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lxnarphase · 5 months ago

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PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him.

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..."

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

#geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black y/n #black reader #geto x black reader #geto x black y/n #🔮 ── suguru.#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ

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mell0wjello · 3 months ago

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𝓣𝓦𝓢𝓣 !𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦! 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 !

~~~~~~

DNI If you’re uncomfortable with these topics !

𝓞𝓬𝓽𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮 𝓿𝓮𝓻 !

~~~~~~

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒��𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

he cums ink. salty and fishy taste. very hard to get the stain off.

Usually tops but he's very vocal

I think it would be funny if he pulled out a consent form each time you guys were getting hot

Very big on safewords. He wants to make sure you're ok

Azul needs to hold your hands throughout to feel you hold him back, making him feel so safe in such an intimate setting

Slower but deeper thrusting

Honestly I feel that underneath everything, he's a very romantic person. He really understands that this should be a pleasurable experience for you both.

I feel that he's definitely a setting-the-mood person. He'd light candles, turn the lights down low, and maybe even play a little bit of music

It would take trust and time for Azul to let you show him his merform, let alone let you touch him in it. However, it'll feel much better for him when you do.

He puts his tentacles to good use. He can give you stimuli in 9 different ways now. Seeing you enjoy makes him so grateful and happy, he can't help but enjoy it too.

𝒥𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽

He’d be so cruel and unfair

He’d grab you by the hair and choke you down on his length just to hear you struggling to take on his size

He’d have you ride him, even though he knows you’ll struggle and need his help

He'll be praising your efforts with that sadistic smile of his

Jade can be very gentle with you, praising you for your hard work, and very rough too, pulling your hair when you whine too much.

Merman cum is different from human cum. It's slimier and has a clearer transparency, kind of like gelatin. It's usually deeper blue, but Jade's a little lighter.

Jade likes tying you up shibari style, and he's also become quite skilled at it with experience. Bondage is normally something that's usually done in his merform, so he loves bringing it to his human form too.

Jade still isn't quite accustomed to human clothing, so it's still a bit uncomfortable and unusual for him. When the both of you are alone he'll often take something off

Jade has a bit of an oral fixation. He's obsessed with seeing your mouth full and working.

Jade is not quiet, but he's not exactly vocal. If he's not praising or talking to you, it'll often be small sounds.

𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽

He changes positions so often. In between and in the middle of rounds.

Drive depends on his mood, so it fluctuates greatly

Size kink. Especially in his merform, it’d turn him on so much to see how tiny you were compared to him.

Kinkiest mf ever. He’ll be down for quite literally anything as long as he’s in the mood

I feel like he'd fixate on specific kinks or fetishes for like, a week, and completely forget about them afterwards until his new obsession

He's a switch, but he prefers domming most of the time

He’d shave this week and forget the next

Salty and bitter with a thicker consistency

In his merform, Floyd wraps his tail on anything he can. Your legs, your waist, in the right position he could even go for your neck.

Floyd can get real chatty when he's close. He'll go on about anything just for the sake of it

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nerdyfan1 · 4 months ago

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Ok guess talking about A New Wish again cus I got invested lol

Anyways maybe it’s a me thing (it’s definitely a me thing) but, I do get a little sad when ppl act like Peri doesn’t care about or straight up hates Dev. I’ve seen a few rbs and tweets it’s not a lot but, it did make me think about this. See I actually got the opposite impression of what we’ve seen of the dynamic. Peri cares a bunch for the kid and Dev doesn’t dislike him just still struggling to trust him. We’ve seen him take awhile to trust ppl and let his mask down for Hazel. She also seems to be the only one who got to him so far.

So Peri is going through what a lot of parents do, ending up with a kid they weren’t prepared for. Bro seems mostly tired. If anything I feel if Peri was to be mad at anyone it not be Dev, it be the fairy department who assigned him a very obviously tougher case that a newbie as himself wasn’t equipped to handle. Dev by no means is a bad kid but, he’s more complicated compared to his god kid counterpart in Hazel. She definitely has her own issues (hence why Cosmo and Wanda wanted to help her) but, she’s more well adjusted than what’s going on with lil Dimmadome over there.

I’ve seen someone mentioned Peri was screwed over by the Fairy Department here which I 100% agree with. In fact I’ll go a step further and say they both were. Just like Peri should have been given a kid who he could more reasonably handle Dev should have gotten a gotten a fairy that had more experience so they could properly handle his issues. Yet despite all this I actually like that they were paired up this way.

It was a unfair yes but, also really irrelevant thinking about this. Cus given how the episodes been going so far I definitely see these two having an arc about Peri learning to appreciate his parents while letting them know he’s his own man now. While Dev is gonna learn to continue to open himself up to others. Eventually growing to trust Peri and see him as a dad. You given who his actual dad is like.

I take these two so seriously guys. I don’t think I’ve seen a fairy and god kid relationship like this. Most of them are usually at least got along relatively well. Honestly no not here. Peri and Dev pair up feels like it is set up to fail yet the idea they still in the end up making it work and get to see each other eye to eye is great. I have a strong feeling that where this is heading.

I’ll give them a bit and they’ll be like the sweetest adopted father and gay son dynamic. 💞

Edit: Wtf where all these notes coming from? I’m at least glad to see ppl agree with me here. I’m beyond happy he got Peri btw. Even if in universe it probably was a mess up or The Fairy Department fucking shit up lol

#fairy odd parents #fairly oddparents a new wish #a new wish #fop a new wish #fop #fop peri #fop poof #fop dev #dev dimmadome #story prediction #character analysis #sorry I’m probably using the wrong tags lol #idk what tags are used more for this series

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somewhereincairparavel · 8 months ago

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Alright. I came across someone saying that Rick "put Jason in a pedestal" and "overhyped" him by emphasizing how good looking he is and that Jason shouldn't have been so attractive looking. (Tbf tho that person made it sound like they seemed more mad bc their least favourite character was considered good looking lol) but I'll yap about the significance here anyways. Beware of a very long yapping session below.

I do understand their frustration though, because jason getting told that he looks good all the time makes it seem very shallow and unfair to the others.

And let me tell you, Jason is SUPPOSED to be gorgeous looking in everyone's eyes. He is supposed to be conventionally handsome, Rick didn't intend for his looks to be "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " or something like Percy's (like how Piper didn't find him as impressive) Percy's is supposed to be more authentic. Percy's character isnt centred in people idolizing him, everyone can acknowledge that he's handsome looking, but it isn't in a "perfect" type of way, he's a carefree spirit and that reflects on his looks. While Jason is hardwired as this ethereal looking hero in people's eyes that not even ONE can deny that he looks good, bc ppl in Rome had set him as the "standard". Jason said this before in the lost hero, that him being a son of Jupiter, makes him feel like the support he gets is only because his dad is a very regal and intimidating figure.

That's kind of the whole point, he's supposed to look like this perfect man who can do no wrong. His "Golden noble boy" arc is literally the whole concept of his character. Why else do you think rick wrote Aphrodite approving of Jason's looks saying that he needed no improvement (which she rarely does) ?

Because Jason is supposed to be put like a statue to admire and idolize, that's ALSO why rick made sure to add that Jason looks like a Roman sculpture, bc that's like a metaphor for his inner conflicts. The guy was put like an artifact for people to ogle at in camp Jupiter ever since he was a kid of 4. That's part of the tragedy.

Annabeth said it perfectly “Annabeth tried to hide it, but she still didn’t completely trust the guy. He acted too perfect - always following the rules, always doing the honorable thing. He even looked too perfect. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging thought. What if this is a trick and he betrayed us?” Mark of Athena, page 6.

His mother, whom he's supposed to look like, is also a literal world wide tv actress. So you can't expect anything less either.

Also, Jason is supposed to mirror Percy. And let's be real. Rick put Percy in a VERY high pedestal looks wise, aswell, Not just Jason. And that's okay.

Rick made Hazel mistake Percy for a literal god because he was just that good looking (tbf, in a way, when I was younger, I found this to be a little bit of an exaggeration, bro was covered in mud and seaweed and was compared to a god, it was rlly funny to a 10 year old me 😭 yeah but don't mind this though, this was just a younger me jealous that I couldn't be as pretty as Percy was in mud lol) If Percy can be "hyped" up so "unrealistically" in that particular situation then so can Jason. They are both literal half gods, so unrealistic praise is very normal) and rick also made sure to emphasize that almost all the teen characters had a crush on Percy. So apparently that isn't called putting a character in a pedestal but Jason's is? They are BOTH put in pedestals, because they're both heroes.

Jason and Percy are supposed to be equals, so both of them being in the top two when it comes to looks makes SENSE. Because people are supposed to argue about who is better looking, since they're written as foils.

You cannot expect rick to make Percy look like a god and Jason look like a rat 😭 then there's no point of having them as parallels if one has the upper hand in something. Rick did a good job by conveying that they are BOTH attractive, but in different ways. That's why the Percy/Jason looks debate always have mixed answers.

Jason getting complimented by Aphrodite, the GODDESS of beauty, for his looks and her saying that he didn't have anything to "fix" in his face BC it already looks gorgeous = Percy getting compared to a gorgeous Roman god by hazel. They are both equal comparisons in slightly different tones.

#why do y'all beef at Jason for being hot like bro it's not that serious. Let him be as hot as he wants pls #why do you want him to look “ordinary” so bad like it would strip off the significance #😭 put your personal bias against jason away from this discussion.#Percy doesn't need to be the only attractive looking guy in pjo #pjo series #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo hoo #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #hoo

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oldmanjenkins985 · 1 month ago

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So, I wanted to talk about something since MD Twitter in particular seems to be having some issues with a current trend in the MD fandom. That being the Panic AU by @candyasbestos (apologies in advance for the ping, just felt like maybe you'd wanna see this)

So I'd like to start right off the bat by saying anyone who is uncomfortable with this AU is completely reasonable for being that way. It's more so that uncomfortableness leading to disdain for the AU that I wanna talk about.

So, I'm a horror fan. I watch plenty of things on horror movies and play plenty of horror games. And what exactly does horror media try and do? Make the player horrified and uncomfortable. Seeing grotesque imagery which may make you wanna vomit. One of the games that comes to mind for something that's definitely meant to make people uncomfortable and not just scared is Fear & Hunger. It's a game with incredibly uncomfortable imagery, sometimes due to gore and other times due to sexual themes. And it's perfectly reasonable for that to turn people off, yet I've never seen anyone have the kind of reaction to stuff like that compared to the reactions some people have had to the Panic AU

And that's the thing with the Panic AU, it makes *N* uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with himself due to Nyx's influence on him. That is the entire point of the AU it seems. And Nyx himself seems to be some kind of representation of mental illness (pretty standard horror trope, I know). I'm not an expert in the subject despite dealing with it quite a bit so I won't name any specific mental illnesses it could be, but it's clear to me Nyx is some kind of urge of N's.

I've made plenty of characters like Nyx for my original works that are also meant to be representations of mental illness. Voices that whisper to you to do terrible things, creatures that make you feel worthless and shut down, etc. I make these not only because I find them scary but also as reflections of my own experience with mental illness. And it's that first point again that makes me question people's reactions to it.

People have said "It's grossly out of character for N" and stuff like that which...honestly that makes me think they only saw the initial wave of art and don't really know how N feels about the whole situation. But the other thing is that so many AUs have intentionally mischaracterized N because of what the AU is. And I'm not talking just swap AUs, I've seen plenty where N's character is wildly different because of the circumstances of the AU. And I see the Panic AU no different.

I also saw another comment of someone saying "We shouldn't normalize behavior like this" and again, I question whether the person has actually researched the thing they're talking about. Nyx, the thing that makes everyone uncomfortable, is very clearly the *villain* of the AU. He killed Uzi, he wants N to kill Thad, he's a horrid little creature. Are villains not meant to do things we disdain? Murder, torture, etc. It's prefectly understandable these things would make people uncomfortable, but isn't that what many villains do? There's plenty of media with torture scenes in them which make people uncomfortable, but that's the point! Hell, some kid shows have torture scenes. What about the Lich's design from Adventure Time? He's a rotting corpse! In a kid show! His design is clearly meant to make the viewer uncomfortable.

So again, while I don't think anyone is in the wrong for being uncomfortable due to the AU, I think many of the criticisms are unfair. A piece of media which is specifically designed to make people uncomfortable should not be criticized for that very reason. Avoid it all you want, that's completely reasonable! Never feel like your reasons for being uncomfortable are unwarrented. But I'm just saying that if you were to critique Silent Hill because it's themes of mental illness and character depictions made you uncomfortable, and that was a *negative*, it just seems a little weird to me.

This is all just my opinion, obviously I'm not THE definitive person on the matter. And I'm not saying anyone who has the AU blocked or anything should check it out. I'm just saying, many people seem to be judging it unfairly.

#murder drones #mdpanicau

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jesncin · 3 months ago

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Caped Crusader, "Safe Diversity", and Catwoman

We're at a point where it's expected that a new incarnation of any story previously with a white-dominated cast would be reimagined with a "more diverse" cast. This can mean racebending them, genderbending them or making them queer, but for the purposes of this analysis we'll be focusing on racebends. Most of the time, executives will take the "safer" routes with diversifying their cast- pick a couple of unproblematic supporting characters to be incidentally "diverse this time". Other times, there might be "braver" takes where more prominent characters (perhaps even the main character) are racebent. This doesn't necessarily mean racebending prominent characters is an inherently better thing to do.

I've been more than critical of MAWS' portrayal of BIPOC characters but especially their Asian Lois before. Sometimes BIPOC representation is just a decorative palette-swap change for these shows. Caped Crusader however, is different. It's more complicated- but it's rooted in very similar problems. Unlike MAWS (though I can only speak for S1), CC is far more willing to take on political topics: classism, sexism, police corruption and brutality, even beauty standards in the entertainment industry! Yet, in choosing to portray these topics in their stylistically anachronistic 30s-40s set piece- it makes it so the show's reluctance to discuss race intersecting with any of these topics far more apparent.

(spoilers for all of Caped Crusader)

Take for instance, episode 2: "...And Be A Villain". The story is about Basil Karlo, a less than handsome actor who wishes his appearance wasn't holding him back from both love and playing roles saved for better looking people. He makes a deal with Jack Ellman, an experimental makeup artist who turns him into Clayface. This story is set in motion when Miss Yvonne Francis, a beautiful actress, goes missing. Miss Francis is a woman of color (brown skinned, unspecified) played by Lacey Chabert: a white actress. CC goes for a generally colorblind casting what with Stephie (a white girl) being voiced by Amari McCoy (a Black actress) but it always feels icky when a white actor voices a character of color. Prominent characters of color in CC are more accurately casted. However I do think animation should be wary of using their medium to get away with their show appearing more diverse than the actual talent behind it.

The episode's theme is pretty clear on how unfair the entertainment industry is in regards to who it prioritizes in leading roles. Basil is constantly emphasized as a tragically talented actor whose appearance is holding him back. "With your talent you should be a leading man, Basil." Yvonne says to Basil in a flashback. Meanwhile as Alfred is watching through movie clips featuring Yvonne and Basil together, he comments "while lovely to look at, Miss Francis is no Gloria Swanson." So Yvonne has the looks, but not the talent and still gets prestigious roles because that's showbiz. The only time this is weirdly inconsistent is when Yvonne calls out Basil/Clayface in the finale, saying:

"I don't believe your performance. You're chewing on scenery. Relying on makeup effects to enhance weak characterization. It's insincere, Basil. It's not real."

I honestly feel like this scene was just meant to quickly "subvert" Yvonne being a damsel in distress by having her call out Basil's acting. It's a moment that isn't reinforced by anything the episode set up. After all, according to Alfred, she's not as good an actor compared to Basil. That's supposed to be how they foil each other, so this moment feels unmotivated. Again, I get what they're going for, that Basil's performance ironically relies on his newfound appearance so much that even a bad actress like Yvonne can spot his meager acting. But it doesn't work when our protagonists were actually convinced by his imitation of others. She's still a damsel in distress character regardless of her having a bit of attitude when calling her captor out.

What I don't understand is: why make Yvonne a woman of color if this was the story you wanted to tell? It's not like they're paying homage to how her voice actress looks, after all. Why, in your story set in purposely anachronistic 30s-40s era noir, did the character who was meant to represent the epitome of "not talented but gets by the industry because of her conventional beauty and pretty privilege" a woman of color? We're missing the very obvious conversation here where Tinsel Town is a white industry with white biases to what it considers attractive. It doesn't matter how many attractive actors of color exist, they're still pigeon holed into stereotyped and often racist roles (especially back then), and have to work twice as hard to get the opportunities their white colleagues get. Why is Basil, a white man, the only one afforded a marginalized narrative when Yvonne is quite literally a woman of color right next to him? The episode is especially painful to sit through when Basil is afforded so much sympathy compared to Yvonne.

"He didn't have the right look. He didn't have the right face."

"The camera is kind to some, but cruel to others."

This is transparently a colorblind narrative. Yvonne is written and even casted as a white woman. The CC crew just decided she should be a WOC likely because "wouldn't it be neat if the beautiful actress in this story is POC" without thinking about how that would drastically change a narrative already critical of the showbiz industry based on appearances. It's not intersectional and flattens the narrative to being selective of the prejudices Tinsel Town has. This episode is a great example to what CC generally does with diversity. It's not afraid to be critical of society, but it gets oddly squeamish with discussing how race intersects with these topics- opting mostly for a palette-change type of representation.

It's not entirely fair to say CC doesn't ever touch on the topic of racism. It sort of does: if you read between the lines for why the mayor gives Jim Gordon his commissioner role, and more prominently with the Gentleman Ghost (a rich aristocrat ghost that steals from the poor, believing wealth is his right) being offended that his mansion is sold to Lucius Fox (saying "and you would sell it to rabble like this?")- racism is somewhat present in the world of CC. We see the women in this show experience misogyny, but it's ambiguous if any of their struggles are intersectional with that of race. But that's... just about it. Racism isn't discussed more than it is alluded to, whenever the writers decide it's relevant. Because of this, CC has a spectrum of hits and misses when it comes to integrating characters of color in their reimagined cast.

Here's how I would visualize that spectrum using canonized instances of Asian Lois Lane. I should emphasize that representation of people of color doesn't entail the narrative owing us "a racism arc" or what have you. This spectrum is more used to measure how much racial identity was integrated in the characterization of the character: whether that be cultural identity or history. Being a person of color isn't just "person who goes through racism".

This is how I'd personally place the prominent characters of color in CC on my "spectrum of racebends" chart. Generally most of the characters of color (whether reimagined that way or were originally POC already) are fairly harmless in how they were integrated into CC's world, but none of the characters feel bespoke as a reimagining of the character and are interchangeable with their white counterparts. To quote cartoonist Juni Ba (in a discussion on CC):

"...stripping characters of color in these time period stories of any cultural, [a]esthetic or social signifiers that’d make them true to the groups being represented. Instead they dress, act and speak very western."

In my opinion, the only character that is an exception to this is Linton Midnite (or as he's popularly known as: "Papa Midnite"). Midnite is a character so interlinked with Haitian culture and mysticism that even CC couldn't erase that aspect of his identity (important note: historically, the portrayal of Midnite since his creation is riddled in racism, but that's not my place to discuss here). Midnite at most speaks with an accent, dresses more nonconformingly compared to the western standard dress of all the other characters, and practices occultish stuff (though I don't think there was anything culturally specific in that episode, please correct me otherwise if someone has more insight!). That's a lot more cultural representation than just about any other character of color in CC. Midnite can't be changed to a white character, his African identity is too interlinked with who he is.

There are a few characters I consider in poor taste to be POC- that being Arnold Flass, Yvonne Francis (who we've covered already), and Harley Quinn (who will be getting her own post, as her case is complicated). So let's talk about cops, then.

I tend to be indifferent about media choosing to diversify cop characters because it feels like choosing the most "respectable to society" role for a marginalized character to play. Cops uphold bigoted systems of power at the end of the day, so that's a very comfortable place to represent your marginalized characters. It's why we keep getting gay or lesbian cops, which Batman media absolutely perpetuates as well with Renee Montoya. It's hard to cheer for two women of color being allowed to date and kiss in public when one of them is a cop, y'know? But this doesn't mean re-imagining cop characters doesn't have narrative merit.

In regards to Jim Gordon being reimagined as a Black cop, I'm gonna refer to La'Ron Readus' video on "Fixing the Batman's Copaganda problem" where he goes into detail about the missed potential of Black!Jim Gordon from Reeves' The Batman (2022). Generally, I felt that opportunity was missed in CC as well. While I love that Barbara Gordon is in CC, nothing about her being a WOC is integrated into this version of her. It felt like if either character was white, the story wouldn't be that different. The bigger issue here is the choice to racebend Arnold Flass- a previously white, blonde, cunningly smart, and brutally corrupt cop.

CC follows some of this in their version of Arnold Flass- he's paired with Harvey Bullock (also a corrupt cop). While Bullock is the brawns of the duo, Flass is the smarts. He's cunning and even implied to be willing to frame Bullock if the worse comes to it. It isn't an inherently bad idea to racebend a corrupt white cop into a Black cop. If the writers want to tell a story about how the police force assimilates people of color into the system and forces them to be just as if not more brutal than their white counterparts, then by all means tell that story.

But that's not what CC gave us. By rarely acknowledging race, we don't get to have a conversation or themes surrounding that delicate intersection of identities. We just have "diverse Flass". Look at these panels from Year One for example, can you imagine how Flass' casual disrespect for Gordon by constantly calling him "Jimmy" could be re-contextualized with a race change? Unlike other characters who just feel like missed opportunities for not integrating race into their characterization, Flass is an elephant in the room. To not acknowledge his race in themes of police corruption and brutality is to white wash the narrative with diverse paint.

I personally think the stronger narrative decision would have been to racebend Bullock as Black instead of Flass. Flass could still be the conniving cop, but he encourages Black!Bullock to be the more "violent brute" who does the dirty work for him. It would put a newfound racial layer to how Flass considers Bullock disposable. Then we could have some kind of commentary on how the police force encourages a system of abuse that makes even fellow POC turn on each other. It'd also make it so a certain scene would be better in optics.

I have many criticisms for the scene where Batman holds a gun to Flass in the finale of CC. It's a narratively unmotivated (see my criticisms for CC's Two Face here for elaboration) and weak moment that relies on metatextual shock value to cover up how underdeveloped this take on Batman is. But it's also just very uncomfortable optics-wise. It's a common and valid criticism that Batman as a character can very easily fall into copaganda, with his status, goals, and collaboration with the police force. In many ways, Batman is often written to be committing his own kind of vigilante police brutality.

Caped Crusader wants to be a deconstruction of a Batman tied to power and hellbent on his mission to eliminate crime. But because CC occasionally omits race from its narrative, the scene where Batman holds a gun to a Black cop-a man stripped of his ability to fight back-just falls flat for me. There's no acknowledgement in this scene that Batman basically gets to be an anonymous cop, "warning shots" and all. Batman shoots at an unarmed Black man several times. It's meant to be shocking to us how Bruce is willing to stoop to such a level and indulge in gratuitous gun violence, but it honestly hits too close to real incidents where this is racially the case for me to enjoy the narrative point of this scene.

You know a character who would be perfect for calling out Batman's many privileges? Selina Kyle. Let's talk about Caped Crusader's biggest downgrade.

I've heard just about all the arguments in favor for CC's reimagining of Catwoman and none have convinced me that this was in any way a good take on the character. I see people saying that this Catwoman is a return to her golden age roots, and there's a lot of misconception surrounding that assumption. So bear with me as looking at Catwoman's history is necessary to discuss race and how a character evolves.

Catwoman debuted in the 1940s as a jewel thief who disguised herself as an old lady. She was just called "The Cat" and would not don her more feline appearance until later. True to the mystery woman femme fatale trope she was inspired by, her backstory was left unknown for a long time. 10 years later, in Batman #62 it is revealed that after a plane accident bonked her head, the now named Selina Kyle got amnesia and went on a crime spree. Giving her leeway to reform and be an ally to Batman. This would historically inform how Selina Kyle toed the line between good and evil as an anti-hero.

Her origin would be revisited in 1983, in the Brave and the Bold #197. Although not canon to the mainline universe, it is still a crucial development for her character's history. In this story, Selina reveals that she lied about having amnesia to get out of facing punishment. Her true story was that she entered a life of crime to escape an abusive relationship with a rich man. The only loss her husband understood was material loss, loss of property, so stealing was how Selina fought back.

This crucial re-examination of her character transformed her from shenanigans inducing femme fatale, to a marginalized fighter. Shortly later in 1987 in Batman Year One, Catwoman is reimagined as a street-hardened sex worker in poverty. She is inspired by the Batman to become a vigilante for her own goals and gets annoyed that she's assumed to be his sidekick.

The moment Catwoman became marginalized by power, was the point where she became worthy of solo-character status. She was not only a compelling foil to Batman-capable of going toe to toe with him and make him question his motives even though she did not share his privilege-she could lead her own adventures reflecting a side of Gotham Bruce Wayne's perspective doesn't. She actively makes the setting of Gotham stronger because of how she's evolved as a character.

Catwoman's character would continue to evolve, with some iterations reimagining her as a latina woman and others where she's canonically bisexual.

While Catwoman has been portrayed by Black actresses before, I want to focus on the most recent and prominent iteration of a race-swapped Catwoman. When Matt Reeves' The Batman (2022) featured Zoe Kravitz as Selina Kyle, an explicitly biracial character within the text of the story, we see another step this character evolves. I think La'Ron Readus' video on "Why Race-Swapped Characters Are Not The Full Story" does a fantastic job of explaining why this is a narratively great race swap. To summarize (though I do encourage watching his video as he goes into depth about 2022 Batman's Jim Gordon as well among many other examples) and add analysis of my own: Selina being the byproduct of an Italian crime lord and a Black sex worker is a brilliant marriage of her original backstory (being connected to and abused by powerful men) and her modern backstory where she's poverty stricken (and tangentially related to a sex worker if we're talking about Batman Year One).

We understand why someone of her background would have an affinity for stray cats because of how she lost her mom at a young age, she is sympathetic to fellow people from the lower class, and explicitly calls out privileged white people- including Batman who attempted to over moralize Selina's partner as a sex worker.

"All anyone cares about in this place, are these white privileged assholes."

It's especially that last line that makes it so Selina's character isn't interchangeable with her white counterpart. She's a textually rich character to contrast Bruce in Batman 2022, and we can see how years of history and evolution has brought such an empathetic character to the screen. Interestingly, Readus feels that while 2022 Selina was an example of a race-swap that works, he believes it was great by coincidence, because of the miss that was Gordon's characterization in the same movie. I think with Reeves as a collaborator on Caped Crusader, that assumption was correct.

Selina in CC is back to being a rich socialite, but (unlike her Golden Age counterpart) she's not married into wealth- she's got generational wealth (with a dad serving jail time for tax evasion). Worse yet, she's taking what little remains of her money and spending it on superficially imitating the Batman to create her Catwoman persona. She even has her own reluctant Alfred, a Catmobile, the works. Selina steals things because. She likes shiny things. And is something of a kleptomaniac. Catwoman is instantly discovered to be Selina because of course she's not as good as Batman is with keeping a secret identity (another key difference from her Golden Age counterpart, whose backstory was shrouded in mystery for a decade).

It is laughable to me that CC touts that their version of Harley Quinn has an origin of her own outside of the Joker, only to turn around and make a Catwoman that is completely tied to copying a man as her origin (did they decide Harley's goofyness as a character needed to be replicated in Selina for some reason? In their supposed dark and edgy show?). What a strange choice to fixate on the part in Year One where Selina didn't like being mistaken for Batman's assistant despite being inspired by him and turn it into a quirky bit. It feels like such a regressive take that frames Selina as a sillier, whimsical version of Bruce that just spends money on a whim because women just aren't smart enough to know how to keep track of their money. They're too busy looking for shiny things to steal. The fact that both 2022 Batman and CC have a scene where Selina is looking through her many bills she's yet to pay is wild to me. How am I supposed to care for a Selina that has the expendable wealth to create a Catwoman costume, car, and gadgets, but delay paying her maid? One of these versions of Selina is far more sympathetic than the other.

Again, I get what CC is going for. Batman is characterized to be hellbent on catching criminals, Catwoman is supposed to serve as some kind of reflection of his obsession. They're both self destructive in their goals, but one is vengeance and the other is chasing thrills. But is that really as interesting a foil as having Catwoman be marginalized, just as skilled, and making Batman second guess himself? Is it a take that strengthens Gotham as a setting by shedding light on its lower class characters? Is it a take that makes her worth revisiting as a perpetual rogue and not a one off episode where's she's basically a shenanigans-inducing nuisance to Batman? Evolved takes on Catwoman have talked about her desire to seek thrills and paired it with how she dismantles power. So it's not like CC's take is particularly unique, it just lacks all the depth that usually surrounds Selina's thrill seeking.

In a show that is frankly desperate to make it so Bruce doesn't have a personal relationship to his rogues gallery because he's too busy being "A cold, remorseless avenger of evil, seemingly more machine than man. Forged in the fire of tragedy, every fiber of his being is dedicated to the eradication of crime." (according to promo) that's how we end up with Barbara as the foil and humanity to both Harvey Dent and Harley Quinn. How the show focuses on the police force more than Bruce. It feels especially pointed that Catwoman is characterized this way. When she doesn't contrast Bruce, she becomes less personal to him as a character that is poverty stricken but still matches up to him in skill. She can't challenge him or his worldview, he can't find her fascinating as an equal, all of their chemistry and intrigue is erased.

All this to say that of the characters revealed for CC, I was honestly surprised that Selina wasn't one of the many characters racebent. CC followed up on a Black Jim and Barbara Gordon, two characters that have been race swapped before in previous media. Most prominently! Harley is Asian in this iteration, something never done before. So why is it that Selina doesn't follow up on the many times she's been portrayed by Black actresses?

It's because it's an actual good racebend if written well. It wouldn't be a "safe" racebend because writing Selina this way means you'd have to acknowledge racism, and it would be much more noticeable if you didn't. There is no canonized version of Asian Lois Lane that parallels her relationship to Superman as an immigrant. But there is a version of Selina as a Black woman who directly calls out white people and is aware of systemic power. It's in something as prominent and mainstream as Matt Reeves' 2022 Batman. So instead it just reads as cowardice to me that CC couldn't follow up on this evolution of Selina.

Not only does it weaken Catwoman and Batman's relationship to regress Selina this way, but it actively weakens Gotham as a setting and the very themes of Caped Crusader. I personally think all the energy that went into Harley Quinn should have been shared with (or straight up gone to) Selina Kyle. Because unlike CC's take on Harley, the way Selina Kyle's marginalization intersects with race and queerness would have actually critiqued Gotham's class corruption effectively. As a Black queer woman, Selina would be among the most vulnerable people in Gotham. We don't have prominent characters in CC that truly reflect the lower class, there are these unnamed characters Harvey Dent sits next to on a train. There are some orphans with Batfam names. A proper Catwoman reimagining that takes advantage of her evolution would have filled this gap in their narrative.

But that's not how "safe diversity" works. CC would rather racebend and canonize the queerness of a character like their take on Harley Quinn. A WOC who gets to kiss a cop and call out powerful men, but not in a way that makes white people uncomfortable.

If I could edit the Sandman quote that "The great stories will always return to their original forms" for Superheroes, I'd say "The great stories will always return to their most resonant forms" because without iterations we don't get characters like the Kents, Alfred or Catwoman as we know her today. Classics are good to look to, but we like these characters because they evolve. In my opinion, none of CC's takes on these characters of color feel resonant. They're not definitive to the level of Mister Freeze's tragic love story in BTAS, among many standout narrative choices in BTAS that continue across media iterations.

In my opinion, CC isn't as thoroughly clumsy as MAWS is in regards to POC representation and race-swaps (all characters of color in MAWS get put in the left side of that chart I made. In the Sunken Place. Where they all Missed The Movement). However, I can't help but see Caped Crusader's take on the world of Gotham as nothing more than an anecdote in the evolution of Batman's story for the modern era. "It's BTAS but superficially more diverse and with less compelling narrative choices."

#ramblings #caped crusader spoilers #jesncin talks caped crusader #jesncin dc meta #long post under the cut #catwoman #rememberrr pls be nice these are just my thoughts

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xokohaneazusawa · 5 months ago

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hello i have a bllk request!

so uh today i got hit in the face during PE with a football (we were playing football for PE and i was daydreaming about bllk boys 💀) and i wasn’t paying attention and got hit in the face and got a small cut on my nose 💀.

yet all i could think about was how my favourite characters would be laughing their asses off at me/judging me and the amount that would genuinely be concerned was a bit tragic. 💀

which led me to think of this potential fic idea. inexperienced reader who has probably touched a ball less than 10 times in her life, whose class is required to do football for PE (as much as i love bllk, i could never enjoy playing football myself.)

so anyways, her bf (chigiri, rin, nagi, bachira, isagi, reo, and sae) sees her get hit in the face and is ready to laugh at her, but starts lagging when they see blood. (sweet infirmary scene maybe 😍😍)

reader is absolute dog shit at football due to a lack of experience, compared to him, who’s on the mf school team. (hence why they were in different teams.)

overall i’m just feeling a little mortified over the little accident and i think it’s gonna scar 💀 but watching other ppl, even fictional, suffer with me just makes me feel better lmao. it’s fine if you don’t wanna take this request or shorten the list of characters tho 🫶🫶

(my injured nose hurts as i’m typing this 😭😭)

OMG It’s been a couple days so I hope your nose starts feeling better!! But you're so iconic for thinking about Bllk boys when you’re supposed to be doing something else- Also Anon if you want me to go more into detail about some of the like infirmary and nurse scenes just lmk and I can totally make a part 2 and go into more detail!

Chigiri Hyoma -> Sadly this man did actually laugh at you, but then when he came over to check on you and realized there was actually blood he got a little nervous and did actually take you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else people call it -> Though when he brought you and the nurse said he was fine to go back he almost fought the person working in the nurse's office and they let him stay and keep you company -> He stayed by your side almost the whole time and did make fun of you a little bit, I mean it was a little stupid (HIS WORDS NOT MINE, I've had the same thing happen just with no blood) though he does kinda feel bad that it was somebody on his team that did it, though he won't ever tell you that -> He does eventually, after you stop bleeding, scold you a little for not paying attention, even though you don't know how to play you should at least be paying attention, though if you ask ever so nicely (aka he also hits too it) he'll at least teach you how to defend yourself from being in a situation like that again (It's his way of showing that he cares and doesn't want you getting hurt again<3) Rin Itoshi -> He will rush over immediately, I mean as much as he likes to win he doesn't wanna see you get hurt in the process, he could clearly tell the way the teams were set up was quite unfair, having the good players on one side and the bad ones on the other -> Checks around for injuries, all while grumbling that you should have been paying attention and not off in whatever world you were in -> When he realizes that you're bleeding though he stands you up, not too fast just in case, and takes you over to a teacher, letting them know that he's taking you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else, and then makes sure you get there safe before heading back -> Only goes back because the person working there said it was fine if he did and not because he wanted too, in all honesty he wanted to stay with you to make sure you were okay, as much as he didn't sound or look like it -> tries to take his mind off it by going back and playing more, but going against a team of lukewarm nobodies doesn't quite hit the spot for him so he just ends up worrying even more Nagi Seishiro -> The second that he saw you get hit he waited for a second and when he saw that you didn't bounce back like the people on his team normally did he made a slight effort to move a little faster to go make sure that you were alive still -> When he walked over and saw you were bleeding, he got up and let one of the teachers know, since he wasn't exactly sure what to do. They ended up making him help you to get to the nurse/infirmary/ whatever else, and when get got there he just kinda sat on the chair next to you, even when they told him he should go back to class -> He was kinda over football right then anyway, and he would have much rather stayed with you, way less of a hassle for him away, he would have also had to walk all the way back to the class and that's way to much work -> So instead he just stayed in there with you, and like everybody else kinda scolded you, or more in his case, lazily warned you about not paying attention when football are being passed around Bachira Meguru -> As soon as he witnessed you getting hit in the face with a ball, he laughed. No questions asked. -> Though as he was laughing he came over to check on you, at least to make sure that you were already and when he realized you weren't he quickly stopped laughing and tried to find somebody to get tissues or like really anything -> Gladly took you to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it when the teacher ask him to walk you down/over/up there. He def giggled about you getting hit in the face and was so curious about what you were thinking about before it happened -> Another man who is staying with you, Manz is not leaving until you leave, no matter what person tries to send him back to class -> Also, he's never gonna let you live it down Isagi Yoichi

-> This sweetheart! The second you got hit, he was right by your side (now if this was a match in Blue Lock, eh things would be different, but since he most likely wasn't trying all that hard since it was like people who actually knew how to play vs people that didn't he didn't wanna destroy anybody)

-> He helped you up and grabbed tissues and the whole nine yards, made sure to get you some water and everything like that, even volunteered to take you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it to make sure that you got there safe, and got some water on the way

-> When he got there, def was such a sweetheart to the people who were working and how concerned he looked for you, they didn't even ask him to go back to class, they just let him sit next to you and hold your hand and even almost all let out an "aww" when he would ask how you were every few minutes

-> Though once you started feeling better he would try to explain that you really have to be paying attention when you play, but also give you some help in learning ways to defend yourself against said flying footballs Reo Mikage

-> Another sweetheart, while he did slightly chuckle at you at first, when he jogged over and realized that you were bleeding he started worrying, asking people to grab him basically anything, which knowing Reo's popularity at school everybody scattered to grab something

-> Walked you up/down/over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it, and while he did also laugh on the way, teasing you slightly about if you were thinking about him, he was still pretty worried for your safety

-> Would sit in the infirmary/nurses office/whatever else with you the whole time, making sure that either the bleeding spotted or their wasn't any bruising or anything along those lines

-> Another one who would wait to scold you, he needs to make sure you're okay first, and he will tease you the whole time about getting hit in the face with a ball, and you'll never live it down

Sae Itoshi

-> Brother Like Brother

-> Will wait for a couple seconds just to see if you can take care of yourself, but when he realizes you're bleeding he walks over pretty fast, pushing anybody out of the way

-> Gets somebody to grab some tissues or something, or just anything to stop the bleeding as he takes you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it

-> Unlike his brother, he will stay, even if people tell him to head back. Why would he, it's not like lukewarm players will actually change anything for him

-> The staff might be a little pissed off at him later about his mean comments, but that's an issue for later.

-> He'll also ask every couple minutes if you're okay and if you need anything, but he won't sound as nice as Isagi when saying it. He will also call you dumb for not paying attention and getting hit in the face (but later on he'll also smile and chuckle at the thought)

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #meguru bachira x reader #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #xokohaneazusawa’s writings!

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sanakimohara · 2 months ago

Note

have you seen the way minho grabbed changbin?

[ Oh I saw it alright ;)… ]

[ MEAN DOM ] L. M.

pairing: minho x fem! reader

summary: minho manhandling you and just being a little toxic..

playlist:

type: headcannon / no plot

warnings: MDNI + SMUT + NSFW + IMPLIED DOM/SUB DYNAMIC + MEAN MINHO + SLAPPING + SLIGHT DEGRADATION + ORAL

a/n: Idk what this is honestly. I just wrote it right after seeing the inbox message. Let’s hope some of you little heathens like it.

Mean Dom Minho always being a little mean and direct when manhandling anyone, and everyone is so naturally fitting for him. And don't we all love to see him do it?

Mean Dom Minho unconsciously reaching a hand out for your waist, even if you’re merely six inches away from him, to dig his fingertips into your hip to pull you closer to him is a constant habit of his. He doesn't need any reason to touch or guide you. He wants to—all the time. No matter if it hurts you a little bit. There’s no point in squirming or wriggling away. It's a losing game for you the moment you're in his line of sight.

Mean Dom Minho bends you over any surface at any given moment in private. A hand tangled through your hair or clasped around the nape of your neck as he kicks your feet apart and angles your body into whatever position he feels like fucking you senseless in.

Mean Dom Minho, whose handprints are clear on your skin. Red and deep maroon imprints scatter the soft expanse of your body. He’s addicted to marking up your ass until your sob for him to stop, to give you a chance to quit shaking and allow yourself time to adjust to the excitement vibrating through you every time his open palm collides with your tingling skin. But he won't stop. He never does until he's satisfied. He hits you until those tears running down your cheeks can’t compare to the creamy slick trailing from your folds.

You can’t sit comfortably anywhere for days on end. You feel too embarrassed to explain why sitting in his lap is your only choice when the other members notice your aversion to empty seats.

Shame and guilt eat away at you under their passing glances of worry, but you're too flustered by the whisper of a smile on Minho’s lips as he kisses your neck in a twisted gesture of comfort to reassure them nothing is bothering you.

He’s humiliating you without even trying.

It's unfair.

Unforiging even.

And he’ll never stop doing it.

Mean Dom Minho is easily annoyed when he’s focused on a task, able to ignore you for ten minutes before he snaps and grabs you by the neck. You wince in shock and slight pain as he twists you around to lean in on him, pulling and tugging his hold on you until your whines simmer down into an apology. “M’ sorry, m sorry m sorry-“

“No you aren’t.”

He pulls again, forcing your head backward and steadying your back against his chest. His glare is direct, calculated, and increasingly suggestive.

Your lips tremble, and you suddenly fear what he might do with you. You weren't at all comforted by the realization of being put into a vulnerable position with little effort on his part. “Min…I-I really…am-“

“Sorry?” he scoffs, lips curling into a smile, barely easing his stern gaze. “All that persisting and whining and crying while I was working, but now you’re sorry?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks, coloring them a rose red as he roughly releases you from his grip.

Mean Dom Minho doesn’t let you revel in the split seconds of freedom, shoving you into a wall with one hand while the other drops his phone on the nearest surface. The smile begging to show on your face morphs into a sly smirk, seeing his head tilt at you. “This what you wanted right, sweetheart?” He purrs quietly, inching closer to you until you breathe in every breath he lets out.

“To piss me off when I'm working?”

It’s hard to form a thought or force a sound out of your mouth when he stares straight into your wandering eyes, raising a steady hand to your chin, so you have no choice but to look him in the face.

“I’m sorr-“

“And I’m not convinced you really are sorry …” he seethes.

Your lips press shut, guilty tears in your eyes as he lands a fleeting slap across your face. “You’re gonna have to do better than that…”

It’s a threat.

A dare to see if you can dig a deeper hole for yourself...

And you take him up on it with little regard for keeping your dignity intact because there's no better way to get under his skin.

“I’m s-“

Another slap, harder, quicker.

“Not good enough …try again…” he mutters, expression unchanging and eyes darkening, hearing you whimper.

You take another breath, “I’m-“

And another, sharper than the first few strikes across your reddening cheeks. He lowers the same hand, beginning to leave its mark on your flushed cheeks to secure a bruising grip on your jaw.

“You can do so much better than that, sweetheart…”

You hesitate, knowing what he wants but still clinging to your dormant pride.

Mean Dom Minho, who breaks down your stubbornness with ease. He’s mean to you. Rough with you. Pushing your wanin ego until you can’t stand being talked down to any longer and giving in to what he wants.

“Much better,” he sighs, watching through half-lidded eyes as you lower to your knees in front of him, mouth slipping open to suck on his thumb as he cups your chin. His erection stares you right in the face, poking through his sweats and twitching the second your hands rise to rest on his toned thighs.

Your mouth waters as he backs your head into the wall, his free hand being a guard between the hard surface and your soft scalp.

You suck on his fingers sloppily, letting him guide your head at a slow pace, whining in disappointment when he pulls them out of your warm mouth to smear the spit and gloss across your parted lips.

Mean Dom Minho allows a smile to cross his face, hands running through your hair, beckoning you towards his cock as your hands ease the throbbing muscle out from thin layers of fabric.

Mean Dom Minho is content with fucking your face just as rough as he handles you. Using its warmth until your jaw falls slack and your drool, mixed with his precum, streams down your chin. You don’t fight him, staring up at him through long lashes that flutter with pride each time he moans your name and curses under his breath, feeling the passion you put into sucking him off.

“This s’ exactly what you deserve, baby…the only thing an attention whore like you needs.…” he groans loudly, laughing wryly, hearing and feeling you gag around his cock.

You’re offered no warning when his cum seeps down your throat and coats your tongue, and you don’t expect one because you know he’s right.

You needed him to treat you this way.

To handle you however and whenever he wanted to.

a/n: the moment in question for those who are wondering.. 🖤

other links: n/a

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so fucking...ugh, I can't even begin to explain my visceral need for him to do this to me…

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eraofkalki · 2 months ago

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐮𝐦

pairings: solomon x gn! mc

warnings: none.

summary: solomon loves you and you love him.

"It's been pretty long."

Yes, it had been long.

Centuries; vapid and dreary in essence. A feeble soul would have nothing much to offer, bearing the weight of a thousand cumbersome tales from the past.

Till now, at least.

"We should be on our way, or they'll worry."

The regal orange-red of the setting sun slowly dipped into the waiting, glimmering waves of the sea; sublime. You turned from the view to glance at him.

Had you always looked this divine?

There was a twinkle in your eye; the shine of a thousand stars you've possessed. Yet, why did they fall so paltry against your radiance?

Perhaps he had taken too long to respond, because you let out a little laugh.

"We can always come back here, but for now, we have to return."

Now, there was that blinding smile. It was a mere curve of your lips, but it felt like he was being gathered into a gentle embrace; tender, sweet.

Must you always be this unfair?

"You're right, we should." Extending a hand, he stared hopefully into your eyes.

Years of woes, ache and ardent yearning seemed to melt away into decadence as you promptly took his hand in yours.

Did his heart beat faster and breath quicken when you intertwined your fingers, your skin over his? It matters not.

"Very well, let's head home."

Solomon liked to close the shutters when it poured, but you've always hated that. Everytime he got up from the bed to pull them down, you'd let out a small whine of refusal.

"You should learn to enjoy the sounds, you know?" You remarked.

"It's not that I hate the sounds," He responded as he plopped back onto the bed. The charmingly poignant grey sky and the rhythmic fall of water against the earth brought as much peace to him as it did to you.

"You like the feel of being shut in, isn't it?" Perceptive as always, you were. Not that he expected anything less from his lovely, talented and beautiful apprentice.

"I do," he admitted. "It feels like...I'm away from the world for a bit. That I'm here with you, and all is well."

You smiled at that, the corners of your eyes crinkling with subtle joy as you moved closer to him. He instinctively made space for you to snuggle up to him as he wrapped his arms around you. He let out a low sigh of pleasure as you buried your head into his chest.

Sometimes he wondered if the angels sent you down to earth for him. Why else would you be right by him, staring into his empty eyes with your own mesmerising ones? Why else would you want to touch his sin-marred skin with your lovely hands?

Well, whatever it was, all he could do was thank the heavens above and cherish the treasure he'd been given.

His adorable, talented apprentice.

Your hands reached for his as a cold breeze blew, ruffling the grass around you.

"It's beautiful, seriously," you commented as you stroked his fingers. "I thought the Devildom night sky can't compare with the human world one but...this might even be better than ours."

"It's impressive, I know," Solomon responded. "Here there's always darkness, so it's only fair they get the prettier looking night sky, isn't it?"

You chuckled at that. A fleeting, wholesome sound. One that Solomon adored even more each time he heard it.

"I'm really happy," you said. "On the grass, admiring the stars...with you, like this."

His heart skipped a beat. A slight blush crept up his cheeks. Why do you say things like that?

"Then imagine how happy I'd be," He mused.

"Nah, not as happy as me, I'm sure."

You've got some guts saying that to the man whose sole source of peace and comfort was you.

"What do you see in me?" he asked you. That question was nothing new, and neither was your response. He'd ask this again and again, every time you love him more than he expected you to.

You looked at him with the same expression you had each time he uttered those words. This time there was no hint of surprise, like you almost expected him to ask this question.

"Like...everything." you said, as usual. "I just love you, alright? So stop asking me this."

You never seemed to have a proper answer for that. You acted as if it was only natural that he should be given this unbridled affection and care. As if he deserved it.

Really, what do you see?

What you saw in him will forever escape his understanding, but what he saw in you will forever bind him to your side. And he's not going to leave. It was a silent promise within him, for eternities to come.

I will never let you go.

He stretched his hand to stroke your hair and you hummed as you closed your eyes.

I will never, ever let you go.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me nightbringer #vee writes

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imaginedanvrs · 11 months ago

Text

can't quit you

dom!power bottom!natasha x sub!service top!reader

warnings: toxic dynamic, degrading, oral (r giving and receiving), fingering (r giving and receiving), mommy kink, strap on (r giving), bondage, wax play, temperature play, praise

word count: 4.2k

“Do you want to stay for a while? I'm making pasta tonight,” you told the redhead as you watched her slip her bra back on.

“I've got plans,” Natasha replied without sparing you a glance. You bit your lip and nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling the familiar disappointment bring about a pang in your chest. You were used to the spy coming over to hook up and leaving immediately after, but everytime you fooled yourself into believing that maybe she would enjoy your company beyond sex for once. You never said anything to Natasha, knowing that your absence of any persistence was what kept her coming back. She didn't have time for relationships and she certainly didn't have time for anyone needy. But you couldn't say the same for yourself and you couldn't continue to endure the ache that Natasha brought to your life.

“I don't think we should do this anymore,” you declared. Natasha looked at you with a raised brow as she pulled her jeans up, seeming sceptical of your announcement.

“Why?” She asked plainly, certainly not appearing bothered. You wished she was.

“You know why,” you countered. She didn't respond as she stared at you. “I want a relationship. I know I won't get one with you so I want to focus on other people who do,” you told her.

“Like who?” She pushed.

“I don't know yet,” you admitted. Natasha hummed with a small smile, as though she wasn't buying a word of what you said. “I'm serious, Nat” you insisted but it was clear that wasn't going through when the redhead grabbed her phone and keys.

“I'll see you around, detka,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered across your studio apartment like it was her own home.

“No you won't!” You tried to call back but the heavy slam of the door cut you off. You huffed and lay back in the messy bed, glancing at the space next to you where Natasha had been laying just ten minutes prior.

You had blocked and deleted Natasha’s number so that you wouldn't be tempted to contact her again. You meant every word of what you said to her the last time you met but that didn't ensure you had the willpower to follow through. You hadn't met many people in the cold winter months that followed, unable to stop comparing them to a certain redhead. None of their eyes held the same overwhelming intensity as hers. None of their lips promised sinful highs from just one brief touch. None of their hips held that same hypnotising sway when they knew you were watching. It was unfair to place those kinds of comparisons on them,especially as they were all far more genuine and interested as Natasha had ever been. Perhaps that was the problem.

It was late on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You had decided to have a night to yourself to finally assemble a lego kit you had bought the week before, but it seemed it would have to wait a little longer.

When you opened your door, you froze at the sight of Natasha in your hallway. She was dressed up in what you could only assume was the attire for Stark’s latest party she must have ditched. It wouldn't be the first time she had done it to come and see you.

“Miss me?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk when your eyes took in how short the crimson red dress fell. You wanted to deny it, but lying to a spy was futile.

“I missed you,” she told you, voice low in a way you had heard countless times and had never been able to walk away from. She took a step forward and your eyes snapped to hers. You could never fight the spell they cast over you either, not that you wanted to.

“You shouldn't be here,” you reminded yourself more than her. She tilted her head slightly, her smirk unwavering as your resolve crumbled in front of her.

“But we're both glad I am,” she pointed out as you suddenly felt her hand grip your own with an assertive gentleness. Natasha guided it towards her and you let her, enchanted as you watched your own hand disappear under the fabric. The pads of your fingers skimmed across her soft thighs as she led you higher until you were met with damp lace. You exhaled shakily, finally moving your digits by your own will to stroke her covered cunt that clenched at your barricaded touch.

One soft moan from Natasha was all it took for you to pull her in by the waist and slam the door behind her as you pressed the redhead up against the wall and let your lips re-familiarise themselves. She grinned in triumph against you and you happily surrendered the price for a taste of Natasha that you could've sworn was intoxicating.

You pushed your thigh between hers and felt her buck down on it instantly. You grabbed her thighs to encourage her to grind, hoping to see a wet patch on your sweatpants when you were done. Natasha moaned again and you took the opportunity to let your tongue swipe across hers.

To your surprise, she pulled away and forced you straight to your knees. You opened your mouth to object but Natasha grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back to look up at her. “You're not in charge here,” she reminded you. You struggled to nod in her grip.

“I'm sorry,” You whispered, tears brimming from the sting.

“Show me,” she ordered, guiding your head to where she needed you most whilst she pulled down her ruined underwear. You breathed in the redhead’s scent as she did so, squirming where you knelt in desperation to have her in your mouth. You barely had to wait, Natasha’s just rivalling your own.

You moaned in synchronised relief when your tongue was finally flat against Natasha's cunt. Faintly registering the dull thud of the Russian’s head dropping against the wall, you gripped her thighs as a means to anchor yourself to Natasha and ate her out like you starved. Of her, you had.

“Fuck, this is what you're made for, detka, and it's all for me,” she reminded you with a particularly harsh pull on your hair. You mumbled an agreement as you sunk your tongue into her, eager to savour as much of the dangerous woman as you could.

“You can fuck those other sluts all you want, malysh, I know you'll never be this drunk in their pussies.” You groaned, your stomach flipping at Natasha’s well placed arrogance when she told you what you already knew. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered and you complied.

To Natasha’s displeasure, you pulled away as you brought your fingers up to spread her folds, though the redhead held off protesting when she realised you just wanted to watch your fingers sink into her. She watched on with flushed features as you bit your lip and pushed two fingers in with a soft groan. Her warmth wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, throbbing and twitching as you pushed your digits knuckle deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Natasha sighed. You snapped your gaze to the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest where one of her hands had slipped under her dress to play with her breasts. You felt yourself ache as your eyes met and Natasha used her free hand to return your mouth to her.

You allowed her to manoeuvre your body as she pleased, finding it all too easy to follow her authority and let her use you for her own pleasure, a dynamic that seemed to serve you both well. You pumped your fingers steadily inside of Natasha as your lips wrapped around her hardened clit that pulsed in your mouth as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The spy bucked her hips into your fave at the action as she swore in Russian You smiled and curled your fingers towards yourself, caressing that sweet spot that made Natasha’s thighs tightened around your head.

“Such an obedient fucktoy,” Natasha seemed to mumble to herself more than you as she watched you fuck her with purpose, as though it was your sole mission. To be fair, that was about right. Natasha had continued to plague your thoughts in her absence. Images of her naked body beneath yours and the heavenly sound of her cumming played constantly through your days as you ached to have another fix of the redhead. And now you were getting it, you weren't about to make it quick. Though you were desperate to feel her cum, you took your time with the spy, wanting to make her orgasm all the better until she finally snapped and demanded it. You would never deny her.

You curled and pumped your fingers at a steady pace, slowing down everytime the redhead’s breathing became too erratic. You'd sooth her frustrations by flattening your tongue on her clit or sucking the throbbing bud gently. But Natasha wouldn't let you withhold from her for much longer.

“Come on, detka, show me how much you've missed me and make me cum. Mommy wants to soak your pretty face,” she told you with a short breath.

You took her in your mouth and pushed a third finger in with little resistance. The spy was wet enough to allow you to surpass her tightness and stretch her soft walls that clung to you. You thrust them fast, deep and with a perfect rhythm that had Natasha’s head spinning wildly.

“That's it…yes! Fuck,” Natasha moaned came, your name spilling over her lips as she gripped the back of your head and grinded herself on your mouth and fingers to ease herself down from her blinding high. Her grip remained tight when she steadied herself against the wall and gazed down at you with such a blissed expression that you couldn't help but flex your fingers inside her once more.

“Greedy thing,” Natasha tutted as she pushed you away. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it and the redhead gave you a fake pout. She swiped at the wetness on your chin with her thumb and pushed it past your lips, watching with bemusement as you hummed.

“Go put on the harness and lay on the bed,” She told you as she took her thumb away. You scrambled to your feet at the idea and made a b-line for your chest of drawers. “And strip,” she added. You did as she said as quickly as you could, only turning around when you heard Natasha searching through your bedside drawer.

You lay down just as the spy retrieved her favourite dildo you owned, the maroon one that was on the larger size. You throbbed at the thought of getting to see her take it again and attached it swiftly as Natasha let her dress pool on the floor and climbed on top of you, a small smirk playing on her lip as she took in your form.

Her soft hands wandered down your exposed stomach several times, enjoying you shuddering under her touch. In moments like that, when everything she did felt so precise and controlled, you were reminded that you were in bed with a former assassin. She was ruthless and unimaginably deadly, and yet you wanted nothing more than to see her take your strap.

Natasha spat in her hand as she sat on your knee, letting you feel how wet she still was, and brought it down to the dildo to slowly spread it. Your breathing became shaky as you wanted on, feeling the base of the toy rub painfully against your clit.

“Fuck, mommy, let me fuck you. Please,” you begged as the friction built, though not being able to fuck the woman above you was what caused you the most distress.

“Soon, dove,” Natasha chuckled, getting onto her knees to hover over the toy. Your hands immediately fell to her hips but the redhead smacked them away. “Look, don't touch,” she chided.

“But-”

“Be good,” she warned and you fell silent, bunching up the duvet next to you instead.

You were caught in a trance the moment your cock grazed Natasha’s cunt, spreading her lips apart as she gripped the base and eventually sunk down on the head. You so badly wanted to help her take you, but you couldn't risk loosing what was to come.

“Making mommy feel so good,” Natasha mumbled as she lowered herself further on the toy, enthralled by the stretch to her soft walls that gripped you with might.

The redhead placed her hands behind her on your knees and in doing so greatly improved your view of her cunt swallowing your cock. You groaned at the mesmerising sight and could've sworn you could feel how she clenched around you with every inch she took until Natasha was fully seated on the toy you refused to use with anyone else.

The spy lifted herself halfway off of the toy before she was slamming herself down on it again. The motion shook you both and in an attempt to aid her pleasure, you brought your hands up to Natasha's chest and cupped her tits. The redhead managed to chuckles admist her breathy moans. “You just can't keep your hands to yourself,” she mused but made no effort to stop you, too engrossed in the feeling of the dildo working inside you.

“No, mommy,” you agreed blindly as you felt her nipples harden under your touch. Your thumbs drifted over them while Natasha steadily bounced herself above you, the occasional curse and gasped “yes” being uttered. She was a vision like that, using you for her own pleasure all while you laid back and watched her angelic features communicate the parade of sensations ablaze in her.

Once she was accustomed to the size and stretch had subsided, your cock reached Natasha’s depths with ease, seemingly stroking every minute nerve as it did and threatened to make the redhead buck under the pleasure. “Fuck me,” she hissed when her legs started to become numb.

You didn't need telling twice. You gripped Natasha’s hips with bruising relief and began thrusting your hips up to meet the pace the spy needed. “Oh god, that's it,” she confirmed, slouching forwards to rest her hands on your stomach to better support the sudden shift.

“Don't stop,” Natasha ordered with underlying desperation.

“Never,” you whined when her nails dug into your skin, imprinting half moons that would linger for several days. It only spurred you on as you guided Natasha’s frame into your own in a heated collision, one that you could never be allowed to control.

In a blur, Natasha’s trained hand wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed at the sides. You immediately felt the blood rush but it didn't defer your movements. Natasha beamed down at you as she watched your fight off your internal conflict ignited by your light-headedness.

“Don't stop,” she said, this time with a challenging tint. You accepted with a rushed nod and continued to pound the toy into the redhead. The moan it brought from her was nothing short of profane and made your entire body buss as though in a state of call and response.

“You're gonna make me cum like this,” she told you. “Gonna make mommy cum on your cock,” she said as she toppled forwards almost entirely flat against your front and moved her hips in a frantic grind.

“Please,” you begged as one hand grabbed her ass to push her deeper in.

“Fuck, y/n,” she groaned with a sharp cry, her grip around your throat tightening momentarily as she came. You saw white just as Natasha did and bathed in the euphoria that crashed over the older woman as she panted and moaned in your ear. Her muscles twitched as she came down from her orgasm and slowly rode your cock through it to sooth her pulsing cunt until she finally collapsed on top of you.

Barely a moment passed before Natasha peered over at you with dark eyes and a promising smirk. “You're gonna be the death of me,” you told her as you flipped your bodies over and grabbed your still attached hips together.

“I'm worth dying for,” she replied with a pleased smile.

Nat: I'll be over in 10. You glanced at the message on your phone and huffed to yourself. Natasha had added her number back to your phone when you had gone to get some water the last time she was over and you hadn't bothered to delete it again. You still had every intention of moving on from the spy, you just needed to figure out how.

Me: maybe I'm out rn. You replied.

Nat: funny. You huffed again and tossed your phone to the side, knowing your ittitance with the redhead wouldn't last once she had her hands on you.

You were right. The moment you were pushed back on the bed with the torturous spy following after you, being mad at her was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by the feeling of her lips on yours that you didn't notice what her wandering hands held until the S.H.I.E.L.D issued handcuffs were secured around your wrists above your head. That was new.

Natasha looked down at you with a devilish grin and you knew that wasn't all she had planned. “You trust me, don't you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice as she produced a blindfold. You stared at the black material as you nodded your head but Natasha tutted.

“Use your words, malysh,” she chided.

“Yes,” you breathed out. Natasha gave a low hum of approval and placed the soft fabric over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head. With your senses heightened, you almost jumped at the light kiss pressed to your cheek.

“I'll be right back,” she whispered against your ear. You shuddered and the bed creaked quietly as she got off but you didn't hear her leave and for a moment you wondered if she was still there, admiring your bare form as you listened out for her. There wasn't much point, of course. If the black widow didn't want to be heard, she wouldn't be.

It felt as though aeons passed before you felt the bed dip again. You turned your head in that direction on instinct, waiting for any indicator as to what the other woman was doing. She didn't say a word, giving you no warning when a sudden bitterly cold object was placed on your torso. You inhaled sharply and heard Natasha chuckled as she slid the object across you and left a wet trail. An ice cube. You would have laughed if you weren't so shocked, not taking her seriously when Natasha had mentioned it months ago.

“You're cute when you squirm,” Natasha commented. “Is it too cold for you, detka? You need something to warm you up?” She asked. You searched your brain for what she could possibly mean, clocking it just as you heard a lighter being flicked on for several seconds.

“I didn't think you were serious,” you admitted with an anxious laugh as you rightfully pictured the candle Natasha held above your naked body.

“Are you changing your mind?” She asked as she removed the ice cube and replaced it with her warm mouth. You gasped at the pleasantly wet feeling of Natasha’s tongue picking the water off of your torso. Fuck, you whised you could see her.

“No,” you managed to say.

“That's my good girl,” She smiled against your skin as she allowed the candle to burn and brought another ice cube to your stomach - lower this time. You jumped at the expected cold but didn't get a chance to shiver because Natasha was quick to leave open mouthed kisses across the chilled area.

Natasha revelled in your conflicted responses to her touches, admiring the way your body was entirely at her mercy to torment as she saw fit. After such a shit mission, she relished in that control.

Pulling the ice cube away from your sensitive skin, Natasha watched how your muscles tensed in expectation, but Natasha was anything but predictable and instead allowed a small bead of hot wax to dribble over you. You hissed once more though this time you pulled on the restraints around your wrists, only relaxing when the redhead locked a long strip of the wax off of your body.

“Mommy,” you whined, unable to tell if the heat from her mouth made it better or worse, all you knew was that it was exquisitely intense and unlike anything you had ever felt.

“You're taking it so well,” Natasha cooed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. At her words, you felt your already wet cunt clench. You tried to steady your breathing and focus on the striking heats but it was impossible to ignore the pulsing.

You had never let Natasha touch you before, the one trait she shared with everyone else you had been with. It wasn't like they never offered, you had just never been comfortable enough to let them. Natasha herself had asked countless times but you always shrugged her off. It didn't matter, you were a giver anyway. But with every round of alternating temperature patterns, it became harder to disregard your need.

“You're so wet,” Natasha noted as she pushed your thighs apart and kept you open, intending to focus on your thighs before she took in the sight of your soaked pussy. Her mouth watered as she watched you clench around nothing and she couldn't help but wonder how tight you were.

Just to add to your aching frustrations, Natasha spilled more wax across you, this time dripping down the inside of your thighs. Your moans were needier than Natasha had ever heard and it only spurred her on as she licked the wax off your skin and hummed at the scents of vanilla.

“Such a messy thing,” she chuckled. “Oh, detka, that looks painful,” she pouted as she saw your arousal had smeared to your thighs. “You need mommy to take care of that?” She asked, not expecting your response to be any different than usual.

“Yeah,” you whined. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Yeah? Want me to take care of this pretty pussy?” She continued as her excitement grew.

“Please,” you whispered, your walls finally crumbling.

Natasha didn't waste another second, her mouth was on your cunt in an instant and you both gave a gluttonous moan at the contact. “Fuck,” you cried out as the redhead flattened her tongue and explored your cunt with a newfound vigour. Your thighs clasped around Natasha’s head and your hips seemed to develop their own free will as you desperately tried to grind against the source of your disorientating pleasure.

“God, you taste so good,” she mumbled against you before sinking her tongue inside. Her moans resonated through your entire body, vibrations brushing every nerve ending as she gripped your hips and forced you to stay still as she fucked you.

“Please,” you whined though you had no idea what you were pleading for. It was all so much. Natasha seemed to know what you needed and swiftly switched to sucking your clit in her mouth. You tugged on your restraints and arched your back sharply, core ablaze.

The spy examined you closely for everything that made your body shudder and cunt clench. It wasn't hard to figure out how highly responsive and sensitive you were. Poor thing, Natasha had thought as she sucked on your puffy lips as a momentary relief.

It didn't take long to work you up to your orgasm and Natasha was more than ready to give it to you. “It's alright, detka, cum for me,” she coaxed before sinking her tongue into your cunt and setting on the pace you needed from her.

“Gonne,” you whined as the pressure built and built until it was too much and you went spiralling over the edge, floating mid air until you tumbled back down. Natasha pulled the blindfold down just as you came and your eyes locked in that moment, watching each other become entirely enthralled by the other’s acts.

“Give me another,” she instructed clearly, something dark lurking behind her eyes.

You weren't sure you could until Natasha pushed two fingers into your tight cunt. You cried out as your already overworked nerves were pushed once more. But it ached so good, hurting in just the right way that you didn't want it to stop.

Natasha’s fingers thrust and curled inside you as you became a mess beneath her. She cooed sweet whispers of praise as she coaxed you through another orgasm, touching you in the ways she had always envisaged to see you come undone.

You came again with a silent gasp, your body too wrecked to have the strength for anything else. Natasha pumped her fingers steadily as she watched you and left kisses across your inner thigh to bring you back to her.

“Beautiful,” she commented as she withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her lips, staring at you with a satisfied smirk as she sucked on her digits. You watched her through hooded eyes, your frazzled brain trying to figure out how you were ever going to be able to part from the assassin.

“Mine,” she whispered as she kissed back up your chest, as though she knew what you were pondering. “Always mine.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff smut #toxic!natasha romanoff

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lonigiri · 1 year ago

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anton nsfw alphabet

minors dni

a=aftercare: hes so sweet, gives you kisses and cuddles, cleans you up a little bit but not anything big, just gets some tissues but he loves after sex cuddles

b=body part: his favorite body part on himself is probably his height (ik its not like a part stfu) he loves the size difference between himself and you. his favorite body part on you is probably your neck, his head is always burried in your neck giving you kisses and sucking hickies 🤭

c=cum: he just loves to cum. thats it thats the tweet/hj. hes just so happy to have someone that loves him enough to be this vulnerable with him and he cant hold himself back from cumming he feels like hes gonna cum his pants whenever he sees ur pretty tits 😣

d=dirty secret: he wants to ask one of the guys (preferably wonbin or sohee bcs they wouldnt make fun of him) to have a threesome with you and him because he thinks ur too pretty to just have you to himself, he wants to see how good his members can fuck you

e=experience: he wasnt very experienced before you, you were probably his first or second, but you helped teach him how to touch you nice and good to make you finish

f=favorite position: probably just missionary, he loves being on top of you and seeing how tiny you are compared to him, also loves burrying his face into your neck. if he wanted to switch it up he'd probably let you ride him

g=goofy: probably 50/50 hes honestly too busy whimpering to be funny

h=hair: anton strikes me as the type to be basically fully shaved, he just doesnt like how the hair looks on him

i=intimacy: he doesnt strike me as the type to have fast/rough sex, sure if he has some like pent up anger he will fuck you but if its just a normal tuesday he likes to have slower sex, but if you asked him to be rougher he will oblige

j=jack off: anton was so scared to ask you for sex during your relationship, yall would be making out and he'd pop a boner and he'd excuse himself to the bathroom and rub one out (which was very apparent to you because the walls were thin and you could hear him moaning) but now that you guys actually have sex he doesnt really masterbate anymore, only if hes away from you for a long time

k=kink: he def has a size kink, watching how ur belly buldges when he bottoms out inside of you turns him on so so much he could just cum right then and there tbh

l=location: he just likes the bed, nothing crazy, sometimes the shower if you ask him to shower with you

m=motivation: bro gets turned on by everything and anything, the slightest touch to him hes on the verge of getting bricked. but its only for you, you make him feel such a special way the no one else could 🥰🥲

n=no: just anything thats hurting you, sure he might accidentally hurt you with his dick and being too eager but he always feels so bad. he could never hurt you on purpose 💔

o=oral: anton is a MUNCH and i stand by that, he LOVEEESSSS eating pussy so much. he gets sooo pussy drunk when hes between ur legs omg. when you first asked him to eat u out he was very skeptical, now he basically claws at ur pants to get them off so he can eat you nice and good like u deserve

p=pace: like i said earlier he enjoys slow sex a lot more then rough/fast sex. he will go fast/rough if you ask him to, he just probably wont last as long 😣

q=quickie: hes iffy on them, doesnt really enjoy them bcs he likes to take his time with you. but if you have limited time to have sex he will have one just wont be very happy abt it

r=risks: doesnt really take risks, he knows what works and he sticks to it

s=stamina: he does not have a very high stamina, can probably go for at the very most 3 rounds and even by then hes like dying

t=toys: you have a viberator that you've integrated into your sex and he has a cock ring 😵‍💫

u=unfair: he doesnt really tease, like ever. if anything you tease him more then he teases you

v=volume: oh hes a whimperer his sounds are so freaking pretty. whispering into your ear how good you make him feel and how pretty you are

w=wild card: he loves when you mark him up, leaving hickies on his neck, scratching his shoulders and back. he takes it like a trophy. whenever hes changing around the guys and they see the marks they always call them out and he just smiles like a dummy recalling the things he did the night before to recive said marks

x=xray: oh anton is packing, its like 7 1/2"-8" and like the perfect girth. he didnt realize how big he actually was until the two of you had sex for the first time and your jaw was basically on the floor from how big he was like how tf is that supposed to go into my vagina

y=yearing: 24/7 hes thinking of it, how good ur cunt is and how when he gets home he wants to make you feel so good and bury himself into ur cunt

z=zzz: he falls asleep so fast, he gets the tissues to clean you up, and then he gives you a few kisses and as soon as hes cuddling with you he passes out

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please do not translate or steal my works! reblogs and likes always help!!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop x reader smut #anton smut #riize smut #anton x reader smut #anton riize #riize x reader smut

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months ago

Text

returning home

(cw: age gap 26/41; nsfw, mdni, smut, a bit of angst and drama, fluffiness and a lot of tears)

the part before: it's the parts of König that she didn't see

a/n: i'm sorry, this got a bit out of hand :') over 9k words, buckle in, we're in for a ride

I have been a mess those past four months. This has been the worst breakup of my life. I mean, not that I had that many partners before. And the only one I still sometimes cry after is my highschool sweetheart.

But this… we weren’t even an official thing. König and I spent a lot of time together in those few weeks, yes. But we never even clarified if we were in a relationship or not. Dating. Being exclusive. And sure, I was basically living at his place after only a week of knowing each other. But that didn’t mean anything in retrospect. Apparently.

You can’t really call in sick for a broken heart and I wasn’t able to leave my bed for a few days. Sleeping a lot, listening to all the sad love songs, barely eating. Until my mom came by, basically kicking me off my mattress. Forcing me – in a loving way – to get a grip and not mope around like a heartbroken mess.

The worst part was when I found one of his hoodies in between my stuff, I must have accidentally packed it with my clothes when I got everthing together, and it still smelled like him. It doesn't anymore because I have been wearing it nonstop when I'm at home. Not outside though, because the piece of clothing looks ridiculous on me with how big it is compared to my size. I could fit myself in there three times and the hem falls over my knees. If I press my face into the fabric, I still pick up hints of his scent. At least that’s what I tell myself.

The marks on my body faded too. The hickeys he left on my skin becoming fainter by each day, until they were gone.

I looked at all the pictures we took together. Well, more like, I took them and König is also in them. And the selfies we sent each other. The only ones I didn't keep were the filthy ones, because it felt wrong, so I deleted them. But I didn't have the heart to do that to the pictures of us, the ones that carried the memories. And it stopped hurting as much over time. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Lying in bed. The one he bought and we built together, because he broke mine. It's unfair, really, because he is gone and I can't escape him still. Repeating his words to me in my mind.

You should be with someone your age.

It never had been a topic for me, not something I would've spent a second thought on, at least not like this. But apparently, it had been on his mind.

Someone who can promise you that they'll come back every time.

And in the back of my mind there is still the little voice that wishes that he would just have had the guts to be with me. Despite the possibility of him not coming back in one piece, leaving me to mourn him. Because like this, he isn't in my life either. And I still worry about him, because there is no way for me to know that he still is in this life.

He didn't even want to hear my side of things. Or maybe he wanted to, but I was just too blindsided by it all, frozen in place as he “broke up” with me.

Afterwards, when I thought about what he said, I wanted to scream. To shout at him. Even if I could never really do that. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and ask him, what the fuck he was thinking. Why the fuck he was thinking that.

Fuck. I’m so sorry, Liebes.

His apologies didn’t help either. Because I wanted to be mad at him. I was mad at him, and I still am. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Because even though I get it - I get what he was telling me - I still don’t fully understand.

And I remember the look on his face as he was crouched before me. When it became painfully clear that I couldn’t read him.

I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.

Well, I didn’t either. But it did. And he left, even though he felt the same way. Or at least so I thought.

After a few weeks I finally feel better. I’m okay with how it is. That’s what I tell myself.

Not at all ready to go out on dates again. Not that there is any rush. Not that there had been that many occasions, but still. The thought alone of being with somebody that's not him…

I get back to work, meet my friends, hang out with my family, and when they ask me how I’m doing, I can convincingly tell them I’m okay.

Almost every night the thing on my mind before I fall asleep is him. Nothing, but him, and how I wish he was lying right next to me. I still just want him to come back.

And I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just gonna take some more time to get over this.

When I wake up one morning and see the messages on my phone, I don't even realize what they mean at first.

I'm coming back tomorrow I don't deserve you, but if there's any chance that you'd want to see me again... I’m landing at the airfield in [REDACTED], at 1130 I'm sorry, and I understand if you've moved on or maybe we can talk sometime this week if you're busy whatever works for you or maybe you don’t want to talk to me at all which is fine as well, of course just let me know in Liebe, König

I blink, reading the messages over and over again. The little incoherent ramble until it finally clicks. He's coming back.

I groan, putting the phone away, hiding my face in my hands. Contemplating what I should do as the possibility of seeing him again churns in my stomach. And all the emotions come flooding back, tears pricking in the corner of my eye. God damn it.

Men and women are disembarking from the aircraft and I crane my neck, looking for him.

I’ve been waiting here for some time cause they were running late. And I’m not the only one, there are quite a bunch of people waiting. Probably families and partners? They all seemed relaxed, at least more relaxed than me.

I’m hopping from one leg to the other, my hands feel a little clammy as I knead them. And honestly, I’m a little nauseous.

More people in gear than I would have thought come off the plane, meeting up with their relatives, mingling with each other or just leaving.

I already fear that I completely misunderstood his messages, but that couldn’t have been possible, right? Maybe I shouldn't have come here, and just told him I’ll see him some time this week, maybe I shou-

Two more figures emerge from the cargo hold, coming down the ramp. I don’t recognize the man on the right, but the one on the left…

Beige cargo-pants, protectors on the knees and shins. A simple longsleeved shirt, black of course, and a bulletproof vest. Gloves and more protectors on his arms. The band of bright red beads around his wrist.

The mask, the hood fashioned out of simple fabric, red streaks down underneath the eyeholes, held in place by the helmet atop his head. Hiding his face away.

Fuck.

I only saw a picture of him in gear once, when he showed me, but I still would have recognized him instantly. His tall build, the attitude with which he carries himself, gives him away. This get-up can’t hide it.

He stills. Frozen in place, and from the distance I can’t make out anything.

I just stand there, unsure if he already saw me. And I lift my hand, just a little wave, before I drop it again.

Shit, maybe I should have told him that I was coming.

But then he starts running towards me. A slight jog at first, his strides getting longer with every step. I can’t just stand here either, my legs almost moving on their own.

Dropping the bag that hung over his shoulder. His gloved hands are fumbling with his helmet, until he gets it off, just throwing it away, and pulling of the mask too, and when I see his face for the first time in month, I feel tears prick in the corner of my eyes. Running a little faster, only a few meters between us now. The skin around his eyes is smeared with eyeblack, his long hair is clinging to his head, as he also gets rid of the balaclava, just pushing it down, so it sits around his neck, and then…

He stops, just a step before me, not to run me over, but I don’t, jumping up, jumping into his arms, the full impact of my body against his not moving the big guy a little bit. I’m clinging onto his shoulders as he catches me in his embrace. I’m burying my face in his neck, and when his scent hits my nostrils, a little sharper than usual, gunpowder and sweat mixing with his warm soothing scent, the tears flow free, staining his balaclava, wetting his cheeks. Sobs are shaking me as he presses me against him, my legs hugging around his waist.

“I missed you so fucking much.”, he says, his deep voice shaky, and I can’t even answer because it just makes me cry more. “Ssssh, Liebes. Don’t cry.”, he tries to comfort me, but hearing his favourite term of endearment only lets the tears flow freely. “I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“To-oo late for - that.”, I press out between two sobs.

“I’m so sorry, fuck.”, he sighs, his arms closing even tighter around me. “I don't know how I will ever make it up to you.” His gloved hand is softly caressing down my back.

“I missed you too.”, I finally manage to say, my voice thick with tears, pressing myself against him, and I never wanna let go.

But I need to pull back, only a little, just to look at him again. Touch him. Convince myself that this is real.

My vision is blurred, but that’s still him, his face so close to mine. His gaze intently on me, while one of my hands grabs him, my fingers caressing over his jaw, the stubble a little longer than I’m used to, the smudged black colour around the eye area making him look a little different. He leans into my palm, the eyebrows pulling up and the tension melting away.

His hand cups mine, his thumb softly caressing over it, such soft touches and another small sob is shaking me.

“I don’t want to overstep anything.”, he whispers. “But I would really like to kiss you.”

And I nod, not able to speak the words yet. And before he can lean in, I already press my lips to his. When my mouth meets his, and I taste the saltiness of my tears intermingling with his scent, the wave of relief that floods me is indescribable.

It's as soft as I remember, something that always surprised me. How soft his kisses are.

The way his lips press against mine, like he's searching for something, tasting me. Nipping at my lower lip, his nose rubbing against mine. His stubble scratching over my skin as he tilts his head.

He presses kisses to the corner of my mouth, my cheeks, my nose. All over my face, slowly drying up my tears, and I take a deep breath, calming myself down. He really is back.

When I finally take a look around, I realise that we’re off to the side a bit, but not that far away from the others on the tarmac, so… this must be quite the spectacle for his colleagues and the people who waited for them. Some of them are in tight hugs or talking with the civilians, but some are also looking in our direction, every once in a while. I don't have any time to feel self-conscious though, about being a teary mess.

And the guy who disembarked the aircraft with König comes our way, a little hesitantly, but smiling at us both.

“Köni.”, he says in a deep, but friendly voice, omitting the g in his name.

“Horangi.”, König says, setting me down, but keeping me close by his side, and I wouldn’t have moved an inch away.

The man in front of us is dressed in green and beige camo, quite different from what the big guy is wearing except for the pants. A similarly coloured balaclava around his neck and sporty sunglasses on his head, sitting on top of it in his hair, complete the look.

“I heard so much about you.”, he says lightly, addressing me.

“You did?” My eyebrows shoot up, almost colliding with my hairline.

He nods, grinning, not fazed at all by the threatening stare from König. “Yes. Every time he drank just a little too much, he wouldn't shut up about you.”, Horangi says. “You did a number on the guy.”

I don't know what to say to that at first, honestly a little gobsmacked. “I did?”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off.”, König says to Horangi, patting the other man’s back, the frown on his face turning into a grumpy smile.

“See ya, Colonel.”, he says with a grin. “Enjoy your leave.”, adding a little joking salute, before stomping off.

I wave after him, confused for a moment. Colonel?

“Don't mind him.”, König grumbles as I turn to him again, but he doesn't look mad in the slightest bit. “He doesn't know how to behave sometimes.”

My arms closing around his waist, and he repositions me a bit, so the straps on his bullet proof vest don’t press into my cheek.

“So, you really did miss me.”, I say pulling him tighter. Not a question, a statement.

“I did.”, he answers almost solemn as he brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face.

Some of the soldiers are still standing around, talking to each other and the people around them, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.

“They’re still looking.”, I whisper to him, unsure what that means.

“Yeah, cause they’re all seeing my face.”, he whispers back, smiling down at me.

Right, the hood!

“Oh shit, I forgot about the mask thing.”, I say, my hand clasping over my mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.”, he says softly. “They'll survive seeing my face. And I will too.”

“Right, still.”

“Don’t worry about it. I asked you to come here.” He pauses for a moment. “More on a whim, cause I didn’t really think you actually would.”

I take a deep breath. “To be honest, until this morning I didn’t know either.” My eyes pan up to meet his. When I woke up, I knew that I wanted to see him. But only when I got into my car, I called into work to take a personal day off and instead drove here.

“I’m glad you did.”, he says, holding my gaze.

“Me too.”, I whisper back.

“Cause Horangi was right. I was miserable.”

Just like I was. “Really?”, I ask him again, almost soundlessly.

“I was fucking miserable without you.”, he repeats, picking me up again and pressing another kiss to my lips.

I think I don't wanna leave his embrace ever again. But we still have stuff to talk about. Stuff to sort out. And we really can't do that here.

Plus his kisses have their usual effect. As the emotional turmoil and tears dissipate, a familiar feeling spreads through my body, my lower belly tensing up.

“You’re here in your car?”, he asks quietly in between two more kisses. Getting more desperate.

“Yeah.”, I say. “I parked it around the corner.”

“Okay, you wanna get out of here then?”

I just nod, kissing him again, and his little hum against my lips lets tingles erupt all over me. Then we're out of here.

Not before picking up his helmet and hood that he shed on the way, me still in his arms, getting his duffle bag, and I can’t help the little giggle escaping me, because he refuses to set me down when he bends down. Carrying me like I weigh nothing, also not willing to leave my side even for a moment.

On the way to the car, it gets even a little more heated and I’m glad when we turn the corner, hiding away from other eyes.

He’s taking huge strides, heading right for my car, that he spotted in an instant, the small silver one.

My fingers are tangled in his hair, his hands grabbing my ass and thighs, and I pull the car key out my pocket and unlock it. He opens the car door, lying me down on the cushioned seat and I scoot back to make room for him.

Reminders flood my brain how we did it in the back of his car, much bigger than the Toyota I drive. It’s way too small for him, but that doesn’t stop us.

I push off my shoes and get my pants off quickly as he climbs in over me, his shoulders pressing up against the roof of the car, while he sheds his protectors and gloves and shuts the door behind him.

A moment later, I’m folded in half, my knees against my chest, the feet up in the air brushing against the frame of the car. His hands gripping my thighs, spreading me for him.

König is eating me out like a starved man, soft mewls and grunts dropping from his lips, the vibrations of them against my sensitive skin.

“Oh fuck.”, I groan.

His hair is falling over his face, but I just want to see him, brushing the strands back. His gaze burning into me as he looks up at me, the eyeblack giving him a rugged look.

Desperately licking me, my juices glistening all over the lower part of his face. The stubble that is longer than usual is scratching against the insides of my thighs, but I don’t care about that right now, in the contrary, the soft scratch right there makes me even hotter.

It’s him. in this get-up, a little different than I was used to, but it’s him.

When he slips his fingers into me, his lips closing around my clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, something that always made me lose my mind fast, and this is no exception.

The way he fills me up, his thick digits stretching me. His tongue working my pussy, knowing exactly what makes me cry out. His mouth wandering, littering my inner thigh with kisses and hickeys.

The bites and nibbles send shivers down my body, my hips rutting forward, pushing my pussy into him. His arm comes over tummy, holding me in place, so I can't escape his touches.

“Yes, please, just-”, I sigh, and I can feels how he curls his fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot.

I come around them, my cries a bit too loud in my own ears in the small space, and I almost bump my head into the car door behind me as he doesn’t let up, but dives in again. His tongue is toying with my clit, dragging over it, slow, broad licks, and my body shakes and convulses.

“König…”, I plead, my hand tangled in his hair.

He finally pulls back a bit, still lapping everything up, even putting his own fingers in his mouth. His lips closing around them, his lids fluttering for just a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, Kleine.”, he whispers, not breaking eye contact as he meticulously licks my arousal off them, and I can’t help the blush on my face, especially when his tongues darts through between them. Fuck.

Instead of an answer, I pull him into me, to kiss him again, tasting myself on his lips, my hands dropping to his belt, fumbling with the clasp. I want more. I want him.

“Wait.”, he says, his hand coming over mine, I can feel the lingering wetness on them, and I still for a moment. “Shouldn’t we like…”

“You…. don’t want to?”

"No, of course I do, Liebes… I just want to do it right, you know? Make it right. In a proper bed."

I pull one of my eyebrows up. He thinks about that now after eating me out. "We can still do that later, no worries."

"But- I-"

"Yeah, that's all really noble, but right now I just need you." I kiss him again. "So shut up and fuck me. Please.", I say, still fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t have any condoms with me.”, he says, still not helping me to get his gear off.

I pull up an eyebrow. “And?” We did it raw many times, why would it be…

"Did you not... You didn't...?", he stammers, his eyes searching mine.

And then it dawns on me. "If you're gonna ask, if I slept with somebody else in the meantime, I suggest you don't. Because I fucking didn't." Adding after a moment’s pause: “Did you?”

"Fuck, no.”, he answers without hesitation, but his whole body is still shaken with agitation. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I just-" His hand strokes through his hair, exasperated, straightening up a bit and almost hitting his head on the roof of the car.

"König."

He stills, his eyes on me again and I can see the turmoil in them.

"I didn't want anybody else, I just wanted you back.", I say, my voice a little shaky. "And now that I've got you back, I just need to feel you. We can talk and do all the other stuff after getting home, okay?"

Home. The word slipped over my lips before I could think about it. It's out there before I can take it back.

He doesn't move a bit, just looks at me incredulously, and my hand shoots out to grab him which pulls him from his thoughts.

“I do not fucking deserve you.”, he whispers, and then it all happens very quickly. Pulling the zipper down and getting his dick out, the tip slipping between my folds.

He doesn't wait a moment longer and we both groan in unison when he slides into me, and the familiar feeling floods me, the stretch deliciously making me squirm.

Yet my eyes don't leave his for even a moment, not daring to close them, in case this is still a dream and he did not really come back.

But when he grasps my chin, tilting it up and leaning down to press his lips to mine, the tears that have been welling up again roll down my cheeks, the wetness blurring my vision.

I wipe them away, aggressively, a little mad at myself that I just can't stop crying. “Fuck, just… I-” I sigh. “Those fucking tears.”

He’s not saying anything, his thumb brushing over my cheek, a soothing gesture. His lips are peppering kisses all over my face as he starts to fuck me, slowly and sweetly.

I look down to where we are connected, seeing him push into me, seeing and feeling his dick slip into me. As deep as he can go.

With the position I’m in, folded in half, my belly is bulging with every thrust, just a bit, but still. And when he bottoms me out, time after time after time, I inadvertently squeeze around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, he groans.

He’s not fucking me fast, more hard and deep. The sound of skin against skin when his lap collides with the plush of my thighs, loud and quite heavy. And I’m underneath him, framed by his strong arms, holding onto them.

Every single one of his thrusts lets a moan slip out of me, especially with how his pubic bone is pressing up against my sensitive clit, over and over again.

My breath hits his face, the look on it still a little incredulous, the almost enamored smile.

His breath is getting heavier too, rattling grunts shaking his chest. I wanna feel them, I wanna feel his rapid heartbeat against my fingertips. My hand slips under his vest, the other one holding onto it. The soft fabric of his compression shirt is warm, feeling his heartbeat strum against the palm of my hand, as I look up at him. Back in one piece. Alive.

The telltale signs how close he is are written on his face. The breath that halts in his throat every so often. The way his jaw drops. His brows draw together, not his usual frown, the ever-present scowl. Ecstasy visible on his features. And his eyes pressing together, for just a moment.

Looking down at me again, he’s still fucking me, my knees pressed up against my chest, his propped-up arms carrying most, but not all of his weight. My fingers are grabbing his bulletproof vest, needing him closer. The buttons of his waistband and the belt pressing into my ass with every thrust.

But all those sensations get overtaken when my second orgasm washes over me abruptly, just holding onto him, and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, when he doesn’t stop. The pushes of his hips, how he rolls them into me, getting a little more desperate, almost losing the rhythm, as I clench around him.

He’s buried deep inside me, filling me up when he comes, and groans drop from his lips. His face contorting in pleasure. I missed his stupid face, and apparently I also missed his O-face.

He takes a big breath, backing off a bit, giving me a moment to reposition my legs. When his dick slips out of me, I sigh, feeling a bit empty and the wetness against my stomach as it rests over it.

His big heavy body slumps over me, and we just stay like that for a while. Cheek to cheek. My arms around his neck, his hands softly caressing down my body.

Maybe I could even stay like this forever.

Again I remember the time we did it on the backseat of his car, that was much more spacious. Half an eternity ago. Only the second time we ever did it.

Softly kissing now and then. The little sounds and our breath the only thing in the calm silence around us, until he breaks it.

“Can I take you home?”

“Yes.”, I answer without hesitation. We still have some stuff to sort out, and we should get going.

He’s zipping himself up, I put on my pants again, his cum seeping into my panties now, but I don’t even care and get into the driver’s seat, the doors close behind us.

And for once he is in the passenger’s seat, my car still way too small for the big man. It’s almost ridiculous how his stature fills the car. He almost has to duck his head like this, even without the helmet, dwarfing the whole space.

I chuckle a little, put on some music and start driving.

“So Colonel, huh?”, I ask him, pulling an eyebrow up.

“Yeah.”, he says, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know why I never told you.”

“It’s okay.”, I say. “I guess, that doesn’t really matter in the civilian life.”

“It doesn’t.”, he agrees. “But it also feels like I wasn’t fully honest with you. Which is shitty.”

I clasp my hand over his for a moment, squeezing his fingers. A little reassurance. I don't care about his rank cause it doesn't change anything anyway, and I also never bothered to ask.

“So, I wouldn't get in trouble for insubordination if I called you Sir and not Colonel?”, I ask him, teasingly.

His brows furrow, that certain look in his eyes like always when I was being bratty - and I missed that too.

“You won't.”, he grumbles.

I can't help the little laugh. “Good to know.”

I look to the side, and there he is. It’s him, even in this get-up, it’s him. In my car.

And he’s grinning back at me, not as bright as I was used to, but still. I shake my head as I look back onto the street. He really is back.

I pull into the driveway, the sight of his house alone pulling at my heartstrings. The heavy feeling hits me, the lightheartedness I felt before taking a little hit, even before turning the motor off, getting out the car and heading inside.

He unlocks the door and goes inside, putting down the duffle bag, as I follow him. I stand around a little unsure, taking my shoes off, before heading to the living room.

When I see the couch, I have to swallow my emotions down, not ready to cry again. The memories come rushing back and I just need a moment to take it all in.

Heavy steps behind me, warmth emanating from his body. His presence so tangible, even when he’s not touching me. I’m still so tuned into him.

And I turn.

God damn, I almost forgot how big he is. He fills the doorframe that has been fit to his height. His shoulders seeming even broader in his gear. His head almost grazing the top of the frame.

And I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. We just stand here for a moment.

“I need to shower.. you, uh-”, he starts.

“I’m just gonna wait here, okay?”

He nods. “Yes, of course.” He hands me his phone. “You wanna order something to eat in the meantime? For us.”

“I can do that.”

“Pick whatever you like.”, he tells me before rushing up the stairs with huge strides, taking his bag with him.

I sigh and take a seat at the dinner table we barely ever used. Not daring to sit on the couch like I usually would have.

Unlocking his phone, only clicking on the delivery app, of course. Searching for his favourite take-out place, the grill with the nice little garden out back.

Does he deserve it? I don't know, maybe not. But I'm not gonna be petty over food. I’m adding another dessert for myself, though.

After I placed the order, I put his phone away, picking up mine instead. Scrolling on the usual apps, waiting because I don't know what else to do. He’s taking longer than I’m used to for the shower. And I can feel myself getting a bit restless. My mind coming back to the things he said. When he broke up with me and then today when he came back.

Heavy steps are coming down the stairs, him emerging in a get up I’m more used to, a simple black shirt and shorts.

His hair is still a bit wet, clinging to him in strands. He’s freshly shaved too, the stubble he had before gone. And I can smell the clean and sharp tone of his after-shave when he walks up to me.

“Food will be here soon.”, I tell him, because I don’t know what else to say.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that.”

“I know.” I hand him back his phone. “And I didn't snoop through it or anything.”

He nods, acknowledging my comment. “I trust you.” He steps a bit closer, taking it. “But you wouldn't have found anything noteworthy either. My phone is embarrassingly empty.” He looks up from the device, to me, a lopsided wry smile adorning his face. “Mostly work emails and photos of you I couldn't bring myself to delete.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

“What’s the other stuff?”

“Photos of Mimi.” His smile is turning into a grin.

“That little minx. I should have known.”, I say exasperated, but jokingly.

He’s still standing there, swaying from one foot to the other ever so slightly, and almost wanna tell him to just sit down.

“I thought about calling you. I just didn't know what to say.”, he says, his voice quiet. “I wasn't even sure you'd pick up.”

“I don't know if I could have handled talking to you over the phone.”, I say carefully, but honestly. I probably wouldn’t have picked up.

He just nods. “I understand.”

“I actually didn’t know what to think when you texted me.”, I continue. “It was a lot. After a few months of no bleep, no nothing.”

“I wanted to text you. I just chickened out every time.”, he says. “But Horangi kicked some sense into me.”

“Does he do that often?”, I ask, biting back a grin, when remembering the conversation with him earlier. How he basically snitched on him, painting the a bit pathetic picture of drunk König who missed me so much that he wouldn't shut up about me. After he broke up with me of his own volition.

He tilts his head to the side, grudgingly admitting: “Sometimes.”

“And we all need friends like that sometimes.”, I say.

He laughs a little and confesses. “Yeah, he actually helped me phrase the messages because I just didn’t know how I-” He breaks off. “I meant everything I said though.” His eyes find mine again. “I would've understood if you didn't have time or if you just didn't wanna see me. But I still had to try. And I meant it earlier, when I said that I’m glad you came.”

The look on his face, almost pleading. And I feel the same way, but being here with him still feels a little… overwhelming.

“I-”

The doorbell ringing disrupts our conversation. He turns and hurries to the door. I can hear him talk to the delivery person as I get up and hurry to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery.

We’re both coming back a few moments later, setting everything down on the dinner table, taking a seat next to each other. Opening up the containers of food, laying everything out. Loading our plates up, my stomach grumbling. I hadn’t eaten all day, too anxious and nervous. I dig in, taking spoonsfuls of the veggies with rice, and I feel how his eyes are on me, how he’s watching me.

I meet his eyes when he breaks the silence again.

“I missed your birthday, didn't I?”, he asks, but judging from the look on his face he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”, I say, nodding.

“Now there's ‘only’ 15 years between us.”, he says, matter-of-factly.

“There are.”, I agree. “But it doesn’t matter. 15, 16, what’s the difference.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I put my fork down for a moment and just tell him outright what I have been thinking: “When I teased you, it was never about that. Our age difference never was an issue for me, you know. But I will never call you an old man again, if there is a chance that you will throw it in my face like that.” I pause. “Again.”

“I’m not gonna do that - again.”, he reassures me.

“Good.” I take a deep breath. “If I had known that this was plaguing you, I could have put your mind at ease. Or at least tried.”

“It’s not on you.”, he says with a sigh, his hand dragging over his face for just a moment, rubbing over his eyes. I can feel the frustration emanating off him. “I just- I tried to hide it.” Like he also tried to hide it when he had shit days. I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

“I figured. Because the whole… conversation came out of nowhere for me.”

“Yeah, I felt like such an asshole afterwards. I went about it the most blunt way. The whole thing anyway… it was a mistake.”, he continues, point-blank. “And I’m sorry for that.”

If we had this talk only weeks after he left, I would have been so mad still. The distance helped. It's also helping right now. Acknowledging that it had been a mistake, it doesn't make the "break up"-thing go away. But I feel like I still needed to hear that.

“It’s okay.”, I whisper.

He shakes his head. “It’s not.”, he says. “It wasn’t okay.”

“I know.” I reach for him, our fingers intertwining, my thumb softly caressing over the back of his hand. Our eyes meet and I can see his emotions in them, clearer than ever before. Not trying to hide them anymore. And I understand. A little smile stalks onto my face.

“Let’s just eat, okay?”

And I never have to tell him that twice.

After we finished up, he carries the plates and leftovers to the kitchen, refusing my help, and I finally take a seat on the big couch, slumping into the cushions.

König emerges in the doorframe, just standing there. Frozen in place. I put my phone down and for a moment we just look at each other. The same familiarity hits me, but the guilty look on his face tells me why he’s not moving an inch closer.

It's a bit ridiculous. We fucked, we ate together, we talked about some of the shit that went down. He apologized - again.

I softly pat the cushion beside me. “Come here.”

He’s taking a few steps, hesitatingly approaching and sitting down. But he stops there. I look up at him from the side, and I have never seen him so unsure. It's almost a little sweet.

Grabbing him, I pull him down to me and he just lets me. Positioning his head in my lap, cradling his face, and he lies down the feet dangling over the side of the couch. When my hand caresses over his chest, he sighs. Relaxing into the cushions. I can almost hear the weight drop from his shoulders as he melts into my touch. His hand clinging onto my arm. His brows turning up as he looks up at me.

For a moment we just sit in silence and I let the calmness flood me that his proximity brings. Playing with the long strands of his hair. Softly straightening out the waves that always form when they are freshly washed. Looking down at him.

“I don’t fucking deserve you.”, he whispers.

And there it is again. That sentence. It bothered me when I read it in the messages he sent. And then when he uttered them today.

I grab his face and make him look at me. Squishing his cheeks. “Don’t say that.”, I tell him, my voice trembling. “Don’t fucking say that.”

He stills, his eyes flitting between mine, his mouth dropping open a little.

“I didn’t- I…” I’ve almost never seen him speechless, but today every time I’ve said something that he seemingly didn’t expect he just looked at me like that.

“You think it's flattering or whatever. It’s not.”, I say, exasperated. “It’s like I’m on a fucking pedastal. It doesn’t make me fucking feel good, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. I don’t need anymore “sorry”s from him. “You already thought that before you broke up with me, didn’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding. Silence between us as I only look at him, reading what’s in his eyes.

“Beating yourself up over this isn’t gonna make either of us feel better. I don’t want you to grovel like a beaten dog. I just want you to be honest with me what’s going on in this thick head of yours.” Tapping on said thick head.

“Yeah, you fucking hurt me by just dropping me off in my flat and fucking off because you thought it was the right thing for both of us. I don’t need you to think for me. I just need you to talk to me.” Damn, I’m laying into him right now, but I fear otherwise I’m not gonna get through the thickheaded stubborness.

“I didn’t mean to go over your head like I did. I was too in my own head already, so it was the only thing that made sense to me.”, he says as calmly as he manages. “I thought it was the right thing for you.”

“Because you didn’t deserve me anyways and I would be better off with someone else, right?”, I summarize. I can’t help but sound a little bitter. And I realise now that that was the thing that hurt me the most.

He nods again.

I feel the jab in my heart. Not knowing what to say to that. It's not nice to have the person you're with express the sentiment that you should be with someone else. Well, it’s pretty fucking far from nice.

He casts his eyes down, fidgeting with his wristband, not daring to look at me. And I can practically feel his self-deprecation prickling at my fingertips, the hand still lying on his chest, clearer than ever before.

“I thought I would be selfish to have you wait for me. And I realised that the opposite is true. I was a coward, I just fucking ran away.”, he sighs, and I can hear the shame in his voice.

His hand clasps over mine, squeezing my fingers.

“You did.”, I simply say.

“And it didn’t fucking solve anything.” He laughs, a barking joyless laugh. “For the first time in a long time it was worse without someone else, you know.” He pauses for a moment, finally looking up at me again. You don't need to be Sherlock to know who he's talking about.

I nod, swallowing back my emotions again, squeezing his hand back. “And it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Fuck. I know, I just- wanna kick myself every time I think about it.” An exhausted and frustrated sigh rising up from deep in his chest. “I don't know what I can say to make it all okay again. I don't know what to tell you to-”

“Just show me.”, I interrupt him before he can go down that spiral. He stills

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His hand grabs mine a bit tighter. Pulling it up to his face and pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

I nod, a little smile stalking onto my face. “Okay, good.”, I say, adding a “And don't ever say you're undeserving again.”

“I won't.”

“Thank you.” I lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips, and he answers it like it holds the promise he just made.

When I pull back, I don’t get far cause he is cradling my cheek, not letting me go anywhere.

“Did anybody ever tell you that it’s hot when you get all bossy like that?”, he whispers, a small grin forming on his face.

“Yeah?”, I say, tongue in cheek. “You like getting ripped to shreds?”

“Only by you, Hexe.” which makes me laugh. “But I deserved it too.”, he says.

“You did a little bit.”, I say graciously, and we both laugh.

We just stay like this for a while, holding hands, and I can take a deep breath feeling most of the weight drop away from me that I felt walking into the living room.

He turns to the side, his cheek pressing against my belly as his arms close around me, around my waist. As close as he can get.

I’m brushing his hair out of his face, playing with it. Massaging his neck and shoulders, softly caressing.

He almost falls asleep like that, and I don't think I’ve ever seen him so peaceful. Deep calm breaths. Not a wrinkle on his forehead as I brush over it with my thumb. His eyebrows are turned up. Not even a hint of a frown on his face.

He grabs my hand, pressing sweet kisses to my fingers. “Stay with me.”, he whispers. “Please.”

“You sure?”, I ask.

He nods, not letting go of me. “I just want my bed and you in it, like I dreamed about those last few weeks. So… please?”

And it finally sinks in that the break was just as painful for him as it had been for me. Because I dreamed of the same thing. “Okay.”

He doesn't need anything else, just gets up off the couch, picking me up as well.

I can't help the giggle rising up my throat when my legs close around his hips and my lips find his neck, kissing the sensitive spots, the ones that always make him shiver. My fingertips are digging into his shoulders. The soft lingering touches I know will get him riled up.

He hums. “Glad to see that your ass is still as bratty as before.”, he grumbles, but he can't hide the grin as he playfully places the tiniest spank on said butt.

“Never.”, I tell him before he kicks open the bed room and lies me down on the bed.

We both scramble to get rid of our clothes, pulling them off quickly. He crawls over me, his dick nudging against my pussy while he settles between my thighs and his lips land on mine. His long hair falls over me like a veil, the tips tickling my naked skin.

His hand drops down, his fingers rubbing over my clit as he pushes into me. Carefully enough. And I sigh taking him in.

His mouth is coasting over my neck, making me shiver as he kisses, nibbles and bites. Leaving marks where anyone can see. Licking the sensitive skin, his tongue drawing wet tracks over it. His heavy breath hitting the shell of my ear as he pulls my head back and sucks on the sensitive spot right beneath it.

My fingers are digging into his shoulders and back, his muscles, leaving my own marks with my nails. Dropping down further until I grab his asscheeks, pulling him into me.

He chuckles, pushing deeper, his thrusts picking up pace. I arch my back to meet his movements, my chest against his, the sensations making me throw my head back.

His hand catches my chin, and he’s telling me: “Look at me, Liebes, please just look at me.”

My eyes meet his, a satisfied deep hum rising up his throat. And I never felt more at the center of anybody's attention than in that moment.

He turns, and suddenly I’m on top, riding him, my hands placed on his hairy chest. Slowly sliding up and down his length. One of his arms around my waist, the other on my ass guides me. I almost can't handle it, the way he fills me up in this position, his tip nudging against my cervix. But fuck. I have missed this.

Not just the sex. The closeness. The familiarity. Him.

König looks up at me, the same look on his face that I have seen a few times today, the one that I still can’t quite place what it means. But I love when he looks at me like that. If the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest is any indication.

We spend the rest of the day in bed, talking, fucking, listening to music, sometimes almost dozing off. Until it’s late, almost a bit too late.

My head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, his legs entangled with mine. His burly tattooed arms embracing me, pulling me against him. His cheek resting atop my forehead with the way I’m nuzzled into the crook of his neck, so his hair is tickling me when he moves a bit.

His body all around me, with nowhere else to go.

I didn’t like sleeping like this ever before I got to know him. But I really don’t mind anymore. I really don’t.

When I open my eyes the next morning, I need a moment to catch up where I am. König’s bedroom. In his bed, the soft sheets against my naked skin. I stretch a little and turn to the side, expecting to find him still fast asleep. But I’m greeted with a smile on his face, his eyes on me. Wide awake already.

“Good morning, Liebes.”, he says softly, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, and I have to swallow to not instantly burst into tears.

“Hi.”, I answer, trying a little wobbly smile.

His hand shoots out and he caresses over my cheek. A simple gesture, one he did so many times before, but right now it has me crying again.

“Oh Liebes.”, he coos as he sees the tear rolling down my face.

“I swear, I don't wanna cry! I must be getting my period or something.”, I grumble while he presses kisses to my cheeks, softly kissing away the tears.

“I’m gonna make you laugh and come twice as much for every time you cried.”, he says, and the twinkle in his eyes tells me that he is joking, yet at the same time seeming earnest.

I break out in laughter. “That would be a lot of jokes and a lot of orgasms.”, I gasp out, wiping the wetness from my cheeks.

He leans down and gives me a kiss. “That’s okay. Cause I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls back a bit.

“Don't make any promises you can't keep.”, I say.

“I wouldn’t.”, he says, his voice serious and his gaze soft. “I promise.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Now let me start with it. I already got a laugh out of you.”

“You insatiable man. Let me go get my teeth brushed first or-”

“No time!”, he exclaims, pulling away the blanket, to position himself between my legs.

I burst into laughter again, the sounds turning into moans when he pulls away my panties and puts his mouth on me.

“Another laugh… that means I need to keep up with the orgasms.”, he quips, mischief lighting up his eyes as his tongue dips into me.

I sigh, snuggling myself back into the comfy sheets, grinding my hips against his face. Meticulously he eats me out, getting all sloppy with it.

His hands are grabbing the swells of my ass, my legs over his shoulders, until he is buried between my thighs. They are littered with all the marks he left there. Faint bites and hickeys. And he’s leaving even more. Oh god, I missed them.

He spits once before his fingers push into me, soft squelching when he fills me up. I’m still a little sleepy, yawning once while I stretch. Meeting his movements and touches.

“Feels so good.”, I tell him, and a little smile forming on his lips as I look down at him.

“Yeah?”, he quips, his thumb rubbing over my clit while he fingerfucks me, slow and deliberately.

I barely can hold the eye contact, almost a little shy, although we did this what feels like a million times. “Yeah.”

He slips his fingers out of me, taking over with his mouth again. I feel the wetness on his fingers as he grabs my thigh again, his fingertips pressing into the plush.

In the time apart nothing had changed about this. It still feels like he has memorized every little part of me, which buttons to push to make me cry out.

His own moans and grunts give away just how much he enjoys this, and I don’t think I will ever get enough of him. Seeing how his hips restlessly move, almost fucking into the mattress, while his tongue dips into me, fucking into me, over and over again, it does something to me as well.

When he nips at my clit, I jolt, my hips lifting off the mattress, but he doesn’t let me go anywhere. Repeating the same move and I come on his face. My back arching, my fingers grabbing at the sheets, curses dropping from my lips.

With a deep breath I look at him again, the big man still very comfortable between my legs, his chin and lips glistening with moisture before he wipes it away.

“And that’s the first one.”, he says with a little grin, and I can’t help the little laugh.

I sit up and grab him. “Yeah, but it’s your turn now.”, I tell him as I pull him up to me, needing him closer.

A wry smile adorns his face. “I’m sorry, Liebes, I already...”

“You… what?”, I ask a little dumbfounded. Looking down while he sits back on his knees, his tummy all sticky, coated in his come. The sheets beneath him soiled, like he humped himself to completion spilling all over them, while eating me out. My jaw drops. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

This man. The lop-sided smirk, making him look younger than he is. The long hair all messy. Not ashamed in the slightest that he came like that, just eating me out.

“Just give me a few minutes, okay?” He grins down at me as he crawls over me. “And maybe a shower.”

“But I need to get to work!”, I tell him.

“Who said, you'll ever leave this house again?”

“König!”

“I’m keeping you.”, he says, like a definite statement, while he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Brute.”, I say poutily while I can't hold back my giggles.

He just laughs, grabbing my ass as he carries me to the bathroom. “Gonna fuck you in the shower, two birds with one stone. Still need to make you come one more time.”, he lays out his plan.

And I could never say no to that, could I?

We manage to be on time though, even drinking a coffee in the kitchen together, and then he drives me to work.

He also picks me up again, not ready to spend any possible moment apart.

The stupidest biggest grin stalks onto my face when I head out of the office and see his car already parked, faint drum and bass sounds penetrating through. I run up to it and open the door, recognizing the song as Shadow of Intent’s ‘Oudenophobia’, one of the songs I showed him some time ago.

I get into the passenger seat, his hands already grabbing me before I’m properly sitting. Pressing his lips to mine in a kiss. The simple greeting turning into something else with the way he kisses me. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hi.”, I finally manage to say, a little out of breath.

“Sorry, missed you all day.”, he whispers apologetically, backing off a bit, just looking at me.

“No, come back here.”, I say, my hand grabbing his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and I pull him down to me again for another kiss.

When he pulls back now, he’s grinning down at me. And I don’t need to tell him that I missed him too. He knows.

König straightens up in his seat, shifts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. (The only thing he ever pulls out of, really)

“What’s the plan for today, Prinzesserl?”, he asks me then.

“Oh oh, there is this new Asian fusion place that opened up a few weeks ago.”, I say. “I haven’t been yet.”

He pulls up his eyebrows. “Asian fusion?”

“Yes.”, I say. “They have all kinds of stuff from all over.”

“Spring rolls too?”

“I bet.” I grin up at him.

“Then let’s go.”, he says, the expression on his face mirroring mine.

I sit back, crossing my legs and snuggling into my seat. His hand lands on my thigh and mine clasps over it.

It’s like he never left. Well almost, at least.

And I know that not everything’s forgotten. It doesn’t work like that. My heart is content, but my mind is still catching up. Sometimes thinking about what he said when he left. The promises he made when he came back. Working out how this relationship between us will be from now on. Working with him on that, for both our sakes.

Because despite what happened and my efforts while he was gone... I still do love him.

And we both deserve it.

the whole story in the Masterlist

i'm sorry, i'm so in love with this man that isn't real :') (well, he is, in my mind)

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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