm in her chair, with her bangles and fucking fountain pen in hand. you feel like a wild animal. Your voice hitches and you’re begging.

“How do I make him go?”

“I can't tell you that.” She’s smiling sadly, you think she might actually feel for you.

You’re going to be sick.

She calls for you again softly, just enough to hear her voice over the chasm.

“What happens if he stays?” Dr. Hasan scoots forward into her chair, her hands out like she’s scared you’re going to fall off a bridge and not in her office that smells like anise and cloves.

Like she’s got the strength to catch you if you do.

“What happens if Johnny or Duckie, or even Simon-” she ignores your glare, hands turned out in surrender, “what happens if they stay? That’s the problem right? That they want to stay?”

You don’t answer her. After a minute she chuckles to herself. It’s low and makes your hackles raise.

“Fine, then let me ask you this, who didn’t stay?”

There’s ice in your veins now and it claws up your neck like frostbitten ivy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Who didn’t stay that you’re willing to keep showing up to my office, pretending like you’re not killing yourself?”

You don’t think it surprises either of you when you pick up your bag and leave. It doesn’t stop her from calling out behind your back when you shoulder the door open violently.

“Who is it that won’t let you believe that those people love you and they want you to let them stay?”

You tell her to go fuck herself.