#its just so sweet and amazing and i love ao3 for letting this be possible

[trulybetty]

october | 02 x apple scent

pairing: frankie x reader word count: 1,001 warnings: apples, meet-cutes, benny miller & as always unbeta'd summary: you and Frankie meet for the first time. ao3: linked

{ x. series masterlist }

author note: prompts are not in chronological order, the story is told throughout the life span of the relationship. once all are posted, I'll post a list of the prompts in chronological order.

02 x Apple Scent.

The smell of sticky toffee blended seamlessly with the scent of freshly picked apples, not too out of place given that it was an apple festival you’d been dragged to by Jess after work after being given little to no choice in the decision.

“You’ve got to try the apple pie! It’s to die for!” she’d exclaimed dragging you along the cobbled street. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a warm glow that matched the colours of the falling leaves. You tucked your hands deeper into your coat pockets, the crisp autumn air nipped at your cheeks. 

“Remind me again why I’m here?” you asked, sidestepping a couple trying to share a caramel apple.

She shot you a sly grin, “Because you love me and want to offer moral support.”

“Translation: you need a wing woman in case things go south.”

“Details, details,” she laughed nudging you playfully with her elbow, “Besides, Benny’s bringing a friend. Maybe he’s cute!” she exclaimed, the excitement on her face as the realization of the possible meet-cute this could be evident all on her face.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile as she practically bounced beside you now, “You owe me!”

As you approached the source of the baked apple scent that had lulled you through the crowds. The pie stand, its booth in the shape of a glossy red apple, and its sweet aroma now only intensified its efforts in making your mouth water. Jess purchased two slices, handing one to you, “See? Worth it already,” she said taking a bite.

You took a tentative taste, letting out a groan as the warm apple filling melted on your tongue, “Okay, I’ll admit it, this is amazing.”

“With that kind of endorsement, I might have to try a slice for myself,” came a voice from behind Jess. You looked up from your paper plate to see Jess enveloped in a hug by a tall, blonde man with a charming grin, “I’m Benny,” he said settling Jess back on her feet, his blue eyes twinkling as he reached out his hand to you. 

You shook his hand, amused by his enthusiasm as you told him your name, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“This here,” he said, gesturing to the man stepping up beside him, “is my buddy, Frankie. Frankie say hi!” 

Frankie offered a small smile, his dark eyes warm beneath the worn baseball cap he wore. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious and not entirely sure why.

Jess and Benny quickly fell into animated conversation, leaving you and Frankie following behind.

“So, enjoying the festival?” you asked in an attempt to break the silence.

“Not too bad for a festival themed solely on apples,” he laughed softly, the sound causing a flutter in your chest. “It’s my first time here.”

“Same,” you admitted, “Jess insisted that I had to experience it.”

He gave you a smile, “Benny can be persuasive too.”

An awkward pause settled between you.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “what do you do?” you ventured, sure Jess had mentioned something about Benny's work but struggling to remember exactly what it was.

He hesitated. “Military.”

“Really? What branch?”

“Army,” he said simply.

You nodded, “What do you do in the Army?” you asked, trying to prolong the conversation in the hope of staving off further awkwardness of the situation you both found yourselves in. 

“Nothing too exciting,” he shrugged. “Just logistics.”

Before you could ask more, Benny turned around having overheard your conversation. “Don't let him fool you! There's not a plane or automobile this man here cannot operate.”

Frankie shot him a look. “Benny…”

“What? It's true!” Benny grinned mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So you're a pilot?”

Frankie rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I fly sometimes.”

“He's being modest,” Benny continued. “Best pilot in the unit. Saved our asses more times than I can count.”

Frankie sighed but couldn't hide a small smile. “Benny likes to exaggerate too.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty impressive regardless,” you said genuinely.

“Thanks,” he replied, meeting your gaze briefly before looking away.

The rest of the evening passed in easy conversation between the four of you, and soon enough, you found yourself mentally thanking Jess for this unexpected outing. Benny’s laugh was infectious and had a knack for leading the conversation. Most of which concerned outings involving Frankie and the rest of their unit. Despite some of Frankie’s attempts to downplay his part in some of these antics you could tell he enjoyed it—or was at least tolerating it with good humour.

The evening ended with Benny insisting on walking both of you back to your car having picked up Jess on your way out from work. Once you reached your car parked under one of the scattered blossoms lining the street, it was time for goodbyes. Benny enveloped Jess in a warm hug first, whispering something that made her giggle into his ear. 

The drive home was filled with Jess’ excitement about Benny and the date the two of them had already planned. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she turned in her seat to look at you, “You two looked so cute together!” she gushed, “Did you give Frankie your number?”

You opened your mouth to respond then realised as you turned onto Jess’ street that you hadn’t. Neither had Frankie given you his. Disappointment awash Jess was sympathetic but optimistic as she spoke to you through the passenger window after you’d dropped her off, “Who knows, it’s obvious you two hit it off.”

You were in the office two days later, your eyes glossed over from dry corporate documents needing your stamp of approval when your phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, and thankful for the distraction, you unlocked your phone to read:

‘Hope this is okay, but I asked Benny to get me your number.’

Followed by a second message soon after.

‘It’s Frankie by the way.’

[redriotinggg]

Straw Hats reunion on Sabaody except SanUso are a couple and Sanji came back as a transwoman (shoutout Iva!). [read on ao3]

Usopp sees Sanji and his heart stops beating. He had imagined a million ways their reunion might go, and this was one of them, but he never thought it would ever become a reality. It's Sanji, beautiful as ever. The same but so different. Usopp looks at Sanji and is mesmerized by her shiny, long blonde hair as it cascades over her shoulders. He's enchanted by her artful makeup and the way her goatee has filled out, now complimented by some hair on her upper lip. Those lips, so full and tinted with a rouge gloss that stains the cigarette clenched between her teeth. She's got on a suit just like usual and her legs are long like usual but now she's got curvy hips and--Usopp chokes--boobs!! Sanji is so beautiful and looks so happy and Usopp cannot contain his joy or lust upon seeing her exist as her true self.

Speaking of lust, Sanji absolutely loses it when she sees Usopp. She's overwhelmed by the way Usopp is looking at her. She hadn't expected disgust from her boyfriend because he is sunshine incarnate and knew she was trans before she'd admit it to herself. But to have him look at her with such obvious pride drives her crazy. If that wasn't enough, she has to deal with the fact that the past two years have been extremely kind to Usopp. Her boyfriend is fucking hot now. He was adorable before, but now he is sexy, with his biceps and pecs and abs and back and smile and confidence and-

Sanji wakes up with a groan, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Warmth floods her chest at the sound of a familiar chuckle.

"Well, nice to see you, too."

Sanji realizes she's now lying down on the grassy deck of the Sunny. She groans again, realizing that she probably passed out--possibly from blood loss. Someone has got their arms around her, holding her up. Not just anyone. It's the object of her affection and the reason for her current state.

Sanji closes her eyes, squeezing them tight. Her body shakes as Usopp laughs.

"Oh, not so nice to see me after all?"

"More like it's too nice. If I look at you I'll definitely pass out again," Sanji admits. A moment later, she takes a chance to peek anyway. She gets an eyeful of Usopp's thick, muscled chest and shuts them again. Nope, nope! She can't handle it. She rests her head on that chest, relishing the way her whole body moves with his as he laughs again. Her wraps his arms around her and she feels safe.

"Nice to know that that part of you hasn't changed," Usopp teases. The softness of his voice as he utters his next words has Sanji's heart beating wildly in her chest. "But so much of you has changed. And I'd love to see it. Will you let me?"

"You can look at me if my eyes are closed," Sanji tries to argue.

"Yeah, but it's not the same. Please, Sanji? For me? I've waited two long years to be with you again."

Damn it all. Damn, Usopp and his sweet words. Damn, Sanji for being so weak for Usopp and double damn the sniper for being unshamed to use that fact to his advantage. Sanji loves him so much.

Using all of her courage and finding all of her self-control, Sanji opens her eyes and finds Usopp's.

Usopp's eyes have the same joyful, curious sparkle they always have and Sanji blushes as they look at her with wonder and amazement. Usopp runs his hand over her hair oh-so-gently, appreciating its feel and length. Sanji still has half of her face hidden, but now, her long bangs fall over her right eye. She is perfect in every way and Usopp doesn't know what to do with all the love pent up to bursting from inside him.

He also doesn't know what to do about the embarrassment that fills him as Sanji sits up and gazes at him just as intently. Her hands run over all the muscles he worked hard to obtain during their time away. She twirls her fingers through his long, curly hair and brushes them over his soul patch. She smiles at him and he can do nothing but smile back.

"You're so beautiful," the lovers say in unison. They laugh together, and unable to wait any longer, they finally seal their reunion with a kiss.

"Get a room!" Zoro and Nami yell from the sidelines. The navigator scoffs and the swordsman rolls his eye when they're met with two middle fingers courtesy of the couple still engaged in a lip lock.

They'll let it slide this time. It's a celebration, after all.

[evidenceof]

Hiya!!

Secret Santa here (again lol)! 🎅

Link some of your favourite fics and writers! Let me gauge your vibe!

Also, please link your personal favourite of things YOU have written

(I’m very social and unfortunately very eager, so you may get quite a few of these little messages! Answer at your leisure!!)

hello again!! thank you for being both very social and eager (i too am, if forced) <3 answers to this below the cut! they... will be long :D :D sorry :'D

i have several fic recs under this tag, and all of them i genuinely love to bits and reread like i'm being paid to do that. this might be a mishmash of categories but... it is what it is. :')

character studies

amazing real adventure stories, vol. 46 by @sea-changed - an insanely compelling gen fic of joe liebgott that never leaves my mind. grounded in historical context that makes every bit of it sing as much as the characterization. cannot recommend this fic enough. i think about it at night while staring at my ceiling. it's just so good.

kräftig, nicht zu schnell by @ep6bastogne - this is a webgott but i'm putting it under this category bc of how well they're able to flesh out how both lieb and web mirror each other but also just how different they are. GODDDD i loved this one so much. so much sunlight fighting its way through punched out holes.

Like Goddamn Men by annakovsky on ao3 - listen. this is fully damian lewis|dick winters / ron livingston|lewis nixon rpf and i did not think i'd be into it but it's such an incredible way of bringing to life the psychic damage that was bootcamp and the spillover of it into the individual personalities of the actors and also the vets. incredible stuff from 2008. she wrote one thing for band of brothers and it was this, and we all cheered.

debilitating yearning and/or sweetness

Before the World Begins by rilla on ao3 - another winnix fic. that takes place pre-war and is a bit of an au in the sense that they don't meet at ocs but before it. it's so tender and it has all that confusion and fondness that i love so, so much about winnix. (mind the tags!)

lippenstift by @ww2yaoi - this is like, if you poured and mixed the highest concentrate of frustration and wanting and injected into both lieb and web and let it play out in the briefest of moments. love how much of it is communicated by where lieb is looking.

stacker by plutoandpersephone on ao3 - a bit of a wild card bc this is a the terror fic for their 2024 bangmas. it's 469 words of just GREAT stuff. so impressive to me how they were able to condense that much desire and character.

And at Your Touch, I Burn by Muccamukk - whump!dick winter in a sick fic discussing kentucky manuevers. i love the descriptions of the exercise (i just really love it when a fic is pinned down into the historical context in one way shape or form). also any time dick hallucinates nix's voice is a Great time for me.

Maybe I'm a fool, but it's fun by @babe-heffron - luztoye and kicked me out of my "not reading fic" rut by getting me to stay up to read all 80k words of it in the shortest time possible. tenderness is there, and it slaps you across the face with a whiplash of yearning. her incorporating paratrooper dynamics w/ the rest of the army really, really did it for me too. (as per my preference, incredible character studies too — especially when exploring luz outside of the class clown persona)

fix-its and outsider povs

Peaches by @tahnawanda - this had me breaking into cold sweat bc i /ran to the leckie/runner tag wanting so, SO much more of this dynamic and post-war goodness. great exploration of stasis after the war. (i kinda.. really love stasis after the war). and that tug of war between pain and familiarity in a supposed brother-in-arms, wondering if you can live with the presence of war in the form of them, but realizing that at the end of the day you just want to be with them.

Transcript by @gorgeousundertow - one of my first experiences with outsider pov and GOD another one that i think about constantly. i love seeing people explore company dynamics, and this fic is such an incredibly fun and thoughtful way of exploring winnix while effectively characterizing so many of the easy company men. so good, so, so good. i re-read this at least twice a month.

Chin Music by @thrillingdetectivetales - in the same vein as Transcript where i loved reading pitch perfect characterizations of easy company men /gossiping about winnix. eeee <3 hahaha it flows so well and the dialogue just feels so natural, i can easily imagine slotting it into the series. great outsider pov

----

my writing

Chicago Tribune, 6 June ‘44, Crossword Puzzle, 10-Down - i loved writing this because i really wanted to explore zielinski's world (with or without the background winnix) even within a short word count. aaaand i just had a great time going through 40s crossword puzzles. i also just really love it when mundanity hits.

Make Do and Mend - window shopping for winnix. no but seriously, the tidbit about dick having a hard time getting himself to buy a suit once he was home just struck a nerve with me and i wanted to explore it. that and his inability to see himself as worthy of space if he's unable to live up to a function.

these two kiss prompts! [scrunch] [blush] fun to write and short and sweet. <3

---

that's it!!!!!!! i went into length about these sorry but i really do love these fics and their authors very much!! i feel very strongly about all of them!!!!! <3

[lamialamia]

hai!!! are there any sledgefu fanfics or writers u could rec to me?

Anon I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this. I was swamped with exams and deadlines and traveling. But gosh. I GOT CHU. I got recs!!!

This got insanely long so I'm putting a read more

Fanfic - Canon-verse (no AU)

Sleep Aid by someonesgrlbomb. Gosh. Okay. We all know the weird, fucked up bond between Sledge and Snafu is so interesting. They are traumatized young men who are wrestling with their humanity in hellish conditions. And this fic is one amazing look into this bond.

C’est ta main dans ma main doucement oubliée. by ijustlookatpictures. This one is heartbreaking. Not healthy in the slightest. But if you want to be devastated, this fic is for you.

I do my best because I'm counting on you counting on me by ijustlookatpictures. A groundhog day AU set in the war so I still put it here. I love this fic for its Snafu's voice. Trust me, Snafu is a tough character to write for because he is a layered bastard who has so much going for him. I re-read this fic like once every few months.

As It Was by SJtrinity. Possibly one of the best post-war fics for sledgefu out there. This fic might be formatted a little weird on Ao3 but trust me, it's worth it. Sledge and Snafu's road to a happy endings isn't easy or simple and this fic makes them earn their happy endings (even after surviving a war). READ THIS FIC PLEASE. I'M ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU.

i’m the diode, you’re the kerosene by getmean. This imo is one of the required reading sledgefu fics. I mean, I would say that about any of getmean's fic but yeah. Realistic about PTSD but so perfectly balance with the slow-burn romance we all crave. Simply magnificent.

an angel like a memory by starblessed. Another incredible fic that nailed Snafu's voice.

gone but not entirely by marinersapptcomplex. Angst for the ages. Sledgefu is treasure trove of angst and in the right hand, it would fuck you up. Because this fic fucked me up. It's so good and deserve thousand of kudos.

The Boy and the Magpie by harin91. Oh this is a special sledgefu fic. It moved me to tears. It showed but never told. It got me craving for all the pretty jewels and lost loves and fairy-tale dreamings one could possibly have. If I think about this fic too much I might lost it.

Come Take Me Home Again by ThrillingDetectiveTales. Ehehhe, very sexy and very cute and made me giggle every time I re-read this.

Let Me Know The Way by bearkare. Epistolary story telling is no small task to pull off. Something which was done here so good it felt like I actually get to step into the characters' heads and dive into their inner turmoil. Another fic that takes the slow road to Sledgefu's happy ending. Love every word of this.

a collection of fragmented thoughts that were never written and never sent by canimo. Underrated. So fucking underrated. All the angst, and well, sledgefu have a tendency in many fic to not end happily at all. They are after all two very different people and with everything that happened, no matter how much love they might share, it isn't easy.

I Was Fixed on Your Hand of Gold by Cinderscream. Another epistolary fic that amazed me with the ease of how they manage to make story unfold within the limited confinement of letter writing. Love this one to bits.

friends who share your past by kinnoth. Once in a while, you had to let your OTP be toxic and unhealthy and unable to communicate and lead them to their downfall. Yeah.

fill in the holes you've made by foreignconstellations. Relationships are complicated. This one managed to capture that in just 2.5k words, which I absolutely can not comprehend.

Sweet Water, Wash Me Down by modernature. Atmospheric and very gripping. Amazing world building where the world felt alive and wriggling and squirming in the best possible way.

Leave your baggage here by malmanagement. Sometimes, we needed a groundhog day AU to make stubborn idiots understands.

Fanfic - AU:

got a fire but you just can't use it by getmean. I binged this instead of sleeping. Worth it.

catch it down in new orleans by starblessed. This is one of my comfort fics of all time. It's so funny and so charming. Never failed to lift me out of a bad mood.

Unknown Number by harin91. In which our favorite idiots tried long distance and it is endlessly entertaining.

lest we fall into the dark by gingerwerk. Oh everything about this AU is incredible. The slowburn is so good I wish I can lost my memory to read this again completely fresh.

Oh! Darling by Anonymous. I waited years for this fic to finally finish. I screamed when I saw the final update. Sexy and lovely. Can not recommend this fic enough.

Author:

getmean. Well you can't mention sledgefu without this author. No matter what their fics deliver. I aspire to write as good as them one day.

SJtrinity. I don't know what to say about this author because... my english could never measure my awe and love for their works

starblessed. You saw how many times I rec their fics? Yeah. Read everything this author write please.

Stolperzunge. I love them and their works. I could write a love letter here but I don't wanna be cringe.

bearkare. ANything written by this author made me feral <3 <3 <3

Honorable mention: eugeneshelton whose sledgefu fics gave me diabetes, and endlessly inspire me with his sledgefu ideas :*

[dawn-moths]

I just recently read your fic bout Itto and I was so amazed by your vast imagination in writing. I could never 😭 Plus I really really love Itto so much 🥺💞 Would it be possible to write a same Itto x reader wherein he totally lost control of his animalistic side? But s/o liked it in the end tho XD (Gahd, blame my immoral kinks) Also his s/o giving him a head. (Again, blame my weird fantasies lmaooo.)

If you're not comfortable with it, please ignore this. Still thank you! I'm amazed by how good you are in writing 🌻💓

Well, anon, I certainly didn’t think my first fic of the new year would be something this… intense 😅 But I’m happy to write your request nonetheless. Also thank you so much for your nice words on my previous Itto fic. I plan on writing a part two to that one in the future :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy~!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“It Feels Better Biting Down”

Itto Arataki x Female Reader

word count: 3600+

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! this is just full on smut no plot not gonna lie, dubcon, rough sex, reader is called “little one” and “good girl”, biting, manhandling, oral (mutual), blood, hair pulling, choking, aftercare, title taken from “Biting Down” by Lorde, hope i did well by you anon lol.

*ao3 mirror*

***

It comes on quickly, too sudden to change the course of the storm before you already find yourself swirling within the eye, the worst still yet to come.

The way he morphs from being his usual jovial, goofy self one minute into a dangerous, feral monster the next.

Sometimes all it takes is a taste, a scent, a single look, and something about you has Itto forgetting any and all of his learned humanity.

The amber of his eyes dilates from a thin ring around blown out pupils, his gaze overflowing with adoration for you, to all that gold swallowing up his affection, a predator honing in on its prey with a vicious kind of focus.

The moment his grip flexes harder on your hips, tugging you closer, his jaw clenching, you know it’s too late. You could try and get away, put up a fight, as feeble as you know such an attempt would be, but testing that theory in the past only earned you deeper scratches, darker bruises, and a worse aching between your thighs when all was said and done.

So instead, you sit there, trying not to wince as you swallow down the dry lump forming in your throat. The first few times you experienced this, it felt like it was choking you, but Itto taught you soon enough what it really was to suffocate with his two large hands wrapped around your pretty neck.

He holds you close, not in a way to comfort you, but to keep you. Control you.

Your eyes widen with nervous anticipation, a shuddering breath exhaled through your nose as you see Itto’s nostrils flare. He used to joke about being able to smell your fear, the sweet scent getting him drunk the more you squirmed and struggled. Now you think he’d been telling the truth all along, the sharp points of his fangs glinting as one corner of his mouth pulls up into a wider smirk, mean and selfish and hungry.

Yet still, you attempt to bargain. “Itto…” you begin, slow and stern yet with a little tremble of trepidation etched in your tone. “Why don’t we just—” But the rest of the suggestion never comes. It’s sliced in two as a sharp gasp cuts through your words, your back meeting the ground as Itto grabs both your wrists and pins you down, squeezing them until you let out a squeak of pain and start to writhe.

His mouth fills with saliva, sticky and warm with the promise of how delectable the salt of your skin will taste once he latches onto you, how hot your blood will run once his incisors pierce your shoulder and let crimson burst into his mouth.

“Hurts— Itto—!” You weakly try to plead with him, his fists curling tighter around your wrists, pulling your hands up above your head until he can take both your wrists in one of his massive palms, grinding your bones together and drinking in every whimper and whine that spills from your quivering lips as he forces his mouth against yours, his tongue savoring the flavor of you, wanting more, more, more like even if he consumed all of you it could never be enough.

And you bite his lip.

Hard.

Hard enough to draw some of his blood. It’s only a fair trade. Only, none of this is ever really fair, because Itto’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger, able to effortlessly dominate you even in his gentlest and most grounded state. But you continue to allow yourself to count the taste of iron on your tongue as a victory, as it’s probably the only one you’ll be able to claim during this whole ordeal.

And the oni actually laughs when he pulls away to see the dark red of his blood spotting the corner of your mouth, but it’s not a sound of amusement or joy. It’s the low, dark rumbling of a vengeful growl, a vow that he’ll get you back for that.

“Little one wants to play, huh?” he teases with a sinister rasp, flipping you over so that your chest is pressing into the patch of grass he’s pinned you down on, painfully twisting one of your arms behind your back while the other stays shackled against the dirt in his clawed fist. “Fine—” He hooks a talon in one strap of your tank top, gathering the other thin strip of fabric under the same nail and pulling back hard, ripping your shirt and fully exposing your shoulders and clavicles to him, hinting at what he’s planning next. “Let’s play.”

Itto licks his lips, takes in the sight of you like this, completely and unquestionably at his mercy. You feel the hand that had been twisting your arm ball up in the waistband of your shorts then, tugging them down with the sound of tearing threads until they’re tangled up around your knees, being kicked off to your ankles and then abandoned completely.

His teeth always come as a surprise, no matter how many times you feel the shape of his bite imprinted on you, moulding themselves into your skin as if to terraform your body with his molars and incisors, scraping along your pulse to carve out new trails and excavate those sweet, helpless little sounds from deep within the unexplored caverns of your chest.

You might’ve thought the initial sting would be less by now, become dulled the more times you felt it, but it never does. Not quite. And the moment just before he applies enough pressure to break the skin, your eyes well with tears, all your muscles tensing in tandem with the urge to outlast this torment, to prove you can take it.

Because you can.

You can and you will.

As blood trickles down the curve of your shoulder and spots the damp earth beneath you, you hold back a scream, choking on it as you feel it thrash around wildly behind your clenched teeth. Itto laps up your blood, nursing the wound newly created only to gift you with a fresh one minutes later, this time on the other side over the meaty spot right between your shoulder and your neck.

That time, the ghosts of a shriek slip past your lips, the pain sounding like the curling tendrils of fading smoke, elusive and never the same twice. You feel Itto smirk against you before removing his mouth, a few viscous strands of his saliva keeping the two of you connected for a moment before they snap, mixing in with your blood and making you hiss.

More of your tears fall, meeting under your chin in thick droplets that conjoin into one bead that races down the raise of your throat, one of Itto’s palms guiding to lift your chin, craning your neck back as the other hand begins to spread you wider for him, collecting your arousal on his taloned fingertips and spreading it through your folds, pleased with how wet you are for him already.

“Itto— Please—” you can barley utter, your voice a mere whisper as the strain on your vocal chords worsens, his grip curling a little tighter until you’re only able to draw in frantic, panting breaths, feeling like it wouldn’t take much more to turn your vision black and numb the rest of your senses for a little while.

But Itto’s become accustomed to this routine as well, the small sliver of him that remains in control during these animalistic impulses knowing how to read you to ensure that you actually do want this to some degree. And if the desperate pulsing of your needy little hole isn’t the perfect indicator of your mutual craving of him, then it’s the pounding of your heart he can feel against his wrist in your lower stomach as he reaches around to tease you from a new angle, reveling in the way your belly tightens and lurches as he toys with your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles over you relentlessly until your eyes roll back and your jaw goes slack, your own breed of feral moan clawing its way out of you.

“That’s it…” he seems to coo at you, though with a sharp-edged kind of praise, like a shard of broken glass learning how easily it can cut through a sheet, wanting to test its limits until it becomes dulled and the flowing fabric had been reduced to ribbons and shreds. “So good for me— Fuck—!”

He slips a finger into you, feels how your body sucks him in like the first breath of air after breaking through the surface of deep water, relieved but greedy for more. So he slips in a second and you keen, back arching as his thumb continues to nudge at your clit, overstimulating you until your vision spots with bursts of violent vibrance, flashes of gold forming fissures and cracks in your mind, little pathways that always lead you back to him.

You’re about to spill over the edge and he can tell, but then he’s withdrawing his fingers and turning you back to face him, causing a whine of frustrated protest to sneak through your veil of satiated exhaustion as the coil in your core that had been so close to snapping slowly starts to relax.

You want to argue that it’s unfair, that the agreement the two of you made for when situations like this arise is that, so long as Itto pleasures you, he can be as rough as he wants. But the moment you look down and see the intimidating bulge in his pants, you know what he wants. And you’ll give it to him, for a price.

“Are you coherent enough to remember the deal?” you nearly spit at him, face furrowed with what might’ve been fury— a challenging dagger of a glare— if not for the masochistic undertones your desperate little doe-eyes were implying.

Itto nods, though the vacancy in his stare tells you he doesn’t care to honor it, that he hadn’t even been listening in the first place, so when he gets close enough, you comb your fingers into his mane of shaggy white hair, form a fist, and give a sharp tug.

“Then say it to me,” you order, a small groan of pleasure stuttering past the oni’s lips as your grip remains unrelenting.

Itto cracks another one of those sharp-toothed smirks, his eyes shimmering with mirth for a moment before remembering that he was the one in control. He pulls you on top of him as he leans back, you already beginning to unbuckle his belt as he answers with only a hint of sarcasm, “I’ll do yours if you do mine.”

As his aching cock springs free, already dripping with that pearly pre-cum, more leaking from the blushing tip as you take it in your hand, you say with a sharp, warning tone, “Don’t forget it.”

And, while you always looked forward to the magic Itto could work with his mouth over and inside of you, the deep, rumbling groans and stifled, high-pitched whines you were able to draw from him as your lips wrapped around his tip, tongue teasing along each vein and curve of him as you worked further down his shaft, new tears wetting your lashes as he hit the back of your throat and made it hard— if not damn near impossible— to breathe, well…

Those sounds were more than enough to keep you going.

Now it was his turn to take a fistfull of your hair and tug, needing something— anything— to tether himself to as your warm, wet mouth and tightly constricting throat washed wave after wave of pleasure through the shores of his body. He was so lost in the lust-fueled haze that he nearly forgot that he liked it best to be inside that tight little cunt of yours when he came. Not that he would’ve minded watching you wince and struggle to swallow the bitter ropes of his thick, white seed, but he knew that, if this were to be allowed to continue he needed to make sure you felt good too.

“F-fuck…” Itto stuttered through a sigh, unsure whether the fist balled up in your hair was trying to pull you away or force you to take him deeper, his cock twitching as you choked on him, your eyes beginning to flutter and roll from the lack of oxygen. “Alright, alright, alright—” he stammered, finally gaining enough willpower to pull you off of him lest he finish before he could start his real work on you. “Fuck… You’re too good at that…”

For a second, it was almost as if that blinding ferocity had melted away, even the most jagged of rocks worn down smooth when placed in the path of a river for long enough. But then the softness of his placated desire seemed to return to itself, all that raw power and fanged instinct flooding back into him as the dam broke and the smooth rock of reprieve was completely washed away.

Itto pinned you back to the ground with a force hard enough to rattle your bones, stirring fear back into your bloodstream and injecting it into your marrow as he slid you closer to him, fingertips digging into the plush meat of your thighs, hooking one of your knees over his shoulder before pushing the other closer to meet your chest, splitting you open wider for him like he would a ripe pomegranate with his bare hands, eager to lap up the sweet, tangy juices that burst from the ruby fruit.

But he makes good on his promise, on your deal, and that’s all that really matters, right?

How’d he put it? I’ll do yours if you do mine. Yeah, that sounded about right.

“Fuck— Itto—!” you moaned through a shuddering gasp as his tongue pressed hard and flat against you, laving up your drenched cunt to suck on your throbbing clit, once again twisting that coil in your gut into a near painful kind of pleasure. When he speared his long, wet muscle into your neglected hole, you cried out loud enough for the upturn of your pitched moan to echo through the little glade you two had found for yourselves today.

Good thing camp was more than a mile away. Though, if you really stopped to think about it, if any of the others had ever heard what you and their leader got up to during the off hours in the day and the odd hours of the night, would they dare say anything about it?

You often thought how Itto’s love was a lot like how some animals eat their young— the mothers devouring that which is weaker than them to give themselves more strength— the way he wanted his mouth and teeth and tongue to know every single inch of your being, especially when there was the anticipation of a battle on the horizon, the intensity sometimes causing you to question your own safety. Though, the oni had yet to truly go too far and scare you to the point of making you reconsider whether you wanted these kinds of relations between you two to cease entirely.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave the thrill of it all from time to time too.

By the time you were coming completely undone for the first time that session, Itto’s face was shiny and slick from the obscene mixture of his spit and your glistening arousal, his tongue repeatedly poking out to lick at the corners of his lips and collect the excess so as not to waste any parts of you he was lucky enough to get, all the while watching as your trembling, broken form lay in the grass, limbs sprawled out in this angle and that as you failed to register anything concerning your own body beside the immense pleasure that was fading as the slow drip of reality fused back into your veins.

But the two of you were far from done.

Itto hadn’t even come yet.

And, by your own moral standards, that wasn’t very fair, now was it?

Just barely able to feel the grass under your back and catch your breath again, Itto was back on you, slotting himself between your hips and allowing his shadow to engulf you, blocking out the glare of the setting sun behind his silhouette.

“Think you’ve had enough?” the oni taunted, cradling your face in his palms, burning the image of your fucked-out expression into his mind. When you didn’t respond, he gave your cheek a light slap, startling you back to the situation at hand. “Well, I guess that doesn’t matter…” he chuckled, wrapping his hands around your throat. Once again, it was too late for you to react before you realized what was about to happen. “You’re done when I say you’re done.”

The fading embers of your adrenaline burst back to the scorching life of a raging wildfire, not even given the chance to finish sighing out your current exhale before your right to breathe was confiscated.

You clawed at his hands, his wrists, his arms, fighting with everything you had to steal even a quarter of a breath, but Itto wouldn’t allow it. He’d only surrender to your struggling when all your fight had died and you fell limp beneath him. He liked it when you went all soft and slack for him, pliable like the beautiful red clay that sometimes lined the cliffsides near the shore, their natural dyes bleeding into the lapping ocean. 

Itto’s flesh was marked with dozens of tiny, red scratch tracks now, your little nails biting into him until the asphyxiation claimed you and you stilled, your eyes fluttering shut as your chest convulsed and stuttered. Itto let you go then, of course, but got straight back to his main objective while you slowly returned to the land of the living.

By the time you were registering your surroundings again, the vast canopy of trees overhead sending lilac sakura petals drifting down with every new gust of wind, Itto had already positioned himself between your thighs, his aching cock in one hand and lined up with your drooling hole.

He didn’t even warn you that time, just buried himself down to the hilt inside of you with one harsh thrust, knocking the wind from your lungs in an entirely different way as your body struggled to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

You only had a moment to adjust, though, with someone of Itto’s size, even when you two were taking it slow and he was being as gentle and considerate as possible, it was still hard to get used to the sweet, stinging stretch of his length.

You were sure he was going to tear you in two, split you right down the middle until you were broken and ruined and unraveled in a way that only he knew how to put back together again. So when his pace quickly became the ravenous, relentless speed that it often was in the end, all you could do was lay there and let him take you, gripping his horns in your sweaty, trembling fists to anchor yourself to something other than the pain that someone with so much raw power could bestow upon you.

But, as Itto knew well by now, he had a responsibility to ensure that you were able to enjoy this too, even if only by a fraction of the pleasure you allowed him to pillage from your body when he got like this.

So he let you come again, your insides constricting around him in tandem with your final, tortured whines and finally giving him exactly what he needed to overflow you with his balmy love.

There was always so much of it— so much that your body could never quite contain it all, both your combined juices dribbling down your ass and staining the tender insides of your trembling thighs— and no matter how many times the two of you engaged in your bodies’ mutual desires, the bulge that formed in your belly from how much he’d filled you up always came as bit of a surprise.

“That’s it…” Itto sighed, sated, nearly collapsing on top of you as he started to go soft inside, always loving the way you felt cockwarming him in the afterglow of your orgasms. “That’s a good girl… Knew you could take it… So good for me…”

And just like that, with the monster inside of him now fully fed— for the time being, at least— you had your gentle giant back.

Itto carefully pulled out of you, scooping you up in his arms and cradling you against his chest, feeling your warm breath fanning over his dewy skin as your heart rate steadied and the post-sex sleepiness began to overtake you.

You looked like you’d just been through hell— all bitten and bruised and hair mussed in a tangled mess— but Itto stared down at you dozing off against him like you were his little angel, perfect enough to rival the Archons themselves.

He found you beautiful in every way he’d ever seen you, but when you looked like this, with proof that you were his, only his marked in reds and blues and violets across your tender flesh…

It might’ve been his favorite.

So, after carrying you the short distance to a little cave he’d scouting out near the glade, Itto made you comfortable while he cleaned you up, gingerly tended to your wounds the best he could, and then snuggled you back up to his chest, smoothing your hair away from your face and watching you drift off into sleep, already looking forward to when your bruises and bites would inevitably fade and he’d catch you out in some deserted area of the island by chance, both of you ready to partake in this feral ritual all over again.

Because, similar to sinking your teeth into the tender, juicy flesh of a ripened fruit, Itto’s love felt better biting down.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[shmowder]

hi I can't reblog your patho x reader smut posts because I don't put nsfw on my blog but I wanted to let you know they're SO good and hot. also choosing to read them as aroallo daniil rep

Thank you so much!! AAAA <3333 I posted them bc of one person's encouraging comment, I didn't expect more people to actually like them, even in secret. Fr tho, even without rebloging, a sweet message like this is all it takes to make writing and posting things worth it.

There wasn't any x reader in Pathologic before so it was a bit intimidating to be the first one to break the seal in a small fandom but fosjofjsjd it was so worth it.

Oh my god, aroallo Daniil sounds amazing. I didn't write it this way on purpose. It was more of me thinking how he might act in these situations according to his personality. I'm so happy he could be interpreted this way! Hell I actually kinda see it now when rereading what I wrote. lmao it's so funny bc I am aroallo myself.

I'd love to expand more on AroAllo Daniil below, your idea is simply gold. As for the Hysteria fanfic, I do have an idea for part 3, I might even post it on AO3 afterwards as a complete piece.

His lack of romantic attraction would explain a lot in general and even in the pathologic story itself. To be capable of love for humanity, just not romantic love for its individuals.

But let's focus more on a "reader" in this scenario and their relationship with Daniil. Caring for you as he would to one of his patients, inquiring about your well-being constantly and if you feel any discomforts.

If anything, he's more fussing over you than he is to the average patient. It's a clear favouritism, but he doesn't see it that way. In his eyes, he doesn't feel anything more special about you than other people he cares about.

Your "dates" are more of him bringing you along on his daily errands and asking for your input or talking shit about the kains with you behind their back.

Your "romantic nights" consist of him going over his research while you get yourself busy somewhere in his room. He is content with just knowing you're there. If you get bored, then he will involve you in his studies, explaining his recent hypothesis to you and mentioning the latest experiments results on animating then 2 weeks old decomposed tissue sample. It helps him remember his purpose, recall information and think with a clearer mind.

But whenever he's frustrated by something in particular or just exhausted from the endless workload in a single day, you find him by your side, mentioning how long it has been since you felt properly relieved and as a doctor it's his job to take care of you.

To get plausible deniability of course, you see he is doing this for your own health and because he cares. Half of it is true, and in a way he technically does get off on taking care of you.

On having you at his mercy laid on a bed, willing to listen to the knowledgeable bachelor who just has the cure for the ache between your legs. You let him take his time with you and he never does something without asking for permission, you're treated with complete respect whilst having surrounded all powers to him to do as he pleases.

His eyes are cold, and his movement is technical, driven by curiosity and fascination. As the act between you progresses and gets more intimate, he doesn't shy away nor act coy. He doesn't feel any difference than when the two of you first started.

But there is an undeniable shine in his eyes, a gleefully fascination of the human body and how beautifully complex it can be, of all of its capabilities. Each time he's on top of you, he's studying your body, carefully testing your reactions and the sensitivity of your intimate zones.

What makes you shudder, what makes you tense uncomfortably, what makes you lean in for more.

Keeping notice of your growing arousal and your different responses to his various approaches. This is how he has fun, this is where he truly feels in his element in a field of possibilities and endless potential, exploring the human body knowing the other person is as enthusiastic about it as he is.

It's like solving a puzzle, the clear satisfaction on his face when you're on the verge of orgasm, the way his own body meets yours in calculated thrusts, the way he keeps his a clinical facade to the whole ordeal while his mask crumbles down to reveal the desperation and hunger in his eyes. For comfort, for your hot insides, for the rush of adrenaline washing over him just before the blissful release, making his forget the ache in his joints and the soreness in his back.

The way the corners of his lips curl in the aftermath is undeniable, his always straight back forgeting its pose and slumbing down in relaxation, hell even his headache is gone.

He looks at you with gratefulness for your existence, for being by his side. He is thoughtful of you and shows it by cleaning you up, by treating your body with gentleness as he wipes it down. In a way, the aftercare is also a huge part for him in sex, it's like the final bow in a theatre act before the curtains close, taking care of you makes him feel alive, makes him remember why he enjoys being a doctor so much.

You're the most grateful and sincere patient he has ever had.

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Day 15: Fluff

People wouldn’t believe me if I told them, but Niamh Brody does, in fact, baby-talk to the goats when she thinks no one’s around.

(or, some mindless brobelove fluff)

Length: 608

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 or below :))

People wouldn’t believe me if I told them, but Niamh Brody does, in fact, baby-talk to the goats when she thinks no one’s around.

She stayed over last night and I woke up to an empty bed and the sound of Niamh’s cutesy praises, mixed with responding bleats from one of the goats.

“Look at you!! Growing up so big and strong, such a good boy,” she coos.

The goat lets out a small bleat.

I suppress the cheesy awwwww I want to aw. If Niamh knows I’m awake in the loft she’ll stop.

Carefully, I get out of bed and peak over the edge of the loft. My girlfriend is sat crisscross on the barn floor with the youngest kid. She’s petting him between the wings, and he bumps his head into her chest.

She laughs lightly, and pats his back.

“You are such a sweet babyyy,” she says in a voice at least an octave above her normal speech. “Even if you are a little shit sometimes,” Niamh scratches under the kid’s chin and he flaps his wings so hard he lifts a few centimeters off the ground.

I can hardly handle this.

I descend the ladder as quietly as possible, trying not to interrupt the sweet moment. But the floor creaks once I reach the bottom, and Niamh catches me.

She quickly stands and clears her throat.

“Good morning,” she greets me in her regular stoic voice. She tries to act big and tough but her face quickly turns bright red. The kid squirms in her arms as she scratches behind its ear.

I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Don’t play coy with me, Brody,” I tease, walking closer to my adorable girlfriend and the adorable baby goat in her arms. (She’d hate it if she knew I thought of her as adorable).

“All I said was good morning,” she retorts, but a small downward smile spreads across her face.

“Oh? I could have sworn I heard someone down here saying something about a ‘sweet adorable little innocent babyyy’” I exaggerate her cutesy voice and squish the little goat’s cheeks.

He nibbles at my fingers and I laugh.  

“You must be hearing things,” Niamh says, but she’s wearing her little “kiss me” frown when I look up.

I lean over the kid and press my lips to hers.

The goat starts flying around us as Niamh deepens the kiss. I sigh against her. Niamh runs a hand through my hair so I pull her closer to me.

“You’re so cute when you baby-talk to the kids,” I mummer against Niamh’s lips.

Niamh stops, clearly annoyed at my choice of words.

“You can be cute and a strong handsome butch,” I argue.

“Fine,” she gives in. She pulls me in for another amazing kiss, so I know she isn’t really that upset.

We can’t get too lost in each other, because the kid starts head butting my back with his little nubby horns.

I squeal, and then laugh, batting the bugger away from me.

“He really is a little shit,” I say, reaching for him but the kid flies higher, out of my reach.

Niamh lets out a deep laugh.

I love her laugh, even if it’s at my expense, in this case.

I step back into her embrace, thinking maybe we could just stay here and kiss the morning away.

But the goats have other plans. The kid has flown down and started nipping at my camisole, and I can hear the rest of the herd getting restless.

I place one more kiss on Niamh’s lips, then start the rest of my day.

[mae-dwrites]

Taking Flight - Chapter 3 - Set Forth

Ao3 | Wattpad

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Marinette guided the short older man through the train station. She didn’t want to, she wanted to hold his hand and beg him to remember. She wanted to say every possible word that could maybe, just maybe jog his memory. But the power that surrounded everything relating to the Miraculi was old and one of the strongest, Marinette could only assume that in all possibility that a wish had been made to help protect the Miraculi and the Guardians, this magic was so strong it had to be.

A gentle gasp escaped from the old man, that of amazement and a sudden feeling of adoration for the woman as he laid eyes. He felt the itch to drop everything, to let his heart guide his feet down the walkway. But he held himself back and tried to hold himself up, as much as his old self could at least, and cleared his throat, “Is that Marianne?”

His voice shook a little more than would have cared to admit. This was so dumb, he had just turned into a squirmish boy in just a moment.

Marinette giggled, “Yes that’s her.” Marinette waved at Marianne, They didn’t have very long as the train was to leave for London in a few minutes. The two hugged, “I’m so happy to see you again Marinette.”

Marianne smiled at the young lady, she was so strong. It hurt Marianne she couldn’t stay to help but Wang needed her, and he couldn’t stay here. Not to mention there isn’t a lot she could really do for Marinette. Marianne squeezed her hand and gave a reassuring smile, Marinette wasn’t alone even if they weren’t here. Marinette got the message and squeezed back with a nod.

“M. Wang Fu this is Mlle. Marianne.” Marinette turned to the old man as she reintroduced him to the love of his life. A life he couldn’t remember, it left a cold void in Marinette’s chest. It was like a vacuum was pulling the warmth of her chest away. But she felt herself feel a little fuller as Fu had this silent recognition of Marianne, he was desperately trying to remember her, trying to place her from somewhere.

“I feel as though I know you from somewhere, but I can’t seem to place just where. I am very sorry for that dear,” Wang Fu said. He became very embarrassed from calling her dear, it had simply slipped out in all honesty. He hadn’t meant to call her that. He expected her to grimace or shy away from him but instead, she just gave the man a content smile. Marianne reached out and grabbed his free hand, “All is forgiven Fu, we’ve been apart for far too long.”

Marianne let out a chuckle for herself, “I believe we best get going otherwise we’ll have to wait for when the train comes back.”

“I would gladly wait with you,” Wang Fu said.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the old couple. It was its own sample of sweetness, while Fu may be more like his younger shy self he still had his soundless confidence he had as Guardian. He felt safe and comfortable for once in a very long time. Marianne nodded toward Marinette, “Thank you Marinette.”

“Of course Mlle. Marianne.”

“Marinette I thought we went over this. We’re friends, Marianne is just fine.”

Marinette giggled as Fu turned back to Marinette, “Thank you Marinette for bringing me back to my Marianne. I’m sorry I don’t remember you, I’m sure you were amazing.”

Marianne’s face flushed, even without any memories from the war he still said “My Marianne”.

Marinette tried to say something in response but couldn’t so instead she bent down and hugged the man. Fu didn’t know how to react but he returned the hug. Marinette gave a gentle squeeze and whispered, “Thank you for everything.”

And before they knew it the couple was on the train to London and Marinette was standing on the platform for longer than needed. She wiped away her tears, she needed to move before a possible Akuma came for her. Marinette had already let her walls go down for a moment she needed to keep them instated until she took down Hawkmoth.

But at the moment the Bakery needed her.

☾•☽

Bridget frowned to herself as she signed the NDA packet. As soon as she got to Paris she was going to start research on what was happening.

Diana hadn’t been to Paris in almost two years, she sent Bridget to check in when she first left, which aligned perfectly with her birthday visit with Marinette. Diana was soon going to visit Themyscira before returning back to her home base in Paris. Bridget was sent to check if there was anything going on that Diana would need to deal with, so Diana once she got back from Themyscira could be briefed on her home beforehand.

While Diana could have asked Batman to get any information she needed but Diana trusted Bridget. Diana had planned for her schedule to have her stay in Themyscira til late December. Why, she hadn’t disclosed to Bridget but Bridget trusted the demigod. Bridget was to stay in Paris til the beginning of January where they could exchange in America before Diana finally returned to Paris.

Bridget had been talking to Sabine to “warn her” of her comings and goings. Sabine had sounded nervous whenever they called, and now Bridget understood. Magic had always made Sabine nervous, so as much as Sabine had studied it Huang had been the one to truly pursue in understanding the art of it. To see magic so far as to see its purest of forms.

Perhaps she could give their brother a call about this situation. Bridget could see if she could get it cleaned up for Diana before she came to Paris. She was going to be here for about four months, which should be about enough time to get something magic related cleaned up. At least mostly cleaned up.

Bridget could only imagine if they had to sign NDAs then there had to be a rule in Paris about not speaking of the situation. But that would be next to impossible, not without an outside party. France’s President wouldn’t do this, would she? There was a lot for Bridget to find out once she arrived, for now, she would come up with a list of things to search for after the flight. After the list was made she took her planned flight nap.

It was an almost eight-hour flight, the jetlag was a pain and she never got used to it. It’s funny how her job required her to fly a majority of the time. Maybe if she was a Super then jetlag wouldn’t be so bad? No, it probably would feel the same just flying yourself would be simpler.

The tension in her stature all melted as she saw Sabine, she couldn’t help letting her guard down. Not when it was her sister, the warmth that seeped through her as she made her way to her. The hug like everyone before was firm but an embrace full of love. She was sheltered from the rest of the world, nothing else mattered but that her older sister was here. As much as she wished she could stay in this feeling she, like always, had to continue on.

“We have much to discuss Xia,” Bridget gave Sabine her pointed look. It may have worked on new recruits but this was Sabine, not many could rival her. Sabine laughed before grabbing one of Bridget’s suitcases for her, “You certainly aren’t wrong. But how about that waits a little, I didn’t tell Marinette you were coming.”

Bridget immediately perked up, surprising Marinette was always fun. She didn’t get to do it often but she was always did it as unexpectedly as possible. Though she rivaled with Gina.

“You usually tell her Sabine,” Bridget loaded her suitcase into the trunk of the cab. Sabine followed suit, “Well you were right about me needing to watch her more. I haven’t really been seeing her since the shock of this whole situation.”

“I’m always right,” Bridget smirked at the woman before sliding into the cab giving Sabine’s address. Sabine frowned at her. Bridget raised her hands in surrender, “My bad.”

“It’s just,” Sabine paused and sighed. “I wasn’t watching out for her like I should have been. I looked at the surface but didn’t see what was going on.”

“How so?”

Sabine rested her head against the head cushion, her stress, and anxiety were as clear as happy birthday written on a cake. She glanced out the window in hopes to quell the thoughts of doubt twisting her gut. She turned back to her sister, “I was only paying attention to mundane things like her grades and if she had enough money to keep her going. I didn’t really ask how she was, just how her day was going. Marinette is emotional, she’s always been in tune with her emotions. She certainly didn’t get that from me.” Sabine gave an airy chuckle.

“Ain’t that true,” Bridget laughed. She remembered being so surprised when she met Tom, the man aside from being a giant had worn his heart on his sleeve. Bridget had seen Tom cry to Marinette’s kids' shows with her when they were younger, that didn’t mean he was such an emotional person, he just got invested. But regardless Sabine had surprised everyone with Tom.

“Can you give me a run down for now at least?” Bridget changed the topic, as they arrived at the bakery. They said thanks and grabbed Bridget’s things and entered through the resident's door.

“No one’s contacted us about living in this apartment so I’ve closed the option,” Sabine stated as she unlocked the apartment’s door. “I still expect rent to be paid. I’m assuming someone is funding your stay.”

“Yes, I’ll send them a message for rent to be paid to you.” Bridget looked around the apartment, smaller than she thought it would be. Then again she didn’t need much, it’s only four months. She spread the curtains, light floated through the room. Bridget seemed to lean into the shine and the warmth it provided.

Sabine sat on the sofa, “Marinette comes home for lunch usually but today she’s eating with friends, so you can surprise her after school.”

“So until then, you can fill me in” Bridget hopped over the back of the sofa and sat down. She could unpack later, it’s not like she packed her whole life.

Sabine told her of the first day, the first Akuma. How people were turned to stone after Ladybug and Chat Noir first saved Ivan, one of Marinette’s classmates. The poor boy was simply trying to sort his young emotions. Sabine showed her The Ladyblog, which was run by a young reporter who also happened to be one of Marinette’s classmates. She also was Marinette’s best friend, she had gotten an exclusive interview with the heroine Ladybug. Perhaps she could talk to Alya one of the times she came over, also last week was revealed to be the fox heroine Rena Rouge. Along with a few other of Marinette’s classmates.

They were all so young, Ladybug shouldn’t be giving magical jewels to random teens. But what if it wasn’t so random, while Bridget couldn’t truly figure out Ladybug what she could tell was that she was young. Ladybug could be just a kid, and so she chooses those she trusts when she isn’t swinging around Paris. That was the only logical option.

She couldn’t risk giving them to adults, anyone of them could be this Hawkmoth or his new associate Mayura. From their few appearances of them and from their voices they were clearly adults as compared to the beetle and cat.

Sabine had left her with her computer to look into things as she wished. Sabine still had a bakery to run, and Bridget couldn’t spend the whole day with Sabine. She was here on business, so until Marinette came home she would be coming up with her game plan.

“So until then, you can fill me in” Bridget hopped over the back of the sofa and sat down. She could unpack later, it’s not like she packed her whole life.

Sabine told her of the first day, the first Akuma. How people were turned to stone after Ladybug and Chat Noir first saved Ivan, one of Marinette’s classmates. The poor boy was simply trying to sort his young emotions. Sabine showed her The Ladyblog, which was run by a young reporter who also happened to be one of Marinette’s classmates. She also was Marinette’s best friend, she had gotten an exclusive interview with the heroine Ladybug. Perhaps she could talk to Alya one of the times she came over, also last week was revealed to be the fox heroine Rena Rouge. Along with a few other of Marinette’s classmates.

They were all so young, Ladybug shouldn’t be giving magical jewels to random teens. But what if it wasn’t so random, while Bridget couldn’t truly figure out Ladybug what she could tell was that she was young. Ladybug could be just a kid, and so she chooses those she trusts when she isn’t swinging around Paris. That was the only logical option.

She couldn’t risk giving them to adults, anyone of them could be this Hawkmoth or his new associate Mayura. From their few appearances of them and from their voices they were clearly adults as compared to the beetle and cat.

Sabine had left her with her computer to look into things as she wished. Sabine still had a bakery to run, and Bridget couldn’t spend the whole day with Sabine. She was here on business, so until Marinette came home she would be coming up with her game plan.

[brazilianchild]

for people who leave comments on fics: you are my favorite people and i hope you have an amazing day 💞💘💖💕💓💞💖💝

[funsizedshark]

your griddlehark was such a funny and cute reading! and i was wondering if you have any griddlehark recs on ao3? thank you!!

hi anon! first of all thank you so much, i'm so glad u enjoyed it hehe and second of all!! i absolutely do :] i wouldn't call myself an expert but ive been going through the tag and i definitely have a few favorites that i need to comment on because i really loved these fics a lot. all of these are currently complete! i hope you enjoy them and if you want im always up for discussing great works hehe

here we go: not enough to ruin me by autumntales: 29k, the handmaiden au set on the ninth. showstopping amazing incredible if you havent seen the handmaiden i think id recommend you watch the movie first because knowing the plot twist is coming makes it even sexier but! theres no movie knowledge required. excellent work.

its a long road (losing all you own) by greekphilosophress: 5k, library au, harrow thinks shes being haunted and antagonized by gideon. honestly whats new. harrow's internal monologue on the brink of a nervous breakdown is what rlly makes this fantastic

the things that befall cavaliers by ThatAloneOne: 1k, short and sweet in that rip your heart out way. gideon and harrow from the end of gtn are time-looped back to the beginning of the events while theyre still on the ninth. i wanna read a 40k fic with this premise now

Midnight at the Mithraeum by zoicite; 66k, harrow is the manager of a speakeasy, gideon works at a casino, they hate each other and wake up married. literally what more could you ask for. i love realistic relationship development and even though they are very stupid and bad at communicating i adore them

Cake by the Ocean by zoicite: 15k, same author!! gideon bargains her voice for human legs after she saves harrow from drowning. it goes just about as well as you imagine it would go but its hilarious

The Furnace of You by Cypseloides: 67k, post htn (not nona compliant) where harrow, gideon and cam(and pal) end up escaping from the mithraeum. the summary reads angst. dramatiques. kissing. and theyre right its all of that but theres also camilla being incredible. palamedes being just as great. and most importantly, gideon getting some LOVIN

blue gray green lavender by smolranger: 29k, harrow and gideon are forced to work together to participate in a sailing race. this made me want to learn how to sail, which is the highest possible compliment i can pay a fic-you made me wanna learn something. thats incredible. i love it. the amount of detail in it is so good to read and the griddlehark is just. chef's kiss. excellent work

raise the gates, love by syntheseas: 3k hades (the videogame) au where gideon is zagreus and harrow is thanatos. if uve ever played the game youre gonna love this, its so good and the premise is PERFECT like are you kidding. thats Them

trust/fall by strangehunger; 4k, piercer harrowhark lets tattoo artist gideon tattoo her. anon u dont know me but tattoos are IT for me so this really checked all the boxes for me personally

we've got a good thing goin' by sinshine: 14k, nebulously post htn, team 69 find a safe house and its. the tern family vacation home. its hilarious. griddlehark try and fail to figure their shit out until they get it right. i love it

beat your swords into ploughshares (and your spears into pruning hooks) by NotAFicWriter: 18k, post-war, harrowhark goes cottagecore and avoids everyone. she plants tomatoes instead. little butch farmer harrow was everything i never knew i needed but this fic DELIVERED. i was yearning for a butch farmer wife like ten words in

eyes and words so icy, oh but she burns by groundedsaucer (coasterchild): 47k, harrow is a figure skater, gideon is a hockey player. obviously they end up pair skating together for a competition. obviously they hate each other at the beginning. i went into this with high expectation and finished it with the delight i usually associate with good sports anime. loved it

nothing safe is worth the drive by saltwaterconfessions (rosesandcinnamon): 4k, modern au with out besties on a road trip, the pining is incredible. hit a little bit too close to home ! the lesbian yearning is strong in this one !

let’s drink to feelings of temptation by overnights: 25k, bartender colleagues au, extremely fun because i love them being antagonistic. it fuels me.

memories of darkness undone by the light by corpsesoldier: 5k, not nona compliant post htn, if these two just TALKED TO EACH OTHER............ i swear to god. also an excellent example of lesbian miscommunication and yearning. really good

i hope u have fun reading! make sure to also check out other fics by these same authors and send them some love :] i might update this list in the future as i read my way through the tag. have a nice day!

[donutloverxo]

His queen

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.

Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader

Word count - 5.3k

Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.

Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.

It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.

But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.

So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.

You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.

He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.

He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.

Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.

He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.

Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.

“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.

Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.

From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.

Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.

It was as if you were addicted to it.

“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.

“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.

“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.

It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.

Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.

But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.

So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.

“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.

You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.

“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.

“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.

Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.

“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.

“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.

“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.

“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”

You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”

“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”

“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”

“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.

“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”

“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.

“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”

“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”

“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.

“So?”

“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.

“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.

“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.

“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.”

“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”

“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”

“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”

He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.

Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?

“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”

“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.

“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”

“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.

“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”

“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.

“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”

“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”

“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”

“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”

“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.

“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”

“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”

“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.

“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”

“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”

“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”

“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.

“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.

“And what is ‘that’?”

“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”

He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.

Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.

He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.

That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.

You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.

Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.

And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.

He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.

Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.

After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.

You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.

Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.

You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.

Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.

“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.

He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.

You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.

“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.

Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.

He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.

“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.

Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.

It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.

So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.

“But you’re not even considering it!”

You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.

But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.

“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.

“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.

“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”

He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.

He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.

“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.

“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.

“Won’t you even think about it?”

“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.

“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.

She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.

Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.

“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?

“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.

“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.

You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.

“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”

“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”

“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”

It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.

“The queen wants us to...”

“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.

“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.

“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.

“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”

“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.

You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.

You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”

He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.

“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”

“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.

“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.

You would never believe in love again.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.

“No! I like this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.

You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.

“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”

“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”

“What did you see?”

“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.

“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”

“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.

“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.

Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.

“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.

“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”

“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes...”

He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.

“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.

“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.

“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”

He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.

“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.

“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.

“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

[flannelplanet]

HELLO FRIENDS!

Here's a list of some phenomenal Ted x Rebecca fics I've stumbled across recently:

The Things Left Unsaid Series by @sneaky-salty-bitch

Rated: T

This series is amazing. The author takes each episode and writes the things left unsaid... The thoughts and backstories we're dying to know. Each episode is its own story, and as of now, the Pilot and Biscuits are finished. This story is updated consistently and I love being able to read each character's storyline in a different way. Things Left Unsaid is a truly unique work!

My Body Over Yours by @talldecafcappuccino

Rated: M

Quite possibly my favorite AU I've read so far. Ted is the Ambassador to the United States who hires Rebecca for his private security detail. I love how the author paints each character with such an incredible brush of action, intrigue, and it's been so fun to read! This fic is still a WIP, but is updated frequently. The last update has me on the edge of my seat waiting for the next chapter!

Technically, There Were Plenty of Beds by greyathena

Rated: M

A mishap has the team staying at a really... interesting hotel during an away stay. The team bonds with each other, with their coaching staff, and with the boss. This was a super cute feel-good fic that had me laughing at the sheer ridiculousness that this hotel has.

Walk Tight, One Line (You're Wanted This Time) by @heavyuponmyskin

Rated: M

An absolutely phenomenal fic! There are some interesting characters giving hard truths to our favorite loveable idiots, and those same loveable idiots realizing their friends just might be on to something. This is a long one-shot, slow-burn, and one I cannot recommend enough.

Ted Lasso and the Five Love Languages by @klovenhooves

Rated: M

The lovely story where Ted tries to stop himself from falling for Rebecca by accidentally falling for Rebecca. Bantr is a sneaky, salty bitch sometimes, eh? Anyway, each chapter covers one of the five love languages and how they apply in the case of Ted and Rebecca. This is a very sweet fic, completed, and I loved every minute of reading it!

Happy reading! ♥

If there's a fic you've written or read that you'd like covered in a post like this, please message!

And also, if an author I've mentioned has a tumblr that I didn't link, please let me know and I'll change their AO3 pseud to their tumblr url.

I'll be making a rec list once a week (its the goal, and its a loose one).

PLEASE SHARE!!! The best way to get traction on fics is to share them. Send links to your friends! Talk about them! Spread the love! Comment comment comment!!!!!

Thanks for taking the time to read, and please check these fics out and send them some love ♥

[novaiya]

Of Cigars and Delicate Flowers - Dutch x Reader

Summary: Based on this request for @fandomhoesworld ; heyyyyy, I love your works, they're amazing 🥰 could you do a Dutch X badass reader where he gets captured and she comes to save him? It's okay if you don't want to, thanks 🤍

Words: 2,888

Tags: GN!Reader, Canon Typical Violence

A/N: This was a good practice for me for writing literally anyone else but Arthur. I need to keep expanding my horizons 😩 AO3 Link.

There was a reason Dutch almost never went out alone, staying mostly in camp and commanding the gang from the porch of his tent; His likeness - the slick-back, black hair, the carefully cut mustache, the black hat - was plastered all over the country, posters hanging in post offices, general stores, train stations and sheriff’s offices. It would be no time before someone recognized him if he decided to take a stroll into town or visit the local saloon, so more often than not, he stayed in camp, and everything that he needed was brought to him, like his cigars.

When it came to cigars, Dutch had a very specific taste; the size had to be just right, not too slender so it burned too hot too fast, and not too thick either so it was heavy and harsh. The notes played an important role too; he preferred the spicy flavor of coffee mixed with toasted nuts, though he didn’t mind the notes of cedar and vanilla from time to time. Due to the specifics, finding the right pack of cigars could be a hassle and a headache, so whenever he did find the right one, he made sure to stack up on them.

This time, unfortunately, Dutch had found himself in a new place with no reliable cigar shop and his own supply dwindling down. He’d been puffing on the same cigar for a few days now, hoping to prolong it for as long as possible, though he could already see the end of it. He was hoping to send one of the boys into town to check for him, but everybody was busy; Arthur was on one of his monthly hunting trips, Hosea and John were working on a job, and the rest of the men were out, scouting for any leads. That left just one option; going himself. He knew it could be dangerous and risky, but his need for nicotine was stronger than his rational thought.

“What are you thinking about, Dutch?” you asked when you walked past his tent, noticing his absent minded gaze.

“Hello there,” he said, his gaze shifting towards you, a smile on his lips. “Just thinking about going out.”

Your brows shot up upon hearing his words. The gang had just fled from the previous town on the account of robbing it blind, so all of you were trying to lay low, hoping to make as little noise as possible for the time being. Having Dutch go out was the last thing you needed.

“Out?” you repeated his word, trying to hide the worry in your voice. “What for?”

Dutch brought the cigar to his lips, the usually long stick now reduced to less than a third of its previous length. You watched him as he brought the cigar to his mouth, his lips enveloping and puffing on it before exhaling the smoke. “Unfortunately, I’m down to my last cigar. Need to pick up some more in town,” he said, making you shift your eyes back to his, “Wouldn’t hurt to stretch my legs either. I’m feeling like a prisoner stuck here.”

“Are you sure, Dutch?” you said, not hiding the worry in your voice any longer. “Perhaps I could go for you. It’s not safe for you to go right now since we just-“

“Nonsense!” Dutch interrupted you. “I wouldn’t dream of putting a delicate flower such as yourself in harm's way for me.”

‘Delicate flower?!’ you thought. ‘Since when do delicate flowers rob, kill and steal?’

You opened your mouth, hoping to change Dutch’s mind but you barely parted your lips before he raised his hand, saying, “I won’t hear it” squashing any argument you could have had.

You deflated before nodding your head, leaving Dutch to himself and continuing on to where you were going originally. Worry filled you as you continued on with your day. You’d hate for anything to happen to him; not only was he your leader who you believed in and looked up to, he was also someone you liked. It was hard not to fall for him; well-read, mannered, strong and sinfully attractive, you’ve fallen for him and his promises of a better life right away. You didn’t act on your feelings though, considering he was the leader and you were just one of the members, and a new one at that. So you retorted to watching from afar, and now you were watching him as he left the camp, ready to make the trek for some puny cigars.

Dutch could be unbelievably stubborn and uncooperative sometimes; It was dangerous for him to go out, especially on his own and especially when you could still be followed from the town you just escaped. And for what? Cigars? You shook your head as you continued with what you were doing, trying to keep yourself calm. It was Dutch you were talking about after all, your fearless leader, he knew what he was doing, right?

Dutch didn’t know what he was doing. He decided to go out after supper, when the sun had already set, but the ground was still warm from the day’s heat. He made his way into town at a trotting, leisurely pace, having no reason to hurry. The weather was cooler now and he took big gulps of it, a welcomed change to inhaling the campfire smoke and the scent of Pearson’s stew. He arrived into the town with no hiccups and found the store almost right away. The selection was vast, with cigars from Cuba, Dominican Republic and Mexico among others. Dutch looked like a kid in a candy shop as he studied every cigar, wanting to take them all but in the end, settled on a pack from Jamaica, its promise of a mild and sweet taste piquing his interest.

With his purchase in his saddle bag, Dutch made his way back to the camp in the same way he did into town, slow and steady, taking in the scenery and the weather. It’s not everyday that he ventured out, so he made sure that he enjoyed it. It was not long after he passed the border of the town that he heard a faint sound of hoofbeats behind him, getting closer and closer and multiplying in numbers.

“Nice night, ain’t it?” said a man who came up to Dutch, riding next to him on his right side. Not a second later, another man came up, riding on Dutch’s left.

Dutch kept one of his hands on the reins, his other (which was previously hanging on his side), icing closer to his holster.

“Yes, it sure is,” he said.

“Say what, mister,” the man on his right began, “Are you Dutch Van Der Linde?”

Without missing a beat, Dutch laughed, saying, “You must be mistaken, sir. My name is Robert Carnegie.”

Neither of the men riding next to him laughed. They looked at each other, before looking behind them, presumingly to communicate with the other. Dutch’s hand was now on his revolver, the cool metal sticking to his sweaty skin. He gripped the handle, and as soon as he did, a hit landed on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

Your worries kept you through the night, not letting you go to bed and making you sit by the campfire instead, waiting for Dutch’s return. Each time you heard a snap of twigs or what sounded like horse’s hoofbeats, your head would snap towards the entrance of the camp, hoping that it was Dutch coming in, but alas, it wasn’t.

It was long after everyone fell asleep when you finally saw Count trot into the camp, his platinum coat standing out against the dark trees.

You smiled, jumping up from the log you’ve been sitting at, ready to welcome Dutch back, but that smile quickly fell when you noticed that Dutch wasn’t with him.

“Where’s Dutch?” you said when you came up to stand next to Count, talking to the horse as if he could understand you, and perhaps, he did. He snickered, shaking his head and kicking around with his legs.

You placed your hand on him, running it up and down his neck to calm him down. Something went wrong, terribly wrong. Despite not wanting to think of the worst, you understood that there was no other explanation of what could’ve happened; Dutch got captured.

Time was of the essence, so without talking to anyone else or even taking time to make a plan, you mounted your own horse and made your way to Count. Dutch might’ve called you a “delicate flower”, but you were anything but that. You survived on your own for years before falling with the gang, and you were going to show him just what this “delicate flower” was capable of on their own.

“C’mon, show me where Dutch is.”

Upon hearing his owner’s name, Count sprung to action and bolted out of the camp, giving you almost no time to follow after him.

It didn’t take you long to arrive at where Dutch was held. The burning campfire and the sound of chatter could be seen and heard yards away. You hitched the horses to one of the trees before continuing the rest of the way on foot.

“Robert Carnegie, he said his name was,” you heard a man say. “What kind of idiots does he think we are?” A flood of laughter followed, drowning out any other sound in the bushy forest. You took out your binoculars, trying to see where Dutch were. There he was, tied to one of the trees not far from the campfire. His hair was a mess, and you could see traces of blood on his lip and nose. You could feel your blood boil at the sight, and quickly put away your binoculars before continuing your way forward.

“I’d say we turn him in first thing in the morning,” another man said. “No reason to drag this out.”

“Sounds good to me. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

The men continued on with their conversations when you finally approached them as close as you could without alerting them of your presence. You could feel your heart beat wildly against your ribcage as you gathered your thoughts, thinking of what to do next. It would’ve been nice to have someone else with you right now, you thought, to act as a distraction. Perhaps you should’ve thought this one over more before springing into action. Too late now.

You peeked your head from where you were hidden behind a tree, trying to get a look at Dutch. He was conscious, thought quite, tied to a tree, his head hanging low. It was weird seeing Dutch like this, helpless and vulnerable.

You picked up a small pebble before throwing it into his general direction. Nothing. He didn’t even raise his head. You picked up another one, debating whether to throw it right at his face, before deciding to throw it next to his shoes. That got his attention. Tentatively, as to not alert the men around him, he raised his head, his eyes searching the woods before finally landing on your face. Your eyes met, and you could see a hint of smile appear on his lips as soon as they did. A smile of your own made it to your lips for a moment, before turning serious again, your mind going back to the job at hand. There would be time for smiles and hugs and laughter later. Using your hands, you motioned around, pointing first to him and then to the bounty hunters, before pointing to yourself and to your gun. Dutch made a small, almost unnoticeable motion with his head, indicating that he understood your plan.

“Gentlemen,” Dutch said, stopping the men in their conversation and making all of them turn to him. “Are you sure you want to do this? If I was you, I’d walk away now.”

One of the men snickered, looking at his friends before turning his attention back to Dutch.

“That’s big talk, considering you’re the one tied to a tree.”

“I’m giving you a chance, my friend,” Dutch said, sincerity painting his words.

The man’s face grew dark and somber as did the atmosphere around. He didn’t appreciate Dutch’s words, so with a hand itching closer to his revolver, he said, “Listen here, friend. The poster said to bring you dead or alive, so don’t think for a minute-“

Dutch’s face was painted red as you shot the man in-front of him, blowing his brains out and making his blood spurt everywhere, Dutch included.

The other men sprung to action immediately, their hands going for their firearms and shooting blindly into the dark woods. For a while, all that was heard was the sound of gunshots and occasional cries and screams. You alternated between hiding behind the trees and rocks, occasionally peeking out to shoot one of the men. At last, the fire seized and the forest was once again quiet, the only sound heard being the crackling of the fire.

You peeked your head out, making sure that you’ve got all of the men before finally leaving your hiding spot and making your way to Dutch in long, powerful strides. With shaking hands, you cut down the rope that was tying him to the tree. As soon as he was freed, he massaged his wrists and the imprints that the ropes left on them. He was about to open his mouth to talk, but you began first, your voice loud enough to startle him.

“What were you thinking?!” you screamed, getting up in his face. “Getting captured because of some god forsaken cigars?!”

Dutch tried to speak again, almost got the first word of his sentence in but you continued, not letting him speak.

“What if I didn’t get here? What if I couldn’t find you? For God’s sake Dutch Van Der Linde, why did you have to put yourself in such danger, all for some cigars?!”

To say that he was shocked was to say nothing. He did not expect such a reaction from you, for as long as he’d known you you’ve been cool, calm and collected, always using logic instead of feelings, never speaking in bursts of fury. The fact that you were so riled up, because of him, shocked him and left him practically speechless.

“I…” he began,” I didn’t know you cared so much.”

At this point, you have calmed down somewhat, so you heaved a sigh at his words, shaking your head a little before saying, “Of course I care, Dutch.”

“Why?”

His question was sharp and quick, and you were caught off guard by it, not having a moment to think of an answer or a lie.

“Well, I…” you said, awkwardly glancing around. “I care about you, Dutch.”

“You do, huh?” he said with a smirk.

“Of course I do, all of us in the gang do!” you try to backtrack on your statement, but it was too late, Dutch caught on. You tried not to pay attention to his smug smirk as you whistled for the horses. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else shows up.”

You were up on your horse almost as soon as she arrived, and waited for Dutch to get on his before moving. He mounted Count with a grunt, the injuries he sustained while being held captive making themselves known.

For a moment, you let yourself forget that it was Dutch Van Der Linde you were talking to, and said, “Who’s the delicate flower now?” As soon as the words escaped your mouth, you placed your hand over it, shocked at your own boldness. A silence followed, and you braved yourself for whatever would follow next. A laugh from Dutch startled you as much as his wrath would, and you didn’t dare to say anything until he spoke up, saying, “Perhaps I underestimated you.”

You couldn’t help but relax and smile upon hearing his words, his praise nourishing your soul and making you sit up straighter in your saddle.

“Thank you, Dutch.”

As the two of you made your way out of the forest, Dutch slowed down the pace of Count so he could be riding next to you.

He cleared his throat to get your attention, and when you turned towards him he said, “I should probably apologize for misjudging your potential.” He was silent for a few moments after saying that, before adding, “Perhaps a night on the town and a dinner are in order to make up for my mistakes?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his offer, considering the situation he got himself in was directly caused by going into town.

“After everything that has happened,” you said, squinting your eyes at him, “you still want to go into town?”

“Well, of course! I got you by my side,” he said. “With a capable and clever person as you, I feel comfortable going anywhere.”

His statement made a blush appear on your cheeks, which you hoped he didn’t see in the dark night. Even beaten and bruised, Dutch never lost his famous charm.

“You are something else Mr. Van Der Linde,” you said with a smile, shaking your head.

[fogsrollingin]

Daddy \ ˈda-dēˈ \ adorable an SPN Reclist for Dad!Sam and/or !Dean Let’s face it, being a good dad is an incredibly attractive trait in a man. When Sam and/or Dean are saddled with kiddos, whether the kids are their own or adoptive, and they’re caring, protective, patient, etc. it’s just a damn great read. So here are some of my favorites. ✧ My fic recs are updated regularly on DW and quarterly on Tumblr. Link to the possibly updated reclist on DW here ✧ My entire catalogue of fic recs on tumblr here ✧ This post was last updated 1/21/2022

Category: Gen But All Endings Are Also Beginnings by Gillian Middleton, rated PG, 26k, Gen. Summary: Alternate universe story Dean and Sam reunite after four years apart. Sam is burying his past, and Dean is holding his future. Baby story https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3188594/ my thoughts: I love Gillian Middleton, and this fic was so sweet and interesting with just inserting a baby girl into the pilot outright. SO good!

How the Wild Things Start by Foolscapper. Rated Mature, Gen, 60k words. Summary: 9x23 diverging AU. "This is where it starts — the brightly lit ring, the screams, the glinting of knives, the baring of teeth. This, right here, is where it begins. Sam turns to Dean, Metatron just a hero's walk away, and Dean slams his fist into the side of Sam's face. It will bruise, but that's not the point. Sam will not face Metatron's blade and wrath, but that is not the point. The point is, Dean puts Sam's hands on his chest, the action sickly sweet like perfume left on a tacky, bloated corpse — and then he walks away. He leaves Sam, dreaming black dreams on the ground, just outside of the impala. Baby does not protect him when one of Abaddon's followers finds him. Baby does not scream for help or look for Dean when the demons drag Sam's unconscious body away. When Dean leaves Metatron's burnt-out husk, his bones screaming ecstasy from the kill, he finds Sam gone." ao3.org/works/4754549 my thoughts: this was a whole lotta Sam whump and angst that tore me up. Very Sam-centric, majority of this fic is Sam desperately wishing for Dean and somewhere along the way of forced slavery/cage-fighting with monsters, internalizing a self-hatred that convinces him to stay away from Dean; thinking Dean would hunt Sam down if he discovered what & where he was now... hunt Sam down... and his adoptive monster daughters! Such a satisfying happy ending. I would love a sequel of just comforting family life after all the trauma Sam and his girls suffered. But it was still such a riveting, emotional journey. Amazing work, foolscapper, this author is just so talented.

Category: Sam/Dean I See the Moon by kaylennz. Teen+, Dean/Sam, 88k words. Summary: Sam had known how Dean felt about him when he’d left for Stanford. His own feelings weren’t so clear. He’d needed time away from it all, hunting, his father, and especially Dean. It took him five years and a degree he hadn’t planned on to realize there was only one person he wanted to share his life with. He’d never considered the possibility that Dean would move on without him…or that something could happen that would erase him from his brother’s life completely. ao3.org/works/799092 my thoughts: Daddy!Dean and broken-hearted!Sam looking for his big brother, and of course happy endings. This fic had a lot of wonderful moments. Also in my amnesia reclist.

Home Visits by dimeliora. Rated NC-17, Dean/Sam (unrelated), 18k. Summary: Dean Winchester is in the process of adopting a daughter when a government worker throws his delicately balanced world off its axis. ao3.org/works/686647 my thoughts: man this is just a really sweet story, almost a fairy tale. I loved the OC, a traumatized girl named Hannah that takes such a shining to Dean. The familial drama that unfolds had me reading contentedly through the whole thing. Sam’s character was so supportive and loving (and ace! very cool). An emotional journey and lovely read. Also in my Mundane AU reclist.

A Life Most Ordinary by sonofabiscuit77. Rated R, Sam/Dean, 69k. Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are two ordinary brothers living ordinary small-town lives. Okay, so having a mother who was brutally murdered by one of America’s most notorious serial killers and a father who was forever mentally scarred by the event is not that ordinary, but the rest of their problems: marriage breakdowns and relationship failures, job disappointments and sexuality crisis, and Dean’s two kids, 9 year-old Jonah with his disturbing passion for the music of Lady Gaga and 6-year old Simon with his severe hearing loss, well they’re all completely ordinary. The only thing extraordinary about Sam and Dean is how they fell in love.Written for 2010 spn_j2_bigbang challenge ao3.org/series/34151 my thoughts: mundane AU of domestic bliss. I honestly didn’t think I’d love this but I loved this. Their love is warm and their kids are interesting+cute, just an awesome story. Also in my Mundane AU reclist.

Category: J2 Model of the Solar System by Compo67. WARNING: incomplete (but I still read it and I don’t regret it), 80k words, NC-17, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. Summary: In a dystopian world, Jared struggles to survive. Bookers and patrol are out to get people like him on the streets. Shelter and food are difficult to come by, especially in his condition. He meets a stranger who gets more involved than he should–everything changes. ao3.org/works/1241242 my thoughts: I went into this fic without looking at all the tags and just free-spiriting the read, you know what I mean? Like fantasy stories you’re just like “author, take the wheel” sometimes. And holy macaroni Compo67 drives us into a hell of a bleak, violent, dystopian world that peppers just enough love and hope into the story that it kept me devouring every damn word. Really harrowing depictions of homelessness (with a violent police force that has an open agenda to target the homeless no less) but then the most poignant depictions of unabashedly affectionate father-son love between Jensen and Jared's child in the midst of it. With this fic, you don’t find yourself pining for the slow burn of love so much as the slow burn of hope that Compo67 so artfully weaves into their world, characters, and plot.

When the World Ends; That Is When We Begin by truelyesoteric. Rated R, Jensen/Jared, 11k. Summary: Civilization as they knew it ended. That is all it took for them to admit what they really wanted. ao3.org/works/612790 my thoughts: Fantastic world-building about the zombie apoc and the poignancy of J2 reuniting after it. J2 aren’t AU original characters like all the rest of these recs - their wives+kids get dead - but they’re not named and it didn’t feel mean or anti-wife/family to me. Author did a great job showing them as so hardened and battered but coming alive again with each other. Excellent fic. PS also Dean's kid is his adopted 'ward' in the camp. Also in my zombie apocalypse reclist

[jossambird]

The Scent on your coat P4

Summary: You reflect on your life choices, and despite your wants, Life had other plans for you.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: NS/FW Subjects, No Doc in this Chapter (or is there) but building to the next part, mentions of emotional Reader, heartbreak, yearning for things you can’t have.

Ao3 Fic Link for previous parts, or on my masterlist!

-

“I've only ever wanted you.” You repeated into the silence of your apartment, barely listening to the news that played on tv. Images of various villains flittered on the screen, your eyes falling on the one face you couldn’t stop seeing behind your eyelids. You shut the tv off with a huff, eyes watering at the whole mess.

Hands slinging your blanket over your back, you bundled yourself up and sat in bed, pulling your other blanket over your legs and feet. You couldn’t even begin to find the correct words for just how much you had missed Otto.

Even after all this time, Otto remained as handsome as he had been the last time you had seen him all those dreadful months ago. His soft brown hair that shined red in the sunlight, his gorgeous brown eyes that used to always seek you out in a crowd.

You sighed, replaying his words in your mind. Did he mean everything he had said? He had never been a liar, that you knew…

For weeks after his accident, you had thought him dead. For months, you had listened to the radio and new outlets, slandering his work and very career once he had emerged, tentacles and all, turning to a life of crime.

How long had you mourned him, mourned the fragile friendship you had had together, mourned his work but most importantly, mourned your love for him? It had taken weeks, months even, to finally be able to step back into this laboratory and work, and not be pitied by every living soul here.

They had all known of your deep and dark secret, the love you had held so dear for the Scientist, but stayed silent.. all except for one.

Peter Parker. Sweet Peter Parker, always there for you no matter, always asking if you needed help or a shoulder to cry on, always asking how you were holding up with everything.

It had been Peter, of all people, who had saved you from the endless internal darkness that had started to consume you slowly but surely, depression sinking its claws into you and pushing you towards dangerous thoughts.

He, who had asked you if you wanted to go see a movie together. He, who had walked you home every night afterwards, only ever smiling and offering his arm whilst you tried to say it was okay.

He, who had tentatively asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend that one summer night after a quiet walk, knowing full well how your heart held a part of itself for another.

It was he, who had kissed your lips, reassuring you that he understood what it felt like, having already lost the love of his life too.

And so, telling yourself that maybe this was what you needed to finally forget Octavius, you had given him a chance; slowly taking your time together and learning about one another, becoming closer and closer by the passing day.

Peter’s secret identity hadn't been kept from you long after you noticed Spiderman arriving at your Oscorp to walk you home, just like Peter did. He had practically fallen off a building when you asked out loud if he was done stalking you like a creep, his laugh echoing softly in the noisy New York streets.

“Aren’t you afraid a villain will come and kidnap me Pe- Spiderman?” You had asked him, grinning even though your heart clenched at the idea of *one* villain kidnapping you. Thoughts like those were burned and shooed away, trying to focus on the good and kind man that loved you.

“Don’t worry, Ill always protect you Y/N.” He assured you with a whisper, bowing his head as you stepped inside your shared apartment complex.

You had come to love him too, in a way, over time.

Your first time together was the moment you realized your heart was irreparable; Peter’s hands were on your hips, holding you softly as he fucked you but in that moment, another man’s name found itself on your lips, a name all too familiar to you, trying to make its way out and into the air between you. You hadn’t let it, swallowing both it and your shame down, sorrow coursing through you as Peter called out your name.

A few days later, on an early September day, as you turned away from the amazing view from your apartment window, the wind blowing your hair from your face, you had felt it; Nervous energy in the air, shudders wracking your body.

Peter Parker asked you to marry him on the same balcony moments after.

No amount of preparation would have ever prepared you for the absolute heartbreak you had felt as the man before you wore bruises shaped like claws, deep cuts and barely fading scars, crooked grin smiling up at you with a ring in hand, waiting.

“I know I’m not him, and you aren’t her, but I'd like to love you for the rest of my life.”

You had sobbed under the loud noise of the shower until the water turned cold, and after.

Though now, sitting here alone in your living room, you wondered why life sought to hurt you so.

Soon you would be married to a sweet man who loved you, adored you, and all fantasies of the tall Doctor Octavius would have to be forgotten and erased.

You sighed again, burying your face into your blanketed hands, trying to will yourself to stop feeling this way. Peter deserved someone who loved him with all their heart, not someone who craved another and had let said man eat them out in their previous work place.

A knock sounded at your front door and you frowned, standing, wrapped in your blankets still, to answer.

Would it be possible… that he would come? Would he knock on the door, or simply open it, hands seeking you out and untying your robe, touching what he had already accidentally claimed?

As you turned the handle and opened the door, your inner shame grew, eyes landing on the smiling face of your best friend Allie.

“Thought Id come see how the bride-to-be was feeling! How- Oh my god Y/N what's wrong?” Allie said in a rush as she saw tears form in your beautiful eyes, stepping inside in a hurry to comfort you. You could barely let out a sob, let alone words, arms wrapping around the woman.

“Y/N, babydoll, what's going on? You can talk to me, you know that right? Nothing leaves this room, only between you and me.” Your best friend whispered, holding you tightly.

She pulled away, arms still wrapped around you but just enough to see your face, and you knew she had figured it out, knew she had pieced it together. “Oh, Y/N… It’ll be okay, it’ll go away.”

What Allie failed to know though, was that you didn’t want it to go away, still feeling his soft but firm fingers holding your thighs and ankles, kisses laid against your skin.

You didn’t want your love for Otto Octavius to disappear, just like the words of love and adoration groaned along your thighs and core, expressive brown eyes seeking yours out in desperation. Desperate for what, you still didn’t know, but it made your heart race, thinking that the renowned Doctor Octavius and villain Doctor Octopus wanted to see you reach ecstasy by his hand and his alone, desperate for only his name to find itself on your tongue.

And you felt even more horrible for it.

*

Allie held you close, blankets wrapped around the both of you as she flicked through channels on TV.

“Want to talk about it?” She whispered, eyes still trailed on the TV but you knew her attention was solely on you.

What was there to say in a situation like this?

“No.” You croaked out, snuggling closer against her in an effort to forget everything, forget the outside world, forget the fact that the very man you wanted most of all was also somewhere out there. You weren’t surprised when Allie sighed, the sound of the TV shutting off. She laid down beside you, worried eyes gazing back at you.

“You know, it's not…” Allie paused, breath caught in her throat at the sight of you.

“It's not abnormal for marriages to be cancelled.” She continued, her eyes flickering over your face for a sign that you were understanding her meaning. You could barely breathe as she waited, the implication of her words sounding out.

“Allie thats- Peter, he-“ you tried, heart breaking at the idea of telling Peter you could no longer marry him. Allie, the beautiful thing she was, faked a gag and rose up, sitting beside you.

“Y/N, forget Pete for the moment okay? He doesn’t exist right here, right now.” She started, turning back towards your surprised visage with a finger pointed at you.

“I will always be here for you. I know you aren’t happy… I just want you to know that it’s never too late to cancel anything.”

You cried that night, silently into your pillow, never acknowledging the words she had spoken. Allie remained with you for the next few days, never uttering another word of the subject she had begun, helping you instead prepare for your wedding.

That night, you dreamt of large hands pulling you close and whispers of love pressed against your breast, heartbeat steady as he asked the one thing you could never lie about:

“Do you love me, Y/N? Me, and only me?” He whispered, lips moving against your collarbone, heated kisses following his words.

“I've only ever loved you.” You whispered back and watched the Otto before you smile, his hold turning bruising.

*

New York, even at night, was never silent. Noises could be heard everywhere and anywhere, people out and about, some heading home and some heading out.

Allie liked the hustle and bustle of the town, always eager to find a new Hole-in-the-wall type of bar or restaurant to get drunk in, and tonight, after saying she wanted to make you feel better with sushi, hadn’t been any different. She hummed under her breath and dutifully followed you back to your apartment, the both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

Convenience store bags in hand, you looked back at Allie as she wobbled, her steps mismatched, a half empty beer can in hand.

“Come on Al, we're almost there!” You laughed, watching her try to Hopscotch along the street. She stopped, eyes wide and smile even wider, throwing the beer can into the air and away from the both of you, making you cringe as it hit the ground.

“Oh my god- Was that a laugh!?” She yelled happily, the smell of beer and sake wafting off of her as she ran up beside you and held you close, arms trapped in her hold. You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend, mouth opening to chastise her for littering but you didn’t have the time; a faint melody met both your ears and Allie beamed, disentangling herself from you. You barely had time to register what song it was before she leaned away, breathing in sharply and letting loose.

“You should have bought her flowers!” She sang out, words echoing in the streets around you. Sang was perhaps too kind of a word though, as she scratchily belted out Bruno Mars lyrics.

“Shh! Oh my god Allie, shhhhhhh! Shut up!” You tried, running after her as she continued back to your apartment complex, uncaring of the people passing you by.

“You should’ve held her hand! Should’ve given her all your hours!” You barely made it in time to her, free hand rising to try and quiet her, heart racing as you imagined someone hearing-

“But now she’s marrying another man!”

Her words felt like a bath of freezing cold water, any remnants of alcohol in your system instantly evaporating.

She was right. You were, and no matter what fantasies and dreams you liked to imagine, you knew that life couldn’t continue like this, childishly hoping and wishing for another man to come sweep you up.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

hii!!!

i just wanted to say thank you so much for all of your writing!!

the past month has been really really rough for me and the only thing thats gotten me through is reading your work.... i ummm might actually have read through every single work you have on ao3 😅 the way you write is just incredible, i love the personal touch added to everything you write.

its funny because i think you truly excel at writing novels with detailed lore and backstories but my favourites are the cute domestic ones where theyre just neighbours or roommates or whatever. the way you write apartment living is so obviously drawn for your own real perspective in the best way possible and feels so real that i couldnt help but constantly agree with everything you were saying.

your dialog is so natural and fluid i often forget im reading tbh and you never write perfect people, theyre always realistic and fucked up and flawed and amazing. i always believe the world you write around them, and i constantly found myself at the edge of my seat at 5am desperate to know how the fuck they would fix everything.

i appreciate that you take the time to add the trigger warnings in the notes of each chapter, i always felt like i was prepared for what was ahead, or if something was too heavy before going in so i could walk away or go to sleep until i was slightly more ready.

i have maybe accidentally left a few essays in the comments of some of your fics already but i just wanted to let you know at the end of my journey (for now until you write more because frankly im obsessed and will probs go reread something after this just to fill the void) how much your writing has meant to me <3 thank you so much i cant imagine the amount of time, effort and love goes into writing so many full-length novels for free in such a short time span <3

Hello Anon! 

I’m really sorry to hear you’ve been going through a hard time lately, I hope that things have improved since you sent in this message ❤ And if you were able to find an escape even for a few minutes in any of my fics, I’m really glad I was able to help you, even if just a little bit 💕💕

Thank you so much for your kind words ;~; I’m so glad that you enjoyed both the lore-based fics as well as the slice-of-life fics XD And that’s good that it’s realistic enough to obviously stem from real life haha. I’ll be honest some things are fading from memory though (I legit cannot remember how periods in school work, but like, I don’t feel like I should have forgotten that??? I think I just purged school from memory because it was awful HAHA) 

And thank youuuuuu!! I have so much fun with dialogue orz I try sometimes not to write too much of it because I know I write it a lot but it’s just really fun to me XD And everyone’s got flaws, no matter how perfect we all think we are pfft ;) 

I find sometimes something needs to be warned about without being a legit tag, so the end note warnings are the easiest way I found to do that, especially in situations where it’s a spoiler. That way people can read safely without worrying about being triggered because I’m defo not about that |D 

You are seriously so sweet, thank you so much ;~; I’m seriously so glad you enjoyed my stuff and I hope that you keep finding things to enjoy in the fandom as a whole because it’s a fun one :3 Thank you so much for the lovely message, and for any essays you left me on Ao3 <3<3<3<3<3<3<3