#sorry anon your ask is perfect i have nothing to add

[schumi-nadal]

Wow, I didn't think that post would get me even more hate to be honest 😅

First of all, I wasn't talking about ALL Carlos fans but about some "fans" (you can't call them like that, not after the really harsh words I received) who came into my asks when i asked nothing: I never was mean about Carlos, i didn't even defend Charles. I only posted 2-3 things related to this Charlos gate or whatever the fandom is calling it.

Here are some of the posts in questions:

After the first one, I received insults (anons and non anons, I don't know what is worst, that's what I was talking about them being younger and not knowing how the Schumi era and baby Shumi era were, (the non-anos were 17-18) because people misunderstood it (or understood what they wanted to understand).

After one or two more posts after the end of the race, it escalated very quickly, I received death threats! That's very serious! How can it come to this for a FUCKING sport? There are more serious things in life!

So, yeah, I was quite pissed after that.

Also, I didn't even defend Charles in my post, rereading now and I undertand I may have sound like I did but I'm French and I may have translated word by word what i wanted to say (it's a bit complicated but we sometimes use "you" to talk about people + ourserlves in some sketchy expressions). Anyway, what he said was definitely inappropriate and very "childish" in a way. Those words should had been spoken in private with his team and Carlos, not in front of million of people; and I think if FIA penalised swear words, they should start looking at those kind of statements.

Also, for those saying that I would be the kind of person to insult their favorite driver(s), you don't know me, you can even check my blog if you have nothing more interesting to do (lol), I never insulted anyone like some people do in f1blr. We can dislike or even hate a driver with our whole being, that's ok, for each their own I guess. We can't love everyone, you have the right to defend your favs, that's our choice too, but don't go and roast people when they didn't even say something wrong in the first place. (again, i hope those anons are reading it)

I never got haters before today (just one a few months ago with tennisblr but it was more a troll more than anything else) I usually don't interract a lot because I don't like conflicts but receiving multiple insults for something I can't control: I'm not Charles, I can't control what he says, I'm not a Carlos hater neither, i'm just here, blogging and reblogging stuff I love, mostly sports, sometimes with my particular sense of humor.

Nobody is perfect for sure, and I'm sorry if some of you thought I was just calling out Carlos or defending Charles. He may be one of my favourite drivers, just like other drivers can be yours: all of them are not flawless and we may continue to like them or not after different sorts of situations, that's up to us.

To finally finish my thesis (sorry if you're still reading), I didn't know that I would be so stressed on tumblr one day (call me a sensitive person) but this website is my sanctuary, I hope it will stay like that for a very long time but you can't be appreciated by the whole world, I lost some of my mutuals and i accept that. This morning's messages went too far and that's not normal to say thing like that, no matter how peacecul I am, I had to call them out. Also, on my other fandoms, you can share thought without (or almost) getting attacked verbally, that's sad that it's not the same anymore here, but yeah, football is the same.

You can choose to answer or not, I won't block anyone because I don't feel the need to, opinions can be shared but respectfully, I would be happy to talk more if some of you are up to.

So, I don't know what to add, have a great end of the season, everyone!

i don't know if everyone who reblogged or commented can see it when I reblog it so i'm tagging y'all: @midesastremanifiesto , @janesurlife , @gaypoetsblog , @katarf1a , @chaitalinath , @danieldrivesfast , @landhoe-norris , @eightsixtiism

One thing is funny about being insulted by all those Carlos "fans" (won't call them real fans tbh he deserves way better than toxic people): I was already watching F1 that they were not born, if you think that Charles was shitty today, just remember we had Michael Schumacher as the most dramatic queen ever and Sebastian Vettel was a little Gremlin at some points. REAL FANS WERE NOT FIGHTING FOR THAT!

[jellyfitzjelly]

Hi! How about hair pulling + hellforge? I can see Dammon loving it when Zevlor pulls his hair during sex. Like he adores the feeling of Zevlor’s claws in his hair, gripping the strands for dear life as Dammon pounds the old man into the mattress

Zevlor claws at his back and pulls on his hair and Dammon LOVES it!

[corrodedcoughin]

Fantasy au where a group of travelers are escaping the kingdom of Hawkins. They hear of a hidden city - rumoured to keep all outcasts safe from the king of Hawkins’ tyrannical rule, under the protection of a guild of powerful mages and warriors.

They’re given a link, a super secret contact to meet in an inn the town over that will help them escape and find said city.

They come face to face, Strider in fellowship of the ring - style, with Eddie the Banished - gaze sharp and intimidating. They’ve heard the rumours- Hawkins runs rampant with stories of his alleged crimes - namely involving the missing crown prince. Every layman has their version, but it all chalks up to the same fallen Hero and great Villain story.

It’s clear that he is skeptical and very protective of who he brings with him into the city, but the owners of the inn - a gentle lady by the name of Joyce and her equally intimidating husband, Hopper, vouch for them.

It takes some time to get there, they don’t take a direct route to avoid ambushes and the like.

Eddie neither confirms nor denies the stories, in fact he stokes the flames and plays it up - they act as additional protection and armor, an air of “don’t fuck with us.”

Through the bravado and exaggerated stories, they start to learn bits and pieces about Eddie along the way - things that don’t add up. He wears lots of jewellery - he jingles like a cat with a bell when he struts - but one of the party points out that a lot of them look like protection charms, each handmade, possibly by children judging by the make.

He flirts like nobody’s business, but it never goes past that. They had to flee a tavern one time when Eddie blows up over a patron who couldn’t take a “no” a few times too many.

Among his jewellery, Eddie wears a lot of rings. Stacks of silver, gaudy and eccentric, though they spend enough time traveling together to start noticing the sole gold band on his left ring finger.

They do get ambushed once - but manage to fight it off mostly unscathed. Eddie plays it off as usual, but one of them notices him twisting said gold band, brow pinched at night when no one is looking.

He’s also surprisingly sweet - he’s always nice to the kids he encounters, always treats the waitstaff at taverns and shops with respect, he’s protective over the younger members of the travel party when they encounter someone particularly rowdy. They also notice how he picks up little things along the way - snack cakes, hand carved die. “Little gifts,” he tells one of them, with a lopsided grin.

Maybe Eddie the Banished isn’t the villain of this story after all.

When they reach the city - it’s relief - for once in their lives the air tastes like freedom. A bunch of people are there to welcome them and show them around, but mainly they’re there for Eddie. He’s nearly swallowed by a swarm of children, and catches his arms around a girl with mousey brown, shaggy hair (“Birdie” they hear him call her - they think she’s his betrothed for a hot second) before the small sea of people part, and the group of travelers still.

Because at the center of the crowd, though a few years older and in looser, more comfortable clothing than they’ve ever seen him in before, is Crown Prince Steve Harrington.

And before they can think to do anything, Eddie is dropping all of his weapons, bravado completely dropping, face blown open with relief. Then he’s running, and wrapping the other man so tightly in an embrace that they can’t tell which limb belongs to who. They watch them sway gently in the middle of the city square.

“I kept my promise. I came back to you,” they hear Eddie murmur with such reverence, foreheads touching, hands cupping the other man’s face with such gentleness -

And then they’re being ushered away towards the baths, “Birdie” talking a mile a minute about how they must be tired and how they should give the lovebirds a second.

And maybe the rumours and stories were wrong. Maybe it’s a story about freedom and love instead.

Anon…you don’t underSTAND I’ve been craving a fantasy book for so long and this is exactly what I NEED. please I am begging at your table for any scraps you care to share PLEASE 🙏

[chilisworld55]

Your fics are sooooo good!!! The spanish is just the best part!! As a fic idea👀👀 spending summer with Carlos at mallorca!!

Sunburnt dinners, him loosing his mind over how cute you look a little sunburnt with your bikinis and summer dresses

hello anon! thank you so much, i really appreciate it 🫶🏻 I didn’t know if you wanted it to me a smut of just fluff but here you go!

🌶️ warnings: none. just Carlos simping over his fiancé, complimenting her so much

a/n: hihi! i hope you liked this and im sorry if there is any mistake, i’ll try to improve. Feel free to leave feedbacks, requests or anything else!

It was summer time. Your fiancé, Carlos, surprised you with tickets for both of you to spend a week at Mallorca, a beautiful island in Spain, perfect place to visit in summer.

Carlos is a morning person and wanted to make the most of the few vacation days he had with you. Some days he wakes up early and likes to take you to have breakfast near the beach, other days he likes to cook breakfast himself before taking you for a walk over touristic places, showing new things about his beautiful country.

Then, he made sure not to forget about taking his girl to the beach as well, spending your afternoons there, drinking a couple of cocktails, relaxing under the sun, watching the sunset which is a gorgeous view but for Carlos, you are always his best view.

You’ve noticed that by the way he always has his eyes on you and how he simply cannot keep his hands for himself, always grabbing you, touching you in any way. oh he loves your little outfits for the summer and the sunburns adds the perfect spark to it. You are driving him crazier as the days pass by.

…

It was the last day you were staying in Mallorca, tomorrow morning you were taking a flight back home with Carlos. The plan for today was having a romantic dinner at a restaurant but you wanted to have a little walk around the island to watch the sunset before that.

You were standing in front of the big mirror at the hotels room, getting ready, doing your makeup and wearing those summer dresses that you loved for how comfy and cute they were. Your fiancé was all dressed up already in some casual clothes, nothing too fancy.

You noticed Carlos stare on you all the time, as you got out from the shower, as you were choosing your clothes, putting them on and now.

“You’ve been staring at me the whole time. Tienes algo que decir?” Do you have something to say? You said, looking at the man sitting over the edge of the bed over the mirror, just right behind you.

“Solo una cosa… y es que te ves tan jodidamente hermosa” just one thing… that you look so freaking stunning. He said, eyes not looking away from your body, obviously checking you out.

“Oh really? thank you, amor, but if you keep staring at me for too long, i might melt” you giggled, turning around now that you’re done with your makeup. “ready now!”

“Wait, come over here. Date una vueltecita” do a little spin for me. He signaled with his fingers and you laughed, doing as he asked before walking over to him.

Once he had you close enough, his hands found their way to your bare waist, pulling you even closer to his body. Your dress had slits there and your back was completely exposed so you could feel his warmth against your skin.

“I think this is my favorite outfit on you so far… i mean you always look so pretty and beautiful but oh my god. i love it” he checked you out for the probably fifth time in the night, fingertips gently caressing your skin. “te ves tan mona, como una princesa, mi princesa” you look so cute, like a princess, my princess.

“yeah? then i should wear it more often so I can be your princess more often” you smiled, hands on his shoulders as he stood up. Carlos leaned down a little to place soft kisses on your lips and cheeks, his beard ticking you a little.

“Doesn’t the ring on your finger means that you’re my princess already? or even better, you’re my queen. Always.” he whispered, leaving a last kiss with a “muaw” sound. “Eres toda mía, cariño” you’re all mine, love.

“And you’re gonna steal all the cameras! The paparazzi are going to be taking photos of this beautiful woman instead of me” he faked a pout, being dramatic as always.

You playfully hit his shoulder. “Hey! you know that’s not true” you giggled at his pout and couldn’t help but kiss those puffy lips that always drive you crazy.

“Con ese vestido de seguro que si” with that dress, i’m pretty sure. He walked closer to the mirror, gently turned around so you’re looking at yourself in it. “Es que mírate” Look at you.

“Nunca me voy a cansar de decirte que me traes loco” im never gonna get tired of telling you that you drive me crazy.

…

And then you were late for dinner, but still got to have your romantic date. Carlos continued on complimenting every single thing about you, specially about how good you looked, but as much as he loved your outfit, as soon as you came back to the hotel room, the dress didn’t stayed on for much longer :)

[phntmeii]

Hil

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?

Sorry I don't know if that's too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much!

Being Stronger than Slashers .

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Thomas Hewitt x petite!strong!Reader General Warnings: Descriptions of Gore/Blood, Violence, Slightly OOC, Descriptions of panic attack/episode, Manipulative behavior mention

A/N: ty anon for request <33 Back to slashers :) Sad I haven’t posted more of them literally in Halloween month but I’m working on it (last second lol) </33

Bo Sinclair

Absolutely turned on to the fucking max when he sees your strength.

Small, sweet partners was always his type. He just loves fulfilling the typical male stereotype of being a protector over his partner.

When he turned the corner, looking to finish off the last victim of the lot within his abandoned town, only to see something better.

He watched as you effortlessly were carrying the body of the victim over your shoulder like it was nothing. Head completely caved in, more of a mass of flesh and blood than an identifiable person. Your other hand held a bloodied hammer.

Bo was completely still, but not of fear. He was standing there like a man who had completely re-fallen in love again.

His eyes were shining as his grin grew wide. Approaching, he was nothing but prideful.

His voice was light with a chuckle, thumb brushing away the blood on your cheek. “Shit, sweetheart… Never knew a pretty girl like you was so… strong. I love it.”

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent was overprotective a lot of the time. He was insistent you were never near his work nor would you be involved when victims were in town.

He loved you too much to have you a part of him and his brothers’ work.

Vincent was slightly startled, hearing the door of his studio open. He knew both his brothers were out.

Seeing it was you, he approached, silently looking down at you. You could tell there was an air of disappointment at you being in his studio when he didn’t want you to be.

A ragged, strained voice spoke from behind his mask, “Why?”

With a shrug of your shoulders and a smile, you walked past him, further into the studio. “Bo said he needed a box in here.”

Watching you walk past, his eyes were hidden but widened as he watched you easily lift up a heavy table to look under it, scrolling past the items underneath it.

He approached confused but didn’t stop you. “Oh! Here it is!” Your arms held up a filled box of tools and parts.

Vincent followed you around curiously for the rest of the day like a shadow. He was completely fascinated by your strength, wanting to see it again.

Once you returned from helping Bo, Vincent couldn't let go of you. He kept his arms around you, head on your shoulder. His quiet, strained voice simply said, "Show me again... Please?"

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal always held an air of curiosity about you. Your sweet nature was like an untainted part of his life. A woman so far from himself.

Hannibal’s curiosity was never-ending. He took advantage of his intelligence to learn as much as he could. Stalking, Manipulative behaviors in “therapy”, etc.

You were almost always at his place. He liked it better that way although it provided some maintenance when it came to his extracurricular activities.

Hannibal had been making another of his fancy dinners for the two of you. The presentation had to be precise and perfect. Presentation was half the work for him.

He absentmindedly spoke while you were cutting vegetables beside him, “I have not set the chairs. I will do so in a moment, my love.”

Immediately, you wanted to assist. You always liked helping out. “I’ve got it!”

Watching you walk away, he expected to finish his current task before going off to assist you. Instead, he looked up to the doorway to see you easily walking past with a heavy wooden chair in each hand, easily carrying the two like they were just a stack of papers.

A small smirk curled at his lips as his hands slowed in their work. He whispered to himself, knowing his eager curiosity was not wasted, “You are… a delight, my love. You will make for something truly wonderful.”

Will Graham

Will was someone who was vigilant and aware. His mind always raced a million miles an hour with tiny observations and connections.

There was something about you but he just couldn’t place it.

But, what was there to prove? You were sweet and kind, seeming so far from what he knew. That was part of why he held love for you—You weren’t him.

Will was in his head again, silently panicked by his own mind. It was torturous to live in a prison of his own violent thoughts.

You were someone who always noticed. Always could pick up when these episodes started.

Holding his hands and speaking sweetly to him to draw him back to reality, unfortunately, wasn’t working this time.

His eyes kept darting back and forth while his breath quickened. With him standing still, quivering, you had to make the choice.

With simple ease, you picked Will up bridal style, walking away with him.

It took him a moment to realize what happened, breaking out of being inside his head. His eyes just stared at you when he was placed onto his bed, sweat drenching his forehead.

He broke out into a small smile, absentmindedly licking his lips, as was his habit. "I... didn't know you could do that."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No. It's... really attractive, actually."

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy was always a protector. Toward his family, it was evident. A given. Toward you, it was an inherent need.

The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be hurt, especially when victims come around.

He would lead you and Luda Mae into a room, having you two barricade it while him and Hoyt took care of the unfortunate victims who made their way to the wrong home.

You waited, albeit anxiously. And it only grew once you heard a loud thud followed by Hoyt's yelling.

"Goddammit, Tommy! The fuck are you doin'?"

Immediately you knew something went wrong. Despite Luda Mae trying to keep you in the room, you ripped away the makeshift barricade on the door and rushed out.

Tommy was on all fours, holding the side of his head. A man, you assumed one of the few victims, held a hammer in his hand. He quivered holding it, as if horrified by his own self-defense.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest chair, pulling back and cracking it hard against the man. Aimed for his head, he dropped to the floor unconscious by the impact.

You rushed over to Tommy's side, panicked. "Tommy! Tommy! God- Are you okay?"

His arm just instinctively shot out and held you to his body, protecting you in his mind. He opened his eyes and looked past you to see the victim with broken wooden pieces of the chair on top of him.

With his mask on, his expression was hidden. But inside, his heart warmed at how you were strong enough to protect him too. His own protector.

[kamii-2]

omg!!! you should do a paige x softball player!reader fic where paige and the reader are in situationship and reader wants to make things official and paige doesn’t fully know what she wants until it’s like one of readers big games and paige is there in readers jersey and asks her after they win!

i read your kk hcs and saw the a/n and was like omg i love that bc 1)i’m a softball player 2)i love paige sm!

hi anon! i love this idea so much but im gonna change it up (i dont like the idea of paige wearing readers jersey but i like everything else) sorry if its nothing how you wanted it, if you want me to redo it just ask :) !!

warning(s): none (surprisingly)

genre: fluff

pairing(s): paige bueckers x softball player!reader

not proofread (i keep forgetting to add this 😭)

==================================

today was senior night and one of the most important softball games, paige and a few of your other friends were coming as well. you and her had been messing around for a few months now and you were starting to fall deep in love with her.

everything about her made you feel weak in the knees. her smile, her voice, the way she treats you, everything.

-

it was and hour and 30 minutes before the game and you were in your off-campus apartment getting ready. you were putting all of your things in your bag when you got a facetime call from paige. you answered and propped your phone up on the desk in your room, continuing to shove things in your softball bag. “hey.” she said with the phone set up in kk’s room somewhere. “hi.” you say back, “why’d you call?” you asked her. “to tell you that ice and kk are coming with me.” she answered, you smiled and said “okay, well i have to go get dressed so i’ll talk to you later. bye!” you said before hanging up.

you walked over to the uniform sprawled all over your bed and put it on. after you put it on you went in the bathroom and put your hair in a low ponytail. when you were done you put on some slides, grabbed your phone and keys, then went to your car to head to the field.

-

when you got to the field the game was starting in an hour and 13 minutes. the field was ready and most of your teammates were there. “hey y/n.” one of your teammates said as you walked in the dugout. “hi.” you said with a smile and clipped your bag to the fence, grabbing your cleats out and sitting on the bench to put them on. “are you ready for senior night?” another teammate asked you while sitting down next to you, “yes but i’m gonna miss you guys.” you said in a sad-ish tone.

after you got your shoes on, you talked with your teammates and coaches till the other team arrived at 5:00. the game started at 6:00 so this gave both teams an hour to practice before it started. you got a catching partner and threw back and forth till your coach called you guys over to practice batting and fielding.

-

it was currently 5:55 and both teams were in the dugout waiting for the game to start. when paige, kk, and ice got there you came out the dugout and said hi and giving them each a hug then going back in.

since you guys are home team you’re in the field first. you waited for coach to you where to go, “y/n, you’re gonna pitch.” he told you, you nodded and put your glove and face mask on.

you got some practice pitches in and the in and out fielders threw a ball around. at 6:00 the first batter walked up and got ready, you pitched right down the middle, she she swung and it went straight to you. you caught it and she was out.

-

in was now the last inning and you were on third base. your teammate had one more strike before she was out and you guys lost. the pitcher pitched a perfect pitch and your teammate swung, it went in between second and first and you ran to home. the pitcher had the ball when you about to be at home so you slid and the pitcher tripped and landed on you really hard, her face mask flew off her face.

you were safe but your hips hurt really bad and you were gonna be bruised and hurting worse for sure tomorrow. besides everything that jsut happened, you sat up after the other girl got up and cheered, winning one of the most important games of the season.

-

you were in the dugout sitting on the bench with your head thrown back, when ice and kk came in. “where’s paige?” you asked as they sat next to you. “she had to go back to her dorm real quick but she’ll be back in a little bit.” kk said. “i bet your hips hurt.” ice said while looking at you. “they do and bad but it’s fine it’ll go away.” you said while standing up, wincing in pain.

they got up and walked out the dugout while you put your stuff in your bag and said bye to them. now it was time for senior night.

“first up we have y/n l/n, she can play any position and is one of your best pitchers. despite being super clumsy and somewhat reckless, she’s one of our best players.” the coach looked over at you and you limped over to her, stand next to her at the pitching mound. “now on to her stats.” she said as she flipped to a page full of numbers, “she has played all 20 games we’ve been in so far, batted 28 times, struck out twice, hit by pitch 6 times, got on base by hitting 16 times, and got on base by balls 4 times. her highlights of the season are hitting 3 home runs, 1 grand slam, and been the winning runner 4, now 5, times.” your coach informed everyone while you stood next to her smiling super big. “y/n is a great player and i’m gonna miss her when she leaves.” your coach was tearing up and she turned to you and gave you a big hug, and you returned it, starting to cry too.

your turn was done so you walked back into the dugout being hugged by everyone and staying for everyone else’s turn.

-

it was 9:04 and you were walking out the dugout going to find paige and her friends. they were standing by the bleachers talking, “hey guys.” you said to them and they went up to you and said hi and gave you guys and were talking about the game. “are your hips okay?” paige asked you, “they hurt alot but it’ll go away eventually.” you said while placing your heavy bag on the ground.

“well me and kk are gonna go back to our dorm, our uber is here.” ice said and she game you one last hug before walking away, kk giving you a hug and leaving.

“y/n i have a question for you and something for you in my car.” paige said as she grabbed your hands. “what is it?” you asked her. “y/n l/n will you please be my girlfriend?” said asked with a smile and grabbing your waist softly so she didn’t hurt you. “yes, yes i will!” you said as you gave her a kiss.

she kissed back then quickly pulled away. “i have a big as basket full of stuff for you. i had nika and azzi help me pick out things for it.” she said as she held your hand started to walk. you grabbed your bag and followed her, “im excited to see it.” you replied as she took you to her car to get the basket. she opened the car door and handed the basket to you.

“thank you so much p.” you said to her giving the taller girl a kiss. “you’re welcome baby, ill see you tomorrow.” she smiled and got in her car to leave.

==================================

sorry if this sucks 😭 but anyway i hope you enjoy, have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I’ve read a variation of soft and rough König and I’ve enjoyed both but I’d love to see your take on his character.

I can’t deny I have a preference for soft König. I think his size is a major concern, especially if his partner is on the smaller side, which leads me to believe he’d prolong the inevitable and the pining and anticipation would be off the charts on his end. But maybe his SO thinks he’s not as interested as she initially thought.

Add in the fact that he’s gone for long periods of time in which there is little or no communication and perhaps she considers moving on. The ol’ miscommunication trope if you will, with a happy ending. Thanks!

Overflow the Stars

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Synopsis: One more abandoned date night later, you're left wondering if the man you're infatuated with is really interested in you at all.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Angst, feelings of insecurity, body issues, allusions to König's past w. bullying & his anxiety, size difference, fluff, soft!König, happy ending

A/N: This is my apology to the German-speaking people out there - I think I butchered your language (feel free to correct me). I'm so sorry lmfao. But, Anon, this request was adorable to write, hope you enjoy it!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wanted to say you were surprised when he didn't show up – really, you did – but in the back of your mind, you already knew he wouldn’t. It was hard not to feel disappointed when you swirled your tiny cup of Franziskaner tensely, watching the whipped cream sink away into the concoction of dark espresso and milk; calling attention to the same feeling in your chest.

König had a strange habit as of late, and with a delicate furrow in your brow and perhaps even a smidge of sadness in your eyes, you wondered what you had done wrong. Why had he been avoiding you so…violently? While you wouldn’t have called yourself perfect by any means, nothing you had done over the course of your meetings was strange or downright embarrassing. 

You admitted that the man had never been the type to run away from something, and sighed as you brought the cup to your lips and sipped. Caffeine sits on your tongue along with a bitter revelation as the rain begins to pick up in velocity outside. The small and quiet café where you’re spending your afternoon is warm and unburdened by the weather. 

Do you think…he’s even interested in me anymore? The sharp thought brings a pang to your chest, fingers over the warm cup flinching back as if struck with lightning. O-or he doesn’t like being around me?

Your relationship was still new, very new, and if you were asked you would say it wasn’t even dating yet. König hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend. 

But it had still been going well.

“Or so I thought,” you take a breath, watching the fog on the window as the streets of Vienna are rapidly being emptied of tourists and locals alike. Your shoulders are painfully tight.

Aggressive rainfall like this into the cold seasons was unusual, but it wasn’t like mother nature cared about the whims of anyone but herself. It’ll freeze overnight, leaving a bitter chill that puffs from breaths and a shaky few steps out the door across hardened ice. You’d probably go out – alone – for a walk in the morning to clear your head, or try, at any rate.

Lately, all you could think about was the bear of a man that was supposed to be sitting in the empty seat ahead of you. The cursed wooden chair burns your eyes; its dark wood and red cushion stab your vision over and over until you’re sure you’ll bleed tears instead of water. 

He was supposed to be here.

Taking another shaky sip of your drink, one that König had recommended to you himself a few dates ago, the brief moments of warmth it brings to your bones does little to satisfy you. You doubted anything short of a hulking figure trying to stick their knees under the small table could do just that.

The giant man you called your possible future boyfriend was avoiding you, and your subconscious was breaking itself to try and understand why. As if that gracious plea had been heard above the glossiness of your eyes and the gentle hum of the café workers who shuffle about, the phone in your pocket jumps. 

You don’t want to admit how fast your hand snapped to your thigh, sneaking under the layers to draw out black metal. A single link to König when he was overseas or out of sight that you were told was unwise to use. He was rarely able to answer you, but for what it was worth, he always tried to call back later. 

Even if recently, it had been a brief state of events. 

“I-I can’t talk right now–”

“Forgive me–”

Your lips thin.

Pulling the phone out, you immediately look at the contact, though you already know the message before you read it. The sunken whipped cream finally falls under deep chocolate-colored waves.

“Sorry, Bӓrchen, I’m stuck in the building for the day! I swear I’ll make it up to you for missing–” You don’t bother reading the rest, thumb already scrolling upward to see the numerous times other excuses have been made. 

His parents were needing some help moving furniture, he was drowning in post-operation reports, or simply just too tired. You weren't stupid. But every time you had stuffed down your pride and responded cheerfully, dressed to the nines and standing in your living room while your fingers shook over the keys.

Holding back tears. 

It would hurt less if he’d just tell you to your face what you were thinking. Maybe all of this was just… 

Your thoughts trail off. 

But that didn’t make sense – König was never malicious!

Placing down the phone, you leave him on read, feeling the pitying eyes of the baristas burning into your skin like a brand. They knew as well as you did that he wasn’t showing up.

When he calls sometime later, you shut the device off completely. Staring out the window at the dimming light, you lean your head into the glass and try not to cry as you watch couples rushing for cover from the rain; laughing and holding the other close. 

The empty chair stays motionless in the corner of your eye.

—

The first time you met König, you were left gaping at the sheer size of him. 

Towering over ninety percent of the other patrons in the art shop, he had looked down at the package of charcoal pencils in his large, scarred, hands. Turning them over to read the description on the back like an expert with delicate eyelashes that you’d kill for. 

You yourself had been cast in his shadow quite by accident, looking along expansive shelves for a sketchbook – your friend had gotten into a watercolor phase lately, and what better to give her than a birthday present she could actually use? The only problem was that you had no idea what was considered good quality or not, but had a strange suspicion the man beside you did. But what a happy accident it all turned out to be.

König had a black surgical mask on, but the milky-white scar that ran up his right eyebrow and disappeared into his auburn hairline was still starkly visible. Expressive dark eyes blink down at his object from a surprising height. Between picking up multiple books, running your fingers over the paper and whatnot, you can’t help but stare at the pure strength the man emanates. Compared to you, he was utterly gargantuan in both mass and height. A bear and a bee, you thought with a stifled giggle.

He blatantly appeared to know more about this stuff than you did as he placed the charcoal pack down and picked up another.  

“Erm,” you begin, and his head snaps down to yours immediately, head of hair falling into gentle curls near the ears. He had looked partially surprised to hear you speak to him, and his eyes had flickered around instinctually. But it was only the two of you in the aisle. “I’m sorry to bother you, Sir, but you seem to know a helluva lot more than me about art supplies.” Your voice was cautious, and you were afraid you’d seem rude for disturbing him, but all he did was stare and wait for you to finish speaking. Feet every so often shifting, or his hands twitching as if he never was able to stay still; he blinks a few times like a rabbit. “Any suggestions for watercolor?” A small laugh meets the air as you move your hand to show off the wall of possible options for paper. “I’m not much of an artist, but my friend’s birthday is coming up – thought I’d get her something she’d actually use this year. She wasn't too enthralled with the plant I got her for her twenty-third. Killed the thing in a week.” 

A nervous chuckle is softly met and your face heated as his own did. There’s a moment of a clearing throat before the man nods carefully, and the sparse freckles over his forehead shift. His biceps flex.

“O-of course, Ma’am,” his accent is quite strong, and you like the guttural raspiness of his tone. “I prefer Saunders Waterford, though I don’t manage to use it often. Better, eh, was ist das Wort?” He stumbles for a moment over the proper descriptor. “Beständig. Durable.”

A tilt of his head later, and you’re beaming, picking up the large pad with careful fingers, testing the weight in your palms as one would an apple. 

“Wonderful! It looks like I owe you one, eh?” Looking back up, you watch his eyes widen as you notice him blatantly staring. Face crinkling into a shy display of heat and curiosity, he slightly moves back, a large hand going to scratch at the base of his neck as his sweatshirt bunches. 

Chest tight, you stick out a hand and offer your name with a smile. It was only customary, but the action was pure instinct more than thought-out. All the while restraining a shiver, his limb encompasses yours so completely and radiates a large amount of heat.

“A pleasure,” your voice wavers, but it’s not so much nervousness as it is genuine intrigue. For a man so blessed with the tall gene, he really had a considerate hold – barely squeezing your skin in fear it would break. 

The action makes your chest squeeze.

“Ah, guten tag,” he utters, nodding with a firm shake, though his eyelashes caress his cheeks as his eyes rove away, “König.” 

A bit awkward, isn’t he? You have to ask yourself. Not that it was a bad thing – in fact, you found the nervous tensing of his thighs to be cute, along with that red tinge that was over his pale ears. So very opposite of how you expected him to act.

That was when you noticed the dog tags, as well, though you found no purpose to say anything. But everything about this man had caught your attention as a large billboard would, and the comparison has you practically bending in laughter. He probably could be a billboard with a build like that. No doubt he’d catch a lot of attention.

You tilt your head and release his hand, nodding to König’s charcoal pencils. 

“I bet you can make some killer drawings with those things, huh?” The beast twists them in his hand and turns down to stare at the supplies as if he’d forgotten they’d been there at all. “You draw often?”

“Ja,” his eyes brighten, and the crinkling of his eyes tells you that a small smile pulls at his lips. “Whenever I’m able. I,” König pauses before his shoulders move in a soft movement akin to a shrug. “I…find it calming.” 

Your ribs move in reaction to an interested sound. 

A bear that likes to draw.

“You’re better than me, I’d just get frustrated if something doesn’t look right.” A deep laugh echoes off the shelves before a lapsing silence settles like a bird’s wings. Overcome by a sudden urge to speak, yet having no other words to say, König’s voice meets your ears before you can find something to say.

It’s slow, the tone, bathed in hesitation and even a smidgen of armor; like the outcome of your response was already measured and taken as null compared to the giant’s own thoughts.

“I…don’t suppose I could show you some if you’d be interested.” At your widening lids, his twitching hands come up to his sides, eyes blinking rapidly as a vermilion hue blossoms like a flower over his visible skin. Dark eyes like broken obsidian pay more attention to your shoes than your face.

“N-not, eh, scheiße, I only meant I–” Watching him stutter was similar to what a high schooler would do when he was called out during an assembly. Though, your giggle makes him clear his throat and pause with a stiffening spreading to his legs. His body seems to deflate, taking your reverence for his soft inward nature as making fun or at worse, a blatant rejection. The delicate makeup of his psyche was on display, though you didn’t know. “I’m…I’m sorry, Ma’am–”

“I’d love to see your artwork, König,” you begin, pulling the watercolor pad closer to your body instinctually, cheeks hot. The man perks up, and you can see his heart hammering through his clothes when his eyes blaze with light. “How about I give you my number and I’ll text you a day I’m free and we can work something out? A local café or library sound good?”

“I…yes, that sounds wonderful.”

—

You throw your soaked coat on the hook as you shut the door, hating how the frigid rainwater had wetted your hair, though still holding it as a blessing. At least no one could see the tear tracks as you walked back to your apartment. 

Kicking off heavy boots and peeling the slick layers of fabric from your chest with a sloping sound, you flick on the lights with a shaking finger and a sniffle. Wet footprints are left over the rugs and hardwood as the phantom shuffles over them, beelining to the bathroom to strip. 

Your mind was preoccupied as you slipped out of heavy fabric, the pile already on the floor creating a large puddle that you threw a towel on and left as it was. 

“He…he’d tell me if he didn’t like me anymore, right?” Whispering, the broken words meet air as you toss on a large shirt – the hem meeting your knees as a pair of thick sweatpants follow. 

Quite the look for someone who was having an internal battle. Your friends would say you looked like you were minutes away from grabbing a tub of ice cream and sobbing over a rom-com. The quick-witted part of you confessed that the idea wasn’t even that bad if you threw in a glass of beer. Preferably the shitty kind so you could complain about it and distract yourself.

“Get it together…” You would not cry over a guy that hadn’t even asked you out officially, but with that familiar sting in the back of your eyes, you hissed that König wasn’t just any guy.

You’d really liked him, and for what it was worth, your heart would have exploded if he had asked you out. 

He was kind – respectful. Utterly adorable when he was speaking so passionately about his artwork and his parents who he held on a larger-than-life pedestal. König’s heart was just as big as his body, that gorgeous, bear-like body, and…oh, you’d wished he would like you just as much as you liked him. 

Before you could stop the wave of hopelessness, the tears were already dribbling down your face, and the dark apartment was echoing with the barely-there sobs that hit the walls.

—

When you hadn’t answered him in the next two hours and his calls were going to voicemail, König was hit with a train’s worth of worry. Feet tapping faster than unusual and eyes were finicky as they passed over documents.

Although his contract with KorTac wasn’t exactly like his own had been in the military, the hyper-vigilance was still ingrained bones-deep. The Austrian man held his personal relationships tightly – and if someone wasn’t answering him, the anxiety reserved for large, uncontrollable, crowds reared its ugly head. König wasn’t sure when it had happened, but you had entered that loyal group consisting of his parents and a few work friends in an incredibly small amount of time. 

He really should have bit the bullet and gone out with you today, the man acknowledged as he slipped out of his office and tried once more to get in contact with you. König watched the icon of your smiling face go straight to the familiar voice that in any other circumstance, he would have wanted to listen another moment too.

“...Thanks for calling! I’m not able to speak with you right now, but go ahead and leave a message–”

“Come on, Bӓrchen.” König lightly growls, hanging up and stuffing the infernal device into his cargo pant’s side pocket. 

His usually hidden face was twisted up with worry, so commonly lit with bloodlust on Ops now left in a state of unknown. It was stupid to think like this, but how could he not? In such a small amount of time, you’d made him fall for you like a bird does the sky; that thin line between falling and flying caught underwing. 

That was why he’d been making excuses, you see. 

You were so…good…that he’d been worried about the way he carried himself; second-guessed small actions like a hand on the small of your back in public, or a comment about how nice you looked. 

Did she take that the wrong way?

Why did I tell her that?

I hope she doesn’t think that I’m rude…

You were messing with his mind with every turn, but it wasn’t even all that, either. His size also played a part. Your form was so small as it trailed beside him on walks through the city – it fit in the clutch of his arm easily. 

König was just scared he might break you, he’s never had to be…gentle so often before. It was against everything he’d been taught in the last decade or so.

Pushing open the front door of the KorTac: Private Military Contractor building, the man pushes on with a frown over his scarred lips and a drawn-in expression. He hadn’t even noticed he’d forgotten his surgical mask in his office, along with a jacket, and braved the volatile winds and slapping rain in a slight jog, an athletic shirt tight across his chest. 

By the time he’d reached your apartment building, his hair was dark and stuck to his skin, slight puffs of breath escaping his lips and wracking shivers along his spine. König ascended the stairs in double steps, agile as his heart pounded. 

Being ex-military left him with an undeniable state of readiness.

With heavy knuckles and panting breath, his hand quickly rasps against the door, and after a second of no sound, he does it again. 

“Bӓrchen, it’s me. Are you there?” König’s shoulders are set, ready to batter the door down at the barest hint of something wrong. He calls your name but like a voice on the wind, there’s no answer. Not even a shadow under the barrier, a whiff of your shampoo.

Grunting, strained eyes going grim, the man’s hand encompasses the handle, arm and body going parallel to the wood. His hips tense, feet grinding over the floor as they set. But the nearly missed footsteps that his ears twitched at gives him pause. 

After a few moments of intense listening, his body stone-stiff and eyes spaced out, there’s a clicking of a lock. 

König moves back swiftly, hands going to rest at his sides, and when your face graces his vision, a large weight is lifted. Until he realizes that your eyes are red-rimmed. His lids go startlingly wide, fingers coming up to curl into themselves near his middle, but you speak before he does.

With a hatred for interrupting others, König keeps his lips sealed and watches with a concerned once-over and nervous lungs.

Your hand is clenched over the door frame, the muscle of your tongue licking at your lips as beads of water fall from your locks. 

“What are you doing here, König?” With a voice more hoarse and dry than a desert. The man itches at the side of his hawk nose, hesitant about what he sees. 

You’d never been like this before – always so happy. 

“I…” He trails off quietly, seeing your eyes unwilling to meet his own. “Are you…alright?” 

The Austrian’s fingers jerk when you laugh, and a surprised blink later he’s coming closer to check on you, hand almost outstretched before he sees the size difference and thinks better of it. He just taps on your cheek instead, delicately, like a hit from a flower. 

“Sweet one? Please tell me what is wrong. You weren’t answering your phone.” He wants to beg for you to look at him, plead. “It made me worry for you. Why did you not respond?” 

“So you want me to respond when you’re obviously bailing on me for what,” you pull back, disappearing partially behind the door. König watches with a still body as your arms go to wrap around your waist, dread creeping up his throat. “The third time? Fourth? I guess I’ve lost count.” 

The man’s lips go thin, eyes crinkling as an expression of pure self-hatred takes hold. He had stupidly hoped you wouldn’t notice that. When times got tough for him in the past – whether with the schoolyard bullies or an operation on wrong, avoidance was usually his best tactic; it was one he had fallen back into time and time again without fail. But he’d never told you that. 

And now he looked like a proper Arschloch. 

But you’re not done yet. When you leave the door open and disappear inside the dark apartment, König follows after like a lost puppy, water still dripping from his strong chin and stuck in his stubble. Cursing himself out in his head. 

“Ach, du Depp, jetzt hast du‘s getan. Die eine gute Sache ruiniert, die du hattest, oder...?" He mutters, slipping out of his boots and frantically looking after you as your form goes to the couch. König closes the front door and stays in the foyer, fingers twiddling and mouth opening and closing. 

You hadn’t even looked at him yet, and you’d barely seen him without a mask on. 

The Tv was on, playing some show that he’d never seen and he doubted you were watching. Your body plops to the couch with a shrieking of springs and bouncing of pillows. A small huff escapes your lips, though you speak no more. 

König clears his throat again, a nasty nervous habit along with the fidgeting, as he takes a few steps forward. The finger of his right hand goes to spread through his hair, pushing the strands back like a red wave and unintentionally slicking them to his skull. The clicking of his jaw reverberates in his ears as he resets it, picking at the palate scar under his left nostril. 

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it fitfully and already his face is reddening. König looks away from you for a moment, breathing before shuffling over like a guilty child would on drowned socks. He places one leg on the floor and kneels down in front of you so he can better look into your creased face. 

“Bӓrchen,” he liked calling you that – little bear – because the comparison was enough to make him smile every time it passed his lips. It was such an endearing term that it became difficult to look past the blatant harm he could inflict on you if he wasn’t careful. While his size made him perfect for the field, home life was, well, let's just say he could easily force his way through a crowd. Not that he would, of course. But at any rate, that was what you were to him – a little bear. “I…I have to confess to you that I have been avoiding you, yes? That much has been,” a stiff breath is taken in. “Obvious.” 

Your head turns to the side, knees brushing his own as you hold your hands in your lap. Behind König the show continues to play, spreading a silver light over the living room and the continuous droning of voices.  

Not knowing whether it would be frowned upon or not, and with a steadying breath for confidence, the man loops a cold finger under your chin; bringing you back to him and finally setting your glossy eyes ahead. 

He sees you blink in surprise when you find him maskless, and a faint smile flicks over his lips when your expression goes shy. Cautious like a bird.

“It was of no fault of your own, Sweetling, I ask that you believe me. I’ll try to explain the best I can, Ja? If you’ll let me, though, I know that I don’t deserve it.”

“If you don’t like me anymore, you can just say it…Stop dragging me on, please.” His heart stops, mouth still partially open before a sharp breath is sucked in. “I don’t know if I can take that anymore.” The pang in his chest hurts immensely, like taking an arrow and peeling back skin. You look at him so hopelessly, broken beyond belief as though a piece of you was being ripped out.

“W-why do you say that?” König tries to desperately stop the wetness of your tears from falling, shaking his head and cupping both of your cheeks, rubbing at the flesh in agony. “No, no, no, Dear One. That’s not what it is at all, I beg of you to listen.” In the fever, he switches between his native tongue and English, fingers shaking though not from the drenched clothes. “Meine Schöne, oh, meine Schöne. Bitte hör auf zu weinen.“

He takes quick breaths and finds in himself that he would do anything to stop you from crying – take a bullet, run a marathon, or learn to fly. Name it, any of it. Anything to wipe away the sadness that lives in your expression as if it even belonged there in the first place

“Do not cry over me, please, I-I,” König’s tongue trips over itself, but he persists, a similar burn in the back of his nose. “I…You scare me, Bӓrchen,” that gets your attention, creased eyes and a loose jaw going to give him full observation. 

What?! Your expression screams.

Face on fire, the Austrian continues with intense eyes, dark obsidian awash with pure light that reflects stars. Overflowing with anxious tears that he refuses to let fall. 

He can’t lose you. No, no, not you. You were the best thing to happen to him in a long time. Damn him – damn his own consciousness that’s more of a betrayer than Brutus. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go… 

“...What?” Your voice wavers, nose twitching so adorably that the man is momentarily stunned. 

“I am afraid of you, my Dear. Utterly and wholly.” König sucks down a breath, now the one unable to continue the stare-off. His foot shifts. “I am afraid of what you do to me. Your smile, Gott, your smile. A-and the way you speak, how you react so honestly to my paintings like you care with all of your heart.” He laughs wetly when you smile dimly, continuing as he caresses your skin. “Everything down to your very bones is like…like…” König’s words fumble, because comparing you to something earthly was impossible to him. 

“Ever since I met you in that art store, I cannot string together words with any semblance of meaning when I am around you. Bӓrchen, you have entrapped my mind, and I am afraid.”

He watches you breathe in slowly, tears no longer falling, though the evidence still haunts him. The man’s chest lets go of a tightly wound knot, the anvil on the other side just narrowly missing his heart as the sweat on his brow evaporates.

“A-and,” König sighs, shaking his head and moving his hands to tightly hold your own in your lap. How could he explain the last part of this dilemma? He bluntly states, “you’re small.”

A brief moment of silence bleeds like a wound, long and slow, until a tiny snort echoes. Full-blown laughter emanates not even a second later, and he watches your body heave forward and slot itself with your nose in his shoulder. König’s blush stains all the way down his neck, but minuscule giggles also fall from him in retaliation to yours. His great arms wrap themselves around your waist, dragging you slightly closer as he breathes deeply. 

Your scent pulls him under like a ship at the water, riding great waves with sea beasts under the waves guiding the vessel along its course. 

“Everyone’s small compared to you.” Your mumbling in his shoulder makes his grip tighten, side-eyeing your visage as his head tilts down. “Not my fault you got every gene that made you sprout like a damn tree.”

With your lips caressing his neck, he blinks softly down at you, amused, as his breath mingles with your hair. He lets you speak, getting it all off your chest and feeling stupid for how he had been avoiding this.

“You’re afraid because you’re so big, then? That you might hurt me?” 

“Ja.” Your hands circle around his shoulders, and with a sigh that leaves the man short of breath, you shimmy back and face him, fingers playing with the base of his neck; pulling at tiny hairs. 

“Don’t you think being worried about that means something? And, c’mon,” you smile lightly to him, and he watches closely, fingers moving along your spine. “With how conscious you are of your body, it’s hard to imagine anything ever happening.”

Hands grasp his neck, and with a bobbing Adam’s apple, König yields to your pull, angling his head to you as your back straightens. Watching with awe; your silhouette bathed in silver light and eyes fatigued, though never more beautiful. You’re beaming.

“I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you, okay? So stop worrying about it, you big dope – and stop ditching me!” The Austrian’s dark eyes are fastly moved from one spot on your face to another, cataloging every bump and pore to memory. 

He’d never been this close to you before, though he’d fantasized about it. And what you were telling him…it’s like his body deflates with relief, and a genuine, boyish, smile blossoms. 

“Safe? W-with me, Bӓrchen? Oh-oh, my…” A kiss suddenly hits his forehead, and if you continued doing things like this, he was sure he’d explode. His body was vibrating with pure bashfulness; it was so odd to be complimented and doted on by someone that wasn’t his close family. For someone to reassure him of his flawed concerns. 

She feels safe with me. 

How could he tell you how happy that made him to hear aloud?

“Hey,” hands cup his jaw, and his spaced-out eyes snap back to you instantly, blinking away the rose-colored fog. You shake his head back and forth until he’s chuckling, like a kid again, and his grip catches your wrists to make you stop. Your breath fans over his blazing cheeks like a wind sent from Zephyrus himself, and the sticking clothes to his body matter little. “No more leaving me hanging, okay? I miss you, König. I want to be around you.” 

The eyes that travel down his scarred and freckled face leave him slightly self-conscious, but as if sensing this, your lips curve. Before he could utter a grunt of surprise, your kiss had connected with the scar on his forehead, as well as the palate. Just brushing the top of his lips as his large nose poked your cheek. 

“Mein Gott.” König gasps, eyes fluttering shut when you pull back and a grin slashes your face. A whisper meets the room.

“Thank you for showing me your handsome face, mein Schöner, I’ve been wondering what you looked like.” Shyly scanning his features, the redhead lets your fingers trace his flesh, shivers left in their wake, and a soft sigh. 

If he opens his eyes, he’s afraid he’d start crying. So he lets you touch his scarlet flesh, nearly the same shade as his hair, though the auburn is more deep-set. Shivering every time you lay another press of your lips to a blemish; more addictive than drugs. 

“You’re going to kill me,” König pleads, “but if this is punishment for causing you pain, I will gladly bear it.”

“Sly.” You smirk, pressing one more peck to his nose, and pulling back. He grumbles in his throat before his eyes peel open slowly; pupils blown wide and mouth parted. “Are you alive down there?”

“Barely. Perhaps I’ll need another kiss to tell, yes?” 

“You’re horrible.” Looking at his clothes, your eyes suddenly go grim. Like you’d just noticed the state of him now that he was kneeling in front of you and struck by your beauty. “And shivering.” You huff. “Why didn’t you start by saying you were soaked to the bone, König?” 

He looks to the ground, and you try to shuffle past and grab him a towel, but his arms trap you. You find yourself in a chest faster than you can blink, hands splayed over a pec that jerks as you’re lifted up. 

König hears you squeak and laughs, throwing you up into a bridal-style hold easily. Laughing chest-deep, you curl under his chin and quickly comment, “what are you doing?!” 

“Hush, Bӓrchen,” the man squishes you closer, “I’ll find a towel, don’t strain yourself.” 

You direct him to the bathroom after he sets you on your bed, hearing the pounding of rain outside as he sneaks off. 

The room smells of your shampoo, and König takes a pastel towel from the wrack after half-closing the door, slapping it to his head and violently rubbing it back and forth. Lost in his elevated thoughts and happy demeanor, the knock on the wood is almost missed. He’s just about to take off his shirt and wring it out when he blinks at the sound. 

“König – I’ve got some spare clothes, but I doubt they’ll fit you well enough.” An amused twitch of his lips later, he’s opening the door to your soft face, staring down at it. Standing shyly, your eyes crease; head tilting. “Sleepover?”

The man looks at the pile of fabric and nods kindly, a lofty feeling in his bones.

“Yes, please. They’re perfect, vielen Dank.” It isn’t long before he’s coming back out, a shirt that barely fits over his wide chest and a pair of sweats clinging to his hips. But he didn’t mind. 

They smelled like you, and thus, he smelled like you. König quickly found out that drawing wasn’t the only thing that could calm him. 

An embarrassed smile and a sheen of giddiness never leave his face.

He slides into bed with you, and you quickly latch under his arm, limbs tangling with his own as his fingers twitch over the width of the base of your shoulder blades. An easy expulsion of air leaves him as your weight settles, back curving to the make of the mattress. 

The words leave him in the delicate silence; water hitting the window and during the exploration of souls. Cheeks hot and heart hammering. 

“Sei mein?” Be mine? 

He feels your grin, nose nuzzling his flesh like it was the perfect pillow, and his heart speeds like a shooting star.

“Mein Herz war immer deins. Ja.” My heart was always yours. Yes. 

He stays awake for a long while, listening to your breathing and staring at the ceiling, running knuckles over your spine and staying silent. 

Smiling.  

[sweetyluvs]

27 with doctor! abby au please 🙏!!

𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞

abby anderson x fem! reader - drabble

sorry this literally took me a millennium.. i kept getting it wrong and having to rewrite 😭 .

anon left a second note, it read: “same anon who requested 27 with doctor abby! i forgot to add i want angst with fluff at the end if possible. thanks:)”

tags - angsty 🥀, mentions of light loneliness, relationship problems.. fluff at the end!!!

Abby having late night shifts was nothing knew.

She was a surgeon, staying late was apart of her job. but sometimes you wished it wasn’t.

she always came back extremely exhausted, only having the strength to mutter a few ‘thank you’s’ when she eats the food you made her before she goes to sleep. resting all night and getting up at the crack of dawn. You barely see her, and when you do, it’s not for long.

you do miss her, you miss really being around her and having her eyes and attention and love on you, but with her job… it wasn’t that simple. you had your own job, yeah, you were the owner of a small bakery downtown. but you ran that business, you had employees and assistant managers to cover for when you couldn’t make it, and abby didn’t.

you sigh deeply, shutting your eyes upon the refreshing feeling of the cold air flushing out your lungs. Abby was most likely working another late shift at the Hospital. No surprise, you loved her, and her job, but she’d said she would be back by 6:30 to have the promised dinner you were thrilled to make. you’d been going on about it for weeks, asking when she would swear to be free, and she had pinky swore that this wednesday— today— would be perfect.

but, here you sat. alone at the table, your plate empty as the one across from you was full, the once warm food now cold. You weren’t angry, no, you understood. Obviously, she’d come back if she could, obviously she’d stay with you if she could. but she couldn’t. being a doctor was hard, and you understood.

You stood up, taking your plate and utensils with you to the sink. overlooking all the dishes you’d dirtied to try and perfect this dish for her. You rinsed your dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, going to gather the other ones and wash them, putting the plates, bowls, spoons and such in the washer. Your thoughts went back to the day you’d told her. she walked through the door at her usual retuning time, smiling at you when you ran up to her for a hug. You’d asked her the usuals; ‘how was your day?’ ‘anything exciting happen?’ ‘was dina as smart as she usually is?’ ‘were jesse and ellie as weird as usual?’ she’d laughed at your dumb questions, answering them as she took off her shoes and placed down her bag, walking with you to the kitchen. then, you be brought it up.

“abs, i found this super cool, almost gourmet ��recipe, and i thought i could make it for us to have for dinner on a night that works for you.” you offered, watching as she practically inhaled the spaghetti and meatballs you’d made for dinner. She chewed for a moment, smiling at your words. she swallowed, looking at you. “that sounds great, baby. what is it?”

“can’t tell ya! have to kill ya.” you teased, leaning on the counter and grinning at her eye roll. “okay, whatver.”

“what day works for you? i want you to actually have it free so you don’t miss the freshness of the food.” you inquired, watching as she squinted her eyes in thought. “next wednesday. some construction is going on at the hospital and me and a few others are being let of early.. around 6:30, so that’s perfect.” she replied, twisting her spoon to gather some noodles. you beamed, leaned closer “you pinky swear?.”

“i pinky swear.”

you bit your bottom lip, gnawing at the now raw flesh at the reminiscence of the memory. You always tried to be open, not upset— but you were hurt. You hadn’t actually, really had dinner with her for months.

it wasn’t her fault. you’d told yourself, knowing it wasn’t. You didn’t want to take her work schedule to heart.. but something inside you cracked every time she broke a promise. You huffed angrily, brows furrowing harshly as you aggressively scrubbed the pan you’d used. the dish had took you most of the day, calling ahead to your employees yesterday to let them know you wouldn’t be there, you spent seven hours perfecting this recipe.

even the name of the dish took you time to read. ‘Prosciutto-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin with Crispy Sage, a side of Salade Niçoise (from france) and a side dish of duchess potatoes.’

you knew abby would fall to her knees from joy upon hearing those food titles. she’d love to have it with you, and that’s why you made it. so she’d love it. but she’s not here to have it with you like she said.

before you knew it, the kitchen was clean. stepping to the dinner table, you scooped up her plate of food and nicely wrapped it in plastic wrap. taking a piece of paper from the notepad on the fridge and writing her a small note. You weren’t trying to be rude, in fact, you tried everything in you to he as kind as possible— but after being bailed on four times in the past three months, you were at the edge of a line. you put the paper on the plate, leaving it on the counter for her alongside some water before storming off to your shared bedroom— barely, shared bedroom. you made it, cleaned it, kept it tidy, rearranged it, etcetera.

tearing off your nice shirt, you tossed it to the floor. usually, you’d wear one of abby’s shirts during her night shifts, the lingering smell bringing you comfort— but now, the thought of her made you internally irk.

you took a shirt from your drawer , tossing it over your head and shoulders, sliding it on. You didn’t same with your pants, taking off the nice linen fabric and fuming as you put on crappy old shorts.

You basically threw yourself into bed, putting a pillow between your side, and abbys side of the bed. hoping she’d get the message. i mean, it’s not like she’ll have the time to talk to you about it tomorrow anyways, right?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

abby sigh as the door to your shared apartment opened, her hand pulling out the key she’d used to unlock it. you don’t usually lock the door.

She knew she’d fucked up.

you’d been so excited for this, chatting about it and reminding her to not be late. and she was late. four hours late.

Abbys dropped her bag by the door as she usually does, sliding off her work shoes and sliding on her slippers before walking to the kitchen.

the lights were out, it was cleaned nicely. her eyes met a plate on the white marble counter, a lazily folded piece of paper on top.

She smiled lightly, knowing you’d be the kind to leave her a note. she reached for it, unfolding it.

“Hope the construction workers weren’t in your way. Enjoy.” abby’s smile fell, guilt flooded her every atom at the words. fuck.

she knew you’d be upset, she doesn’t know what she was expecting— she’d bailed on you four times, and she swore to be on time this one. but, she wasn’t.

Abby was getting ready to head out at 6:25 to be able to make it home early, the biggest grin tugged at her lips as she told all her co-workers about the meal you were preparing.

she was about to leave when an emergency was called in. It was bad, but she’d seen worse. this poor girls bone was completely shattered, a bad case of compartment syndrome. unluckily, her and mel were the only two true professionals still clocked in, leading to a four and a half hour long surgery.

by the time abby got out of the hospital, she basically ran to her car and sped home— praying that by some miracle you were still awake and waiting for her.

you weren’t.

She put the note down, eyes landing on the plate of food you’d left her.

it was beautiful.

the potatoes shaped perfectly, the prosciutto-wrapped tenderloin looked amazing; cooked to perfection, the salad beside it was also stunning.

Each course of the meal was placed individually and carefully on her plate. Abby’s stomach fell with guilt upon imagining you sitting alone, eating your meal without her.

Abby was mad at herself. not because of this single instance, but because she feels as if she’s choosing her career over you— and she would never, ever do such a thing.

Her life revolves around you, so much.. she’d been planning a little something with a ring.

but for some terrifying reason, she felt that you would refuse. why would you marry someone who you’d never be around? nausea ate at her stomach due to the thought, hoping it was only her crazy nighttime, overworked imagination.

Abby unwrapped the food, putting it in the microwave for a minute. You weren’t anywhere in sight, and so she assumed you’d gone to sleep. alone. again.

“fuck..” she murmured, regret running through her veins. She leaned on the counter, her muscular figure easily keeping her upright.

you were the love of her life— her light in the darkness, her jam to her bread, her peanut butter to her jelly— without you, she doesn’t know where she’d be, and thanks to her stupid work schedule, she’s beginning to think that’s starting to happen.

the timer went off, a loud beep ripping her from her thoughts. “oh shit— shh, shh— loud ass microwave.” she complained, taking out the food. The potatoes were now soft, the salad unfortunately warm do to being in the heat, but the rest of the meal was good temperature. Abby got a fork, quickly snagging a bite of the tenderloin. It was even better than you swore it would be. The juice of the meat flooded her mouth like the sea to the shore, accompanied with the small amount of potatoes that gathered on her fork; they were magnificent.

Abby had inhaled the meal, it being gone in a matter of inhuman minutes. She rinsed her dish, going to load it in the dishwasher— but seeing that you had ran it. she frown. you always made sure to never do that, claiming you ‘wanted to get the love she deserves, and love is definitely not having to do your own dish.’

she cleaned her dishes and walked across the house and down the hall to your shared bedroom, pushing the door open she saw you. laying on your side, hair lightly messy as it always was when you slept (she loved it.) and.. a pillow between your side and her side. she wondered what else she’d missed that you’d done.

Abby striped her pants, throwing on some sweats and a hoodie, sliding in bed beside you. She gripped the pillow and threw it so hard she was surprised it didn’t pop, and wrapped her ams around your wait.

you shuffled, grabbing her hand before it could do a full 360 and ripped it off you, harshly turning your back to her.

“babe,” she whispered softly, sadness coating her vocals.

you were reluctant, eyes snapped shut even though she knows your awake.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i really tried to be here, something unexpected came up, i swear i would have had been here.”

your silence had her itching at her skin.

“please say something.” she pleaded, her frown only deepening.

“whatever you say, abigail.”

abby grabbed the top of her head, ‘fuck’ running in her mind a thousand miles per hour. she really was in deep shit.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i don’t even think sorry can describe how sorry i am— i just, i wanted do come back, i couldn’t though. i couldn’t just leave the hospital, they needed me.” you clenched your jaw. her points were decent, great even— but you were petty.

“i’m sure they did.”

your little-word replies had abby at edge of her seat, suspense and fear building up.

“that’s all? nothing else?” she poked, confusion flooding her, anger starting to appear as well.

“yeah.”

she scoffed, sitting against the headboard. “You don’t have anything else to say? at all? i came back, yeah, i was late and i’m sorry, but—

“late?” you bit back, interrupting her. “you’ve bailed on me four times for dinner. You’ve always put your job before me, you’ve always had more time for your career— is this even working?”

those words were the ones abby feared the most. When you two began dating, she had told you about her passion, and where she worked. you found it fascinating, understanding completely. but, that was also when she used to spend genuine time with you.

“ i love you abby, i really do— but i can’t be with someone who puts a career before a person. I support your passions, and i wish nothing but the best for you, but I don’t want to be stood up by the person i’m dating anymore. fuck, abby, i took work off today to spend seven fucking hours making a meal you couldn’t even text me to say you couldn’t even show up for!” before you knew it, you’d sat up and looked at her, voice raising in a way she’d never heard.

“i know its not your choice, but you could at least find five fucking seconds to reply to my text.”

guild flooded her like a tsunami once again, a frown growing at the look on your face.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered out, watching as you sigh deeply.

“Don’t apologize, abby. it’s past that.” your reply scared her, fearing the worst; a break up. were you going to break up with her? were you going to leave her behind? she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out.

“how can i make it up to you?”

“i don’t even know if you can do that anymore.” you turned away, laying on your side, the pillow you’d somehow slipped between you both felt like a rock wall, each side of the bed you slept on cold; missing one another’s warmth.

abby stayed silent, internally scolding herself for being such a bad girlfriend and, frankly, not trying harder to be better.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you woke up with a sore neck, probably from sleeping in a way you never do.

you didn’t need to look over to abby’s side of the bed to know she was gone. sitting up, you crack your once resting bones and stand up. Shuffling on your slippers, you walk to your bedroom door, twisting the cold handle and walking out.

Every morning you wake up after abby, she always kisses you goodbye before she leaves (or so she claims to.), grabs a quick bite to eat from the fridge and you are left to make breakfast for yourself. it was second nature, to wake up and immediately crack and egg or two.

but, something was off. It smelled almost.. good in the house. you ignored it, labeling it as your desperate imagination.

Your feet hobbled across the house, yawning deeply and shutting the bathroom door. looking in the mirror, you grimace. the eye bags on your face were not your strong suite, you noted.

quickly rinsing off your sleep, you brush your teeth along with your hair. each and every yawning that stole itself from your lips reminded you how much you needed your coffee. rubbing your eyes you opened the bathroom door and began your journey to the kitchen.

when you round the familiar corner, what you hadn’t expected was to see Abby in the room.

your eyes flew wide, her blonde hair was still down from sleeping, she had her glasses on and was hovering over the stove.

brows furrowing, you stepped forward. “aren’t you supposed to be at work? isn’t thursday one of the most important ones?” you genuinely ask, catching her off guard attention, her head snapping up.

the big, sweet smile that encased her beautiful lips made you feel bad for your harshness the previous night. She pushed her arms off the counter, fixing something by the stove quickly before walking over to the bar, pulling out the two chairs and revealing two sets of plates.

“Yeah— but it’s not as important as you.” Abby affirmed, a light pink coating her cheeks. You wanted to stay angry, to stay mad at her lies and broken promises. But, your ice heart thawed quickly, revealing the warmth you still posses for her.

“abby.. you didn’t have to. I know i was harsh last night but— it’s your passion, i didn’t.. actually expect you to not go.” you confessed, walking to her cautiously, as if she’d vanish from existence.

she gave you a small smile, “I know. but, i would rather be with you. I love you way more than any hobby.” Her words were the validation you’ve been craving all these months, the words you’ve been seeking to hear. You instantly complied.

“i’m glad to hear that.” you laughed, approaching her and gingerly placing a kiss to her cheek as you sat at your chair she pointed to.

“always.”

she rushed back to the stove, flipping over whatever had been on their previously before motioning for you to give her your plate. you obliged, handing it to her.

“I love you, baby. I always will and.. even though i’m not a baker, i tried to make you those pancakes you like so much.” oh did her words make you fall for her all over again. “you didn’t have to, abs.” you grinned, ear to ear. something abby hadn’t seen you do since.. since a while.

“i did. i hope you like them.” she placed the plate in front of you, beautiful, fluffy pancakes alongside fresh bacon and eggs with syrup drizzled over them placed nicely on the dish.

“wow! abby, you might want to reconsider your career and come work for me.” you joked, smiling wildly at the wholehearted laugh she let out.

“who knows, maybe i will.”

you rolled your eyes, cutting a piece of the pancake and dipping it in the puddled syrup.

your eyes widened, “mhm!” you expressed, eyes shutting in satisfaction.

although abby was a very high ranked doctor, she was still nervous to get her professional baker girlfriends opinion on first time pancakes.

“Abigail, you are a natural.”

“only for you, babe.”

she put food on her own plate, turning off the stove and coming to sit beside you.

“I’m going to call my supervisor and ask for some more free hours from now on. So i can start to have breakfast and dinner with you. and maybe a couple free days, too.” abby announced, causing your heart to beat happily.

“that makes me so unbelievably happy, abby. you deserve it.”

you kissed her cheek, syrup sticking from your lips to her skin. you laughed, and she did too.

“I love you. more than anything.” you said, chewing softly. she wiped some food from your face, a loving smile tracing her features.

“i love you more.”

[the-pixelated-pirate]

Request for Anon!

Hellooo lovely people! Sorry to keep you waiting, literally all year, but I'm back! I had a lot of fun with these because I've been in such a big Maji' mood <3 hope y'all enjoy!

Romantic Majima HCs ♡

WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW under the cut, gender neutral reader w AFAB anatomy, Y1+ Maji' in mind but some hcs can still work for Y0 :3

REQUEST STATUS: Open!

REQUESTS LEFT: 3!

SFW

• Loves claw games, will win everything in the machine for you if you ask. On second thought, Majima would do ANYTHING for you if you asked

• Doesn't matter how long you've been together, Majima will always be flirting with you. He'll always finding something about you to compliment and makes extra sure that you know you're loved by him <3

• Plans the most sporadic dates. Always jumping the question when you least expect it. He found this neat looking sushi place a couple blocks from your place, what about dinner at 8? Tonight? Of course, tonight! He saw some kids eating some ice cream just now and it sounded perfect! You're not busy, right? Let's go!

• If you've got a job with the public, you know he's skipping out on his duties to come visit you. You work in retail, he's holding up the line to flirt and swoon over you. Your boss hates him

• He can't let anyone know that he's the biggest sap over his s/o. You've got him wrapped around your finger, Majima isn't sure if he enjoys it or not.

• Favorite moments are early in the morning, when you both first wake up. It's so domestic. Loves getting to cook breakfast with you, holding you close from behind and smooching you up <3 his kisses taste like coffee

• Plays into the "Mad Dog" nickname a lot, calling himself your "guard dog" and being positively feral and the slightest bit protective over you.

• Loves to bite. Anywhere. He'll leave marks, and end up maybe getting punished because he left a big ass hickey where clothes don't cover it

• Loves loves LOVES to cuddle. His favorite place to rest his head is your chest. Or your thighs, he ain't picky. He could cuddle you all day if you'd let him, especially after a bad day at work. Your fingers in his hair is an absolute dream

• Sings in the shower

• Has a notebook of important dates that he always keeps on him, so he doesn't forget them! Some dates include your birthday, and your anniversary of course!

• Turns into a big baby when allergies kick in. Now he's got you around, he begs you to take care of him. Let him bundle up in your bed, feed him some warm soup, massage his jaw when it starts to ache, won't you? You just love him so much, right~?

NSFW

• Okayyyyy.... Maybe it's a little indulgent... But he'd be so down to try pet play. Probably prefers calling you his little kitty/puppy, but it feels pretty damn good the other way around, too

• As much as it hurts to say. Look at him. I don't remember seeing a spec of hair on him, minus the facial hair. That mf waxes. Brazilian. And if I am misremembering... It just feels in character, ok

• Loves to see you dress up. Loves to see anyone in a suit or dress, if it's a special occasion he will find some place to drag you to so he can show you one hell of a time. Oh, the risk of getting caught? Just adds to the thrill, doesn't it?

• Switchhhh. Through and through. Can be a big bully, or he can be a big ole masochist. Loves pleasing, loves being pleased. Majima in the bedroom is very 50/50, everyone is happy

• Fav place to cum is. Anywhere on you. Ass, stomach, face. Will he clean it up... Probably. If you tell him to.

• LISTEN.... He's down for some freaky stuff... If you tell him to lick it up, he just might. He's always been pretty unpredictable, hasn't he?

• Loves rough sex. Nothing better. However he does have his softer spells. Will go easy on you if you ask. But you better beg, he loves listening to that sweet, sweet voice of yours

• All of my faves have voice kinks. Because I said so. Solidarity k 🤝

• Like mentioned he can get pretty cuddly afterwards, but he can still take care of you if you're wiped out. Just get ready for some hugs and a whole lot of smooching

• Okay. Crossdressing. Are you surprised. Making him wear dresses, making you wear something you normally don't.. just something about it

• ALSO. ROLE 👏 PLAY 👏 HE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND FUCK YOU HARD AS THE HANNYA MAN. AS A POLICE OFFICER. GOROMI... WHOEVER. OK

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Beefy!Reader

Requested by 🐺 anon: Can I request something that's downright filthy and fluffy?

Gp!beefy!reader x Nat fucking missionary hard but so passionate and loving and Nat accidentally slips out an I love you in the middle. We say it back then it becomes love making. Maybe if you can add some Nat titty fucking for a challenge 🤪 😉 please and thankyou 💕

- 🐺

18+ only, read at your own risk

AN: Challenge accepted, my friend. No pronouns used.

"Fuck, Nat. Oh fuck."

You're ready to split the headboard in half with your hands as you hold onto it for your life, thrusting your hips forward so your cock slides through Natasha's breasts, already shiny with the amounts of pre-cum you're leaking everywhere.

You don't think you've ever been so hard in your life, the veins on your cock pounding and the tip spilling more pre-cum as it taps Natasha's chin with every thrust.

"Open your mouth," you demand, and she tilts her head down and obeys, looking up at you innocently as your cockhead moves past her lips and seals around your tip, sucking just enough for you to almost lose all control that second.

You have no words to describe your euphoria anymore as you pump yourself between Natasha's tits and into her mouth. Natasha doesn't mind that you're so focused on your own pleasure, but the ache in her center is unbearable at being unfilled so she grabs your wrists, moving them from the headboard and directing them to holding her breasts together so she can use her own hand to dive between her legs and play with herself.

You start to lose your rhythm the closer you get to your release and you clench all your muscles to hold back.

"Your tits are so perfect, Nat,” you pant, pushing them together to create an even tighter squeeze around your cock. “And I’m gonna cum all over them.”

Finally, the pressure at the base of your cock is too much to hold back anymore and your load shoots in hot, white spurts, catching Natasha on the chin and chest. The sight of her covered in your cum has your cock standing at attention almost right away, but your thighs are still trembling so you lower your body carefully on top of Natasha’s, flattening her against the bed. You feel her arm working between your bodies and you swat away her hand to replace her fingers with your own, pumping them into her core until her head is pushed back into the pillows and she’s screaming your name. 

“I want you inside of me,” Natasha says when she comes down from her high. She wraps her legs around your waist, digging her heels into your back to bring you forward until your hard cock bumps her center. “Please, baby?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. You line yourself up, and the combined lubrication makes it easy for you to push past her entrance, her warm walls hugging your cock perfectly. Natasha clings to your back, her nails tearing across your muscles as she takes your rough and uneven thrusts.

You grunt into her ear, telling her how good she feels around you, and Natasha has never felt so appreciated before in her life. She almost wants to cry, but buries her face into your neck, holding onto you as tight as she can and never wanting to let go.

“I love you.”

You stop mid-thrust, not sure you heard her correctly or if you’d just imagined it. Natasha looks up at you, either shocked that she said it herself or because you’ve stopped fucking her.

“Did you...” you start.

“I’m...I’m sorry.” Natasha’s face reddens more than her hair. She tries squirming out from under you, but you’re much stronger than her so you pin her down easily.

“Did you mean that?” you ask, looking into her eyes.

Natasha says nothing.

You lean down to kiss her softly and Natasha practically melts beneath you and you roll your hips again, with much more gentleness than you ever have before. It was like a switch had been flipped; this was no longer a senseless fuck session between you two. Natasha said she loved you, something you had never had the courage to say first, but you wanted to show her you did too with every fiber of your being. 

Although your cock still throbs, it’s simmered down to a pleasurable, but not overwhelming, burn in your stomach. Natasha grabs onto your butt, squeezing your muscular flesh there and guiding the angle of your hips. You tangle your hands in her hair, directing her head up so you can kiss her in between the gasps and whines that escape her mouth. 

“Fuck,” you grunt when her silky walls ripple around your shaft. “I love you too, Nat,” you finally say, and that seems to do it for the both of you. Natasha arches her back as she cums, pressing her chest against yours, and your entire body tightens, your muscles flexing and straining as you empty your load into her. 

You pull out and lie next to Natasha, neither of you saying a word. She scoots closer to you, eventually crawling to lay on top of you, and you wrap your strong arms around her and hold her securely as you both drift off to sleep.  

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

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[shomixremix]

Hiii! >~< could you make march 8th head canons (what genshin men do on womens day as ur bf!) fluff! sorry English isn’t my first language but I looove your work! This is my first request I’m so nervous ^_^ !! 🌸🌸🌸

If you have time to do this could you add Kaveh, Xiao , Wanderer and Diluc? Thank you in advance <333

International women's day with them ♡︎

hii anon!! don't be nervous, you can always request anything, lovely ♡︎ thank you sm for your request!!

and english isn't my first language too hehe

also i'm so sorry if this doesn't sound like him, i'm not really used to writing for wanderer😭😭

tags: kaveh, xiao, wanderer, diluc, female!reader, fluff, implied smut (yet nothing described), kissing, international women's day, feministic themes

-> of course, your boyfriend should treat you like a goddess everyday, yet there's that one special day every march where he shows his favorite woman a special kind of treatment.

reqs open ♡︎

-> kaveh

"hi, my love!" your blonde lover chirped as you blinked your eyes open. where were you? what's happening?

"mh.. kaveh?" you ask sleepily, rubbing your eyes while you yawn, still half asleep. you can't even think before a bouquet of sumeru roses is shoved in your face.

"happy 8th of march, baby! flowers for my beautiful flower~" he teased cheesily, and you softly laugh. your arms drape around his neck, bringing him closer.

"you're so corny," you chuckle again, eyelids half-open, "but thank you"

"heh, you still love me" he smiles wide, pressing a warm peck on the tip of your nose. "c'mon now, get up, baby. we're going out today"

your eyes flutter wide open, your mouth a little agape. "out? but, don't you have work? you've spent all week complaining about that client.."

"i can take a day off" he mumbles, kissing you again. "it's been so long since I last took you on a date, anyway. now's the perfect time, hm? so come on, get up! we got a whole day's worth of dates!"

he pulls the covers of your shared bed impatiently, trying to get you to get up as fast as possible. the architect grabs your legs, dragging you out from the soft bed.

"noo, kaveh..", you try to protest, "what kinda guy are you if you don't wanna let me sleep on women's day?!"

"the kinda guy who loves his girlfriend and wants to spend time with her! now, c'mon!"

-> xiao

as an adeptus, xiao has lived long and has seen many things change over the years. one of those things are different holidays and celebrations amongs the mortals.

do not get him wrong - he absolutely agrees that all different genders should have equal rights, why wouldn't they? he's a big supporter, he even participated in marches and fights himself! he just didn't get the whole deal with flowers and chocolates.

weren't those kinds of things reserved for another confusing mortal ritual, called "valentine's day" or something?

however, all that changed once he started dating you. suddenly, he realized that kind of attention was important to you and he wanted to give it to you. he wanted you to feel loved and wanted and seen, no matter how much he didn't understand human customs.

"xiao?" you ask a little stunned as the adeptus appears before you with a Qingxin flower in his hand. "what's.. what's going on?"

"for you", he simply regards, giving you the beautiful flower, "i wish you a very joyous women's freedom day"

"aww, xiao, thank you, you shouldn't have!" you press a soft kiss on his cheek, and you could practically feel him blush.

"i simply wanted to express my gratitude and sympathy for you" he slowly continues, clearing his throat.

"this day is a celebration of the female gender, is it not? it's only right i celebrate the most important important woman in my life"

you simply melt at his words, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. he was the most important man in your life, too.

-> wanderer

"here" he muttered, hiding his face away from you as he shoved some hand-picked flowers in your face.

"what's.. this? are you okay, hon?"

he blushed furiously as the petname rolls of your tounge, getting more and more embaressed by the second. he so badly wanted to yell at you not to call him that, yet he swallowed his words for the ocassion.

"i'm fine" he coldly said, his gaze still away from you.

"and those are flowers. flowers, for you."

"for me?" you repeat back in shock, unsure how to react to your boyfriend's sudden display of affection. he never before did something like this, so your confusion was more than understandable.

"for women's day" his usually cold voice had a slightly embaressed tone in it, which cought you off guard. "and you are a woman, so it was only logical. if you don't want them-"

"no, no!" you protest immediately, taking the flowers from his hand eagerly.

"i love them! they are so beautiful! thank you.."

you softly kiss his cheek, making him blush. he says nothing, yet he silently tangles his fingers with yours, holding your hand as the two of you stroll away.

-> diluc

"diluc? love, aren't you going to angel's share? what are you still doing home?"

you softly ask your fiancé as you decend down the stairs of the dawn winery. you're still in your nightgown, hair a little dishvelled, eyes still a little puffy. he smiles at the image of his beautiful future wife, in disbelief that he was the one to put that shiny ring on your finger.

"no, not today, my dear. i took today off to spend time with you. it is a special ocassion, after all"

"oh? a special ocasion? what are we celebrating?"

he smiles softly, looking at you with pure adoration: "it's women's day, darling. it's only right to spend my day with a woman important to me. and who could be more important than my future wife?"

your eyes lit up in excitement as you make your way down, taking his hand he held out for you. "really? we get the whole day for ourselves?"

"mhm", he hummed in agreement, grabbing you closer.

"well, i have presents first, but yeah. i thought we could go for a walk along the starfell lake... if you're not up for that, you know i don't mind staying home all day"

"presents? you really shouldn't have, diluc.." you softly chuckle in awe as you look around the large living room, noticing the many flowers and a few boxes of what looks like jewelery and sweets.

"what can i say? i love spoiling my future wife"

[zevrra]

Hello! I was hoping to request something for Gaara with his wife reader? Like them making up from their first real argument and it gets NSFW?

needy—

tags: suggestive content, 18(+), slight nsfw, naruto, gaara x fem!reader, short & sweet, anon request

creator notes: sorry this is for one, so short! and for two, sorry it took me a little while to respond/finish! i started writing it and was several paragraphs in before i realized i was writing something else completely unrelated to your request so i had to start over aaaaa!!!! so so sorry about that but i hope you enjoy! thanks for requesting!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out he had been avoiding you. Anytime you’d reach for his hand, he’d pull away just far enough so you didn’t touch him. And when he did let you touch him, during any moment of intimacy, he broke all of it off after mere moments. Claiming he was tired and needed to go to bed early for some meeting in the morning.

You had been married to Gaara for a year or so now so it wasn’t as if you two were teenagers sneaking around anymore. It was frustrating but mostly strange to you. His actions made you second guess yourself. What if he was rethinking your relationship? What if he was falling out of love for you? So many emotions and thoughts ran through your head on the daily but today you were getting answers. Even if it was going to be a hard pill to swallow you had to know what was being done wrong.

And as soon as he got home from his work that day, you confronted him.

“Welcome home. We need to talk,” You say, trying your best to put on a brave face and voice.

Gaara looks at you with his usual gentle face. He’s hesitant for a moment, as if he knows what is coming, before he settles into a chair at the kitchen table.

“What’s been going on recently?” You ask. His eyes avoid you. Shame written on his face.

“It’s nothing,” Gaara whispers. His colder tone makes your gut twist.

“Nothing?” You scoff. “I think avoiding me for as many days as you have been isn’t ‘nothing’.” You mutter, irritated.

Silence falls between you two. Which is not unusual but this silence is painful. Thick and suffocating. Not the usual calming, healing silence you two share. This silence made your heart race far too fast.

“Is it me?” You ask in the coldest tone you can muster. “Have I done something wrong? Am I not enough?” You speak harsh words. Yet they’re the words that have haunted the back of your thoughts for days now. Souring the image of yourself inside and out.

Gaara jerks at the words. He looks at you in pure disbelief as if he can’t understand what you mean. “No-“

He tries to stop you but the floodgates have already opened. All of your feelings and your thoughts pour out of your mouth like rainwater. Tears fall when you try your best to will them away but it doesn’t help. You sob into your hands as Gaara moves to your side.

He’s no longer hesitant as he wraps his arms around you. Lifts you into his chest in a warm embrace. Hugs you so gently it makes you hiccup.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles into your hair. Apologizing like his life depended on it. He smooths loose strands of your hair away from your face. Wipes the tears from your cheeks and eyelids. All while he kisses the crown of your head. It was more affection you’ve received from him in weeks and it damn near broke your heart all over again. “I’m so sorry.”

You quiet your sobs. Breathing in deep in the hopeful comfort of your husband’s arms. One of his hands moves to clasp at your neck, using a finger against your jaw to lift your gaze to his.

“It’s not you.” He whispers. A kiss is placed on your forehead. “You’re amazing. Truly perfect, my dear.” He adds with a quiet chuckle. His thumbs swipe across your cheeks to collect whatever trail was left behind by your tears.

You sniffle. You must look like a horrible mess right now but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you. As if a fire has broken out inside of him, he kisses you with every ounce of passion he’s ever had. Tears threaten to spill once again at the first kiss you’ve two have shared in such a long time but he pulls away before that can happen.

“I want you so bad.” Gaara admits with a shy look on his face. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip. “From the moment I wake up, I want you more than anything,” He whispers under his breath as he soothes circles into your skin. Touching you so delicately like you might disappear. “It scares me how badly I want you. And I’m…just nervous my feelings will run wild and I’ll end up—hurting you.” He mumbles, glancing away from your gaze.

You suddenly realize he means the sentient sand that is always at his disposal. Sand that acted on its own sometimes and he was so worried about it hurting you he tried to keep his distance. All because of his love for you.

Your own emotions overcome you as you kiss him in response. Arms wrapping around his neck with ease as his own wrap around your waist. And now he holds onto you for dear life. Touching every inch of your skin he has so desperately craved but had been so hesitant to reach for. All while kissing you like it might be the last time. Passionate, eager, and hungry.

You two had some catching up to do.

“To bed?” You mouth against his lips between kisses.

He breaks ever so slightly, a red blush to match his hair spreads across his face. “Are you sure?” He responds. Shy even as his hands, body, and soul yearns to devour you.

God you loved him.

“Oh, I’m more than sure.” You whisper, capturing his lips once more.

Without another word, Gaara is pushing you along to your shared bedroom. Eager to make up for his wrongdoings by giving you enough pleasure to make you forget every negative feeling you've ever imagined.

[the-doomed-witch]

Hey can you write a natasha romanoff or wanda maximoff with fem reader with taylor swift's gorgeous? I think that song is perfect for them and it's my fav. Taylor song. Thanks in advance

YOU’RE GORGEOUS

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the journalist, and she’s a celebrity. You’re drunk, and she’s gorgeous. You know how it goes. // based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS + MEN DNI. a really thick tension, almost competing w e/o, jealousy?, everyone’s like reaaally getting drunk, publicly making out, nothing but pining, situationship but it actually works out 💀

SEND ME REQUESTS BASED ON TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Author’s Note: hi anon! i hope you enjoy this 🫶 if you noticed the “hey stephen” no you didn’t 😭 also sorry this became kind of long but overall i loved writing this

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION

— ✦ —

Her flashing green eyes meet your glare as soon as she enters the room, hands tied with her stupid boyfriend. He’s not even just some guy, he’s a fucking microwave.

It was yet another Avengers party, and you were there as a member of the press, again. It was the third one this month, and you were tired of coming up with questions to interview them with. You showed up, asked them updates about their upcoming plans in hopes of a new cover story, ignored Wanda in every way that you could, got drunk, and left. It was a routine for you. But at least you got to drink expensive wine.

Your body tenses up at her sharp death stare, as if she was ready to burn you down. Wherever she went, you moved to the opposite direction, joining a circle of people or excusing them to click a picture of them. Of course, Stephen Strange was a fellow who’d love to get a picture taken, so you follow him.

Wanda sways her hips while walking up to you, her black dress gliding with the movement of her hips. “Hey Stephen, could you excuse us for a minute? Thanks.” Having no opportunity to answer, he nods with a formal smile and leaves you in Wanda’s privacy, all alone.

Placing her glass of whiskey aside, she hugs you. Albeit lightly, but you lose your breath for the second. “Y/N, what a delight to meet you. I feel like we need a lot of catching up to do.” she speaks with a smirk on her face, adorned by curls of her red hair falling down gracefully

You politely agree and grab yourself a drink; it was what you had to do in your professional capacity. Journalists cannot be rude to anyone.

She takes you to a quieter corner of the deafening party, that God knows how even exists. It was dark, but you had a couch to yourselves, just enough space to fit the two of you at a safe distance.

She speaks something, but you don’t hear it, you’re too busy staring at her cleavage. Wanda understands the direction of your pupils right away, and stretches her back, rotating her neck to release the tension.

“I’ve been really tired today. But since we are old friends, I think I should know a little bit about your life these days. How’s everything going on? Have you got a girlfriend?”

Old friends? That’s how you define a homoerotic ass situationship? Really, Wanda? You decide to join her game, and take off your coat, folding it and resting it on your lap.

“Mm, I’d love to say yes, but I’m afraid not. It’s kinda on and off you know.” You adjust your tie, it was harder to breathe with Wanda so close to you. “How are things with Vision?” you counter question her. It isn’t a competition, but you fear giving in against her.

She takes a deep breath, and replies, “I hope none of this goes out into the press.”

“You can trust me, Wans.” You add the nickname as a sign of confidentiality and a personal effect.

“Things haven’t been good with him. I don’t even know what he’s doing out there right now. I’m not even sure where he even is, if he has left the party to go to a club or something. Not that I care anymore…”

“I’m sorry for that, I wish he wasn’t a moron.”

She laughs and slightly hits your arm, “Hey! I’m still his plus one for the night.”

“I guess you should try to find him around here somewhere, then.” you give her the evil smirk. She reflects the same expression and says, “It hurts to know you don’t have a girlfriend yet. You deserve one, for the stunning woman you are.”

It suddenly turns into a game of who can hold back longer and who can roast better. You excuse yourself from the coversation after a little while, and proceed to ask people some questions.

With the glances you steal, you observe that Wanda doesn’t smile for the rest of the evening, not even the perilous grin of hers. The time passes for hours till you are inebriated again, spending your time with the even more drunk host of the evening; Tony Stark.

You stand in a group with him, Valkyrie and Thor around you, all high from unhealthy amounts of drinking. You still hold yet another glass of wine in your hands, sipping between quips and laughter.

“She called me her ‘old friend’… The fuck does that even mean? A friend who’s older than you?” The group laughs with every sentence you narrate to them.

“Girl, we’ve had our fair share of situationships… none of them have ever called me an ‘old friend’… it’s just the weirdest thing to say…”

Thor holds his guffaws back and asks you, “But Y/N, who is this lady that you’re talking of?”

“Well you wouldn’t believe.”

Tony joins in the conversation, “Oh come on Y/N, tell us!”

You notice Wanda entering the little crowd of four of you. She’s just as drunk, but seems to be in little control of herself, unlike you.

You throw your arm around her shoulders, and watch her change the subject of discussion. Maybe she heard what you said, maybe it was involuntary, but she is here to the rescue of you and herself.

In between drinks and limericks by Thor, Wanda’s hand extends to your waist, your arm still around her shoulders.

You both turn towards each other to laugh, but the smiles falter away with the vicinity of your bodies. You freeze for a moment, watching her eyes give you a soft look for the first time in months. Suddenly, she’s the only one in the enormous room, filled with thousands of people. She’s the only one emanating light, in the crowdful of darkness.

Her eyebrows stretch up, with her uncertain expression. For a response, you move your hand to her nape, scratching it softly as you tug her closer to you. She wraps your tie around her wrist, in an attempt to pull you more quickly than your pace.

Her lips feel warm, and delicate. With repeated scratches at the back of her neck, she sighs and pulls your tie even closer, consequently her tongue meeting yours. Your stomach tingles with butterflies till she gives you space to take a breath.

It’s infuriating to feel this way. Out of all the alcohol that made you drunk, only the feeling of her lips brushing against yours managed to intoxicate you.

The lustre of her black dress remains lingering in your eyes when you push Wanda against the bar counter, careful not to hurt her exposed and freckled back. “You’re so fucking gorgeous Wanda,” you speak before capturing her into another kiss, “I hate it so much. God, I hate it so much.”

“Hate me enough to take me home tonight?”

“Oh I could be alone all I want. Unless you wanna come along?”

[akutasoda]

how do you think Jouno, Tecchou (and anyone else you want to add) would be with an S/o that doesn't stand up for themselves?

Your writing is amazing <:

how do i keep going?

synopsis - you never really stood up for yourself, and as your lover they can't have that whem you're so amazing

includes - fyodor, jouno, tecchou, ayatsuji

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, comfort, small talk of being taking advantage of, brief mentions of bullying, threats, wc - 691

a/n: ahhh tysm anon! all i could think about when writing this was 'they asked for no pickles' im so sorry

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

↪fyodor wasn't exactly know for his communication skills, he preferred to be left to his own devices but he would absolutely not tolerate someone talking down on him or trying to take advantage of him. and same would go for you.

↪you were part of a very exclusive group, even more so as his lover, to see the slight softer side he normally kept shadowed away. and seeing youe hesitance to stand up for yourself in any given scenario kind of ticked him the wrong way. you were practically perfect as can be in his eyes why do you tolerate it?

↪he's not the greatest when it comes to emotions but would try his hardest to understand why you would let that happen, whatever the reason would support you in his own weird way. would try and convince you to atleast try to stand up for yourself once.

↪he wouldn't, or try his hardest not to, intervene unless it got bad or really started to annoy him. and would understand if you don't talk about it with him, again he wasn't that good with emotions either. although you seemed to notice that you were left alone more often. weird, almost as if something scared them away huh.

saigiku jouno ★↷

↪very confident person definitely and would absolutely not stand people trying to take advantage of him. so seeing you letting it happen and not sticking up for yourself would leave him confused and slightly annoyed. not at you however.

↪he would kind of understand why you might let it happen but would want to try and encourage you to stick up for yourself. sure he could do it for you and sometimes he would but he knows that you're amazing and more than capable of sticking up for yourself.

↪death glares and threats. he isn't the interrogation specialist for nothing. eventually you might start to notice a decrease in things bothering you, and if you know it's him you might have to tell him to stop before he gets in trouble.

tecchou suehiro ★↷

↪he may not be the most vocal person, opting to stay quiet for some time but that doesn't mean he wouldn't stand up for himself. so seeing you not standing up for yourself and either letting people make fun of you or take advantage of your kind nature would confuse him.

↪why wouldn't you want to stand up for yourself? and maybe not until you would open up to him would he realise why. or he would figure it out on his own but wouldn't pry about it until he truly had to intervene or you finally talked to him about it.

↪but that wouldn't stop him from doing something about it himself. if he was in the vicinity, which is most likely, he wouldn't physically do anything apart from send death glares and take you else where.

↪he knew you were strong enough to take care of your own battles he just silently wishes you would do so more often. you were amazing, you deserved to stand up for yourself. maybe he would try and coax that out of you but if you didn't want to do that that's fone aswell he was always there for you anyway.

yukito ayatsuji ★↷

↪doesn't care what people think. he is well aware if what people think of him and he just doesn't care so that means that he won't tolerate them trying to take advantage of him. he would stick up for himself anytime. so seeing you let people walk over you would weirdly break his heart.

↪why are you not sticking up for yourself? he may figure out why if you don't tell him, so he would understand but that still doesn't help in his confusion.

↪wouldn't stick up for you unless you wanted him to or it got really bad, he wants to let you fight your own battles, he knows you're strong enough to. again would encourage you to do so however.

↪maybe if it got specifically bad and you were still not standing up for yourself he would definitely intervene. he might just get a bit carried away.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

people gotta stop saying sunlow is good or well written. sure, it was thought out prior to the poison jungle, and yeah, its healthy (..i think? idk its jus.. there). i like healthy relationships. theyre awesome.

just er. you, you guys realize that willow has like.. no personality, right? shes literally so bland. we, we know NOTHING about her besides ooo she killed hawthorn and ooo she has a pet. shes a blank slate who only serves as a way to introduce us to the sapwings.

she doesnt really add anything to sundew, besides like.. i dont know, making her .. kind? she atleast has someone to be herself around.. but dude jus. im not invested in willow. i literally had to quit tpj because its SO boring. willow has no traits at all and shes only around to be "sundews girlfriend". like, yeah! i love queer rep. im a gay guy myself. but its just.. so boring dude. im not asking for abusive or unhealthy relationships, i just want the characters to be seperate people aside from the relationship.

like.. fuck, you really had to make up this new character that adds practically nothing? and really, shes only used to move the story along. like, what else does she do??? sure, she kills a bad guy. moves the story along, just like i said. she doesnt add anything to the characters around here, and her only trait is that shes sundews girlfriend.

again! im happy this series has queer rep and it allows children to explore queer relationships, but acting like sunlow is the best thing to come out of arc 3 is jus.. wrong to me.

see, i think they shouldve made hazel be sundews partner. DO YOU GET MY VISION???? SHES LITERALLY THE PERFECT DRAGON FOR HER!!!!!!!! and before you say cobra lily, just gonna say it while im here, she is NOT awesome!!! sure, sundew gets along with her, but YOURE SAYING SHE NEARLY KILLED SOMEONE OVER.. INSULTING HER FAMILY???? jfc dude! and, in one scene of tdg, she talks about sundew being queen, even when sundew explicitly says she prefers hazel and that she doesnt want that role. sorry, but hazel x sundew is a perfect option to me.

1, hazel is literally a relative of sequoia. DO YOU KNOW HOW INTERESTING IT WOULDVE BEEN, TO REALIZE THAT SUNDEW, BELLADONNAS DAUGHTER, IS DATING A RELATIVE OF THE SAPWING QUEEN????? THATS SO FUCKING COOL!!! IT RAMPS UP THE DRAMA!!! IT ACTUALLY ADDS SOMETHING TO THE RELATIONSHIP, UNLIKE THE BLAND FASTEST BURN POSSIBLE THAT SUNLOW HAD!!!!! PLUS we'd STILL get the sapwing introduction.

2, hazel has personality. shes her own character, she has traits, and she is able to get along with sundew. its not hard to make a character with an actual personality! i can list off things off the top of my head about hazel! she loves reading to the point she strains her eyes, shes carefree, she loves to bind books together! willow is jus.. happy and sundews girlfriend. thats all she is. sure, maybe add courageous to the mix? but again shes just.. not interesting. she doesnt have any passion. shes just there.

lmao. this turned out waaayyyy longer than i expected. yeah idk i think ill get flamed for this? i know a lot of people say this for the most basic opinions but sunlow is REALLYYYY loved and err. thats exactly why im goin on anon. have a good day.

.

[shalomniscient]

i usually enjoy top zoya the most BUT the other anon's ask did awaken some dormant bottom zoya thoughts in my mind so let me share with the class—

personally i think that even if zoya's bottoming she's not gonna be straight out subbing yk. it's just not really in her nature to give up control and i don't think she'd enjoy it very much?? even if you're the one on top, she's instructing you how to get her off in the way that serves to make you feel like you're the one submitting. but hey, that's not really a bad thing...? she'll def encourage you and give you plenty of praise if you're doing a good job.

POWER DYNAMICS. she may be beneath you, she may have her hands bound but... you both know these restrains aren't exactly holding her back, yeah? she absolutely can snap them if she wants, but she'd rather play along with you. that is, unless you tease her a little too much for a little too long. she's not gonna hesitate to turn the tables on you.

despite that i still think zoya is one of the sinners with the most self control, both in everyday life and in bed — if you want to get a reaction out of her, good luck. there's nearly no chance of her whimpering or saying please — sorry gamers, gotta stick to a certain puppy coded sinner for that one😓😓 but the breathy moans, the groans that sort borderline like she's growling are JUST as rewarding. the furrow of her brows and the way she bites on her lip when you touch in the right spot..... mmmmddhddhhs

ok BUT pet play. sorry this is awfully self indulgent i just want to see her in a muzzle— if you ask her to, she'll eventually agree with more amusement rather than embarrassment. no harm in trying new things if it'll make you happy. (although she realizes halfway through that not getting to bite you is a real pain in the ass.)

sorry for maybe getting a bit lengthy here... i def like her a very normal amount!!

JSNIDOXKSKEKKFKDN ANON THIS… THIS IS ART ??? I’M— I HAVE NO WORDS ?????

[more nsft utc—]

AUGHHH zoya smirking up at you through her muzzle as you ride her, expression twisting in bliss as you feel her press against your innermost depths. her hands are bound behind her back, so she doesn’t grip your hips like she normally does. tonight you’re doing all the work—like you insisted—and she’s more than content to sit back and let it all happen.

or maybe you’re lying between her legs and sucking her off, licking up and down her stiff cock and suckling on the tip, drawing both sticky pre and stuttered growls from her. but if you tease her too much she’s simply snapping her restraints, laying you flat on the edge of your bed and fucking your mouth and throat right then and there. good luck soldier 🫡🫡🫡

KAHXKDKSN THIS ASK IS SO…….. it’s already complete. perfect. chef’s kiss, nothing i can add 😌😌😌 you fucking COOKED anonnie