#i love me a good power trip/power imbalance/power play.

[wangxianficfinder]

SOS help emergency im going on a 19-hr flight soon and im going to need some reading materials. so if y'all could drop your fave long fics so i could download them to read, that would be most awesome 🙏🙏🙏 thank you so much for everything you do your blog has introduced me to so many wonderful fics <3

You know what to do everyone! We need to help Anon not be bored on their very long flight ~ send in some long fics for them to read ^^

- Mod C

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Jumping in to rec 💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriages)

~Mod L

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Many trigger warnings! Take them seriously. But this is a good one: burning camellias by AvoOwO (M, 284k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sunshot Campaign, Prisoner of War, WWX is a Mess, Genius WWX, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Violence, Blood and Injury, BAMF WQ, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, POV WWX, Hurt WWX, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sentient Burial Mounds, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Has No Golden Core, Poisoning, Smart WWX, Protective WQ, WWX & WQ Friendship, Medical Torture, Cannibalism, WWX & WN Friendship, PTSD, Dubious Consent, Consent Issues, Heavy Angst)

on restitution by glitteringmoonlight (M, 98k, LSZ & WWX, WWX & JL, wangxian, dark JC, not JC friendly, captivity, non-graphic torture, angst w/ happy ending)

Ok ok. So it’s not a loooing fic. But it’s worth downloading for a plane trip: a thousand hills, no birds in flight | 千山鳥飛絕 by defractum (nyargles) (E, 26k, WangXian, Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon adjacent setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Canon Divergence, Ghost WWX, Hurt/comfort, Family bonding, Fluff, Angst)

Amazing world building through the sun shot campaign - lots of sex heads up: Better Things to Do with a Flute in Wartime by Anonymous (E, 365k, MingXian, WangXianJue, Sunshot Campaign, Fix-It, Magical Healing Cock, Dual Cultivation, mild Dom/Sub, Undernegotiated Kink, Golden Core Reveal, Breathplay, Choking, Painplay, Subdrop, Topdrop, Major Character Injury, Canon Divergence, What-If, Temperature Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fisting, Spanking, PTSD, Trauma, Self-Harm, (in the pursuit of cultivational badassery) )

Have a safe flight! Awaiting Your Return by Karmiya (E, 118k, WangXian, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, the opposite of slow burn, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Age Difference, discussions of wei wuxian’s canonical abusive childhood)

Over the Rotted Bridge by vailkagami (T, 314k, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ dies, Wei Wuxian doesn’t die, neither do (most of) the  wens, JYL also lives, Original Character(s), outside pov, YLLZ WWX,  Canon Divergence, CQL Verse, Illustrated, Grief/Mourning, Non-Consensual  Resurrection, mute LWJ, Hurt LWJ, Slow Burn, canonical death of a child  (mentioned), Survivor Guilt, PTSD)

❤️ The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen by KouriArashi

T, 139k, wangxian, canon divergence, romance, angst w happy ending, Wen WWX, hurt/comfort, politics, families of choice, revenge, sibling bonding, pining, everyone lives au, Mojo's post)

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers by Yukirin_Snow (M, 273k, wangxian, JC/LXC, ABO, Romance, Slow Burn, Pain, Hurt/Comfort, True Love, Pregnancy, Humor, No one dies that doesn’t deserve to die, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending)

to pierce your heart; to fill it full by stiricide (E, 210k, wangxian, NHS/Other(s), WQ/Other(s), royalty au, magic, bottom LWJ, angst w happy ending, smut, dark gusu lan sect, implied future LWJ/concubine because heirs, blood & gore, sharing a bed, under-negotiated kink, light bondage, minor character death, slow burn, power imbalance, sexual role play, consensual non-con)

With No Particular Affection  by Chrononautical (E, 92k, WangXian, Modern AU, Arranged Marriage, Kid  Fic, Miscommunication, Family Drama, JFM and YZY’s A+ Parenting, Good Uncle JC, Wedding Fluff, Genius WWX, Street Kid WWX, Homelessness, Rich  LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Cinnamon Roll WN, Implied/Referenced Suicide, WWX Has a Pregnancy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst)

Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not rated, 59k, wangxian, JC & WWX, nightmares, sentient burial mounds, possession, panic attacks, night terrors, hurt/comfort, fluff, good sibling JC, hurt WWX, angst w happy ending, blood & injury, hallucinations, insomnia, good sibling WWX, sleepwalking, sleeptalking, protective JC, WWX sees dead people, LWJ pov, PTSD, implied/referenced self-harm, yunmeng siblings feels)

Wei Wuxian Makes a Wish series by natcat5 (M, 119k, wangxian, major character death, underage, madoka magica au, modern w/ magic, time travel, high school au, body horror, self-harm, angst w/ bittersweet ending, time loop, mental instability, suicidal thoughts)

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

Mad about the Boy by TriviasFolly (M, 62k, wangxian, 1950s America au, greaser WWX, historical smoking, historical viewpoints, angst, internal struggle, pre-relationship, homophobia, sexual awakening, sexual experimentation, self-discovery journey, slef-love journey, gay academia, teenage dramatics)

The Fifth Type of Non-Contact Force by Caixx (Not Rated, 83k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor, Actually Somewhat Canon, Mutual Pining, Horny Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Graphic Smut)

I know what my heart wants by yakuso5u (Not Rated, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Father LWJ, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Accidental Child Acquisition, Domestic, Slice of Life, Christmas references)

In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis (E, 70k, wangxian, modern cultivation, scifi au, android WWX, tone: neon seedy, rich people are bored and terrible, post-apocalyptoc landscape, happy ending, smut, severe major characger injury, time loss)

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes) the ultimate fix-everything in my opinion

Twin Demons of Mòby XiaoFeiFei (M, 358k, MXY & WWX, WangXian, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Abuse, Twin Demons of Mo, MXY Lives, Major Character Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Minor Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Torture, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Canon Divergence, Self-Harm, Found Family, Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, POV Alternating)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 663k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons series by starandrea (M, 1M, wangxian, ongoing, animal transformations, weddings)

WWX relives the story - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the trope - it’s early for me: we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club)  

Madam Yu comes to cloud recesses instead of JFM when WWX punches Zixuan: 🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending)

WQ time travels back to the core removal: 🧡 Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WangXian, WWX & WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Angst, Not JC Friendly, BAMF WWX)

Second Summer by Anonymous (M, 152k, wangxian, canon divergence, post-sunshot, mystery, amnesia, memory loss, curses, not everyone dies au, golden core reveal)

Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours) by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, canon compliant, slow burn)

actually super fuffy and funny despite tags: Like a Water-Worn Stone by meyari (T, 41k, wangxian, major character death, hurt/comfort, cchronic illness, serious injuries, self-medication, disability, PTSD, depression, self-worth issues, implied/referenced child abuse, aftermath of war, aftermath of violence, prisoner of war, idenity issues, warning: JGS, discussion of enslavement, discussion of abuse)

LWJ saves WWX from falling at nightless city: Unbreakable Heaven, Luminous Earth by carolyncaves (M, 96k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, canon divergence, secret identity, sharing a bed, literal sleeping together, pining, getting together, suicidal thoughts, bloog & injury, caretaking, sexual content, fluff, angst w happy ending, power imbalance, JYL lives, not everyone dies au)

🧡 Song of Suibian and Bichen: Or, the Greatest (And Only) Furby Master of Demonic Cultivation by moonwaif (T, 64k, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, canon adjacent, The spiritual weapons are furbies, Angst with a Happy Ending, The parent trap but make it WangXian with furbies, Mutual Pining, Taking my favorite parts of every adaptation and smashing them together)

🧡 All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, fix it, not YZY friendly, not Jiang friendly, butterfly effect, no sunshot, madam lan lives, lan WWX)

🧡 like speaking to my heart by SnowshadowAO3 (T, 613k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Some people live!, additional warnings in specific chapters, if you don’t know what daemons are that’s ok because I explain it in the author’s note, also by slow burn I VERY much mean slow burn)

The Same Moon Shines series by sami (Various, 799k, check individual tags from the works!)

Crossover between MDZS and Scum Villain, where Jiang Cheng and Liu Qingge meet, pretend to date, get married, and eventually fall in love. You don't even need to know that much about SVSSS, is so beautiful written that you can just read it: What married people do by Shamelesscooper (E, 216k, JC/LQG, crossover, SVSSS, marriage of convenience, slow burn, pining, demisexual JC, sharing a bed, masturbation, jealousy, slow burn WWX & JC reconciliation, chapter-specific tags in the notes, bathing/washing, enthusiastic consent, relationship negotiaitions)

Nearly 400,000 words, WIP gorgeous AU transmigration: The Tamed by Escheria (T, 366k, wangxian, LWJ/XZ, WWX/WYB, RPF, YLLZ WWX, combination of MDZS & Untamed, OP WWX, XZ is WWX, transmigration, isekai, WIP)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

live from new york by varnes (E, 87k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, This is a SNL AU, however the juniors are featured and there are lots of shenanigans!, slow burn, friends to lovers, pining, getting together, happy ending)

I know what my heart wants by yakuso5u (Not Rated, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Father LWJ, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Accidental Child Acquisition, Domestic, Slice of Life, Christmas references)

Cure by Yukirin_Snow (M, 100k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Cancer, Medical Procedures, Medical Jargon, Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Love at First Sight, possible trigger warnings) i’ll keep reccing this time and time again until more ppl see how good this fic is!!!!!

[kinkyintherealworld]

Sissification - a toxic construction of femininity or getting off on outdated social constructs?

Becca here. 😀

First… I LOVE THAT YOU STARTED THIS DISCUSSION!!!! Thank you so much @youngchastity - who wrote to us (and tagged us in a post) for some healthy discussion around the sissification kink. We’ve definitely had a few things to say about it on the podcast, as have our guests. You can read his post, that started this conversation, here

Rather than speak for both of us at @kinkyintherealworld, I’m going to jump in and answer this from my point of view.

@youngchastity I love your thoughts on gender - I totally agree. I actually reblogged a post by @necromimetics the other day that said: 

“can’t stop thinking about my friend’s cishet partner who said last night that he doesn’t think anyone is the same gender. god-tier take.”

And I agree - we’re all a wibbly-wobbly swirl of masculine, feminine, and everything in between energies, and everyone has their own unique blend. Trying to squash us into labels is lame as hell. 

I like to think I am never one to kink shame (keeping it safe, sane and consensual), and in world where I (and many other women) want to smash the patriarchy, I may be a bit more sensitive to kinks that look down on femininity - or that’s how I have perceived it to date. As someone who has struggled with gender equality issues in real life (your capitalism comment made me give a disgruntled, but amused, snort), it’s hard to not knee jerk react and feel like I need to defend womanhood/femininity. There is still a power imbalance in the world, and equality is still a goal yet to be achieved, but upon dissection, is in the bedroom, playing with kinks, even a place we need to bring this battle? A question that has been raised to me, even before your message.

It’s funny, because I have actually had your very points discussed with me, last fall with my partner, Misty (who if you have read my personal tumblr is trans-personality who enjoys both sides of the gender spectrum fluidly) - we were on a road trip discussing the two episodes you made note of in your post, episode #16 and #19. And Misty, like you, felt we were missing the mark. S/he felt that in no way does sissification for the purpose of humiliation somehow degrade/make fun of/make lesser femininity. For all the same reasons you stated. S/he and I actually talked about doing a podcast about it, to dive more into the topic, Misty felt that strongly. It should be noted that Misty is NOT into sissification or feminization for the purpose of humiliation, and still she felt that we gave the sissification kink a bum rap. 

Hearing her thoughts and yours, I think it is something that should be revisited and, for me personally, I need to take a closer look at why I find it uncomfortable.

Since you made such lovely points I want to try and address each one!

We’ve established that we both agree the trappings around what we consider to be masculine and feminine are made up (and ridiculous). I think, the kink we are talking about here is ultimately humiliation through outdated (but still most commonly accepted) societal norms. IF you get embarrassed about having those things stripped away, and “forced” into the opposite direction… good for you? I mean seriously, how fun is it to get off in weird and wonderful ways with someone who shares your kink from a slightly different perspective! The reality is, I believe, this isn’t hurting anyone. You want a person to lock up your dick, make fun of your little penis (your actual size is irrelevant), or put you in clothing that bends your mind with eroticism and makes you flustered with sexual need - awesome! Life is too short not to enjoy the kinks we have. The bigger question, if I want to dig into the piece that makes me feel uncomfortable is, “Is there misogyny in the specific kink?” - and the answer to that, for me upon reflection, is no. Misogyny comes from the person performing it. So yeah, some kinky things are done with TONS of misogynistic intent… but that isn’t concentrated in one area. Those assholes are everywhere.

To me, feminization is never something that goes hand-in-hand with sissification. My partner feminized himself (their pronouns are all over the place), in a loving way. To empower the feminine in himself. He has often described it as blooming or becoming a butterfly - his higher form of being. So no humiliation to be found, for either of us on either end. I find it hot as fuck when he is all dolled up. 

I haven't dipped my toes into the humiliation via feminization kink (...yet?), so it’s hard for me to wrap my dirty little mind around it. 

Weirdly I do have a bimbofication kink for myself… sometimes. 😁 If I am in a particular mood for the fantasy. I have never found the right time/partner/energy to explore that. Am I feeling humiliation when I go there? I don’t think so…? More the need to feel desired, trophied (yes I made up that word), and used in a deeply submissive way. I’m not embarrassed about that. ;)   I too would be interested in hearing from women who enjoy humiliating others through feminization/sissification, and how they feel about it. Awesome point! 😀

Celebrating feminization! Now that is my jam! 💗 Give me a soft cute boy, and let me make him weak with wanting to be pretty and obedient for me. To me this is a huge mind shift  - the key word “celebrating”, not shaming. Gosh, I could just sink into this topic like the perfect bubble bath. To me, this is a core element to gentle femdom. It is about making boys better… pretty, soft, sweet things that want to please - the D/s element being a key piece. The submissive to be absolutely loved and worshipped for their submission. No shame, not less than me, and certainly not shifting my own very feminine self. I love the feminine. I love to see it in men, and men embracing that side of themselves. Is this a form benevolent sexism? I don’t know. And more to the point, if I am engaging in it with my partners, writing about it on tumblr, and reblogging things that I enjoy around the topic, am I hurting anyone? Food for thought, but I am going to keep doing my thing. ;) I feel like you can look at BDSM here, and for those who wish to criticize it, could for its dynamics. But that feels like a giant, whole other post.    Another thing you mentioned in this point was the strapon, and it’s use as a symbol of power. I have never seen it that way. To me, it is my soul penis… and I love being able to be inside my partner(s). It is an act of love, and makes me want to bring them to amazing places of pleasure (while I get off too). I really don’t enjoy the pictures of women wearing strapons who look like they want to punish their partner with it. But that’s just me. I know lots of people must enjoy that because there is a shit ton of porn that looks that way.

Playing with gender. I like that - and I do it! I love being able to put on a penis!! I really enjoyed trying my hand at Drag King make up and going out as a boy (I’ll post my picture again). I LOVE seeing boys in make up and fucking gender norms right out the window. You said it in your post - gender is made up and stupid. So yeah, let’s play with it, and maybe even break the molds! Though then you’ll have to find something else to get embarrassed and turned on about. ;) Our kinks are about orgasms and pleasure. Let’s enjoy them. In the end, it is all about intent and the people doing it. Not about the kinks themselves. People who want there to be an imbalance of power between women and men will keep doing mean spirited things to keep that nightmare alive - in the streets and in the sheets.

I feel like I have answered your points (I may have jumped around a bit), and I don’t feel the need to argue any of them. Misty had already shone a light on where I may have not been seeing the bigger picture. 

I am SO HAPPY you wrote us a message, and that you took the time to write out your thoughts (that can be read here). So sorry it took me a while to see it and respond! I am always up for conversation and debating (with kindness) any of the points. 

I definitely feel this topic should be a podcast. Any chance you'd like to be on it @youngchastity? ;) 

Hugs! Becca

[analiavs]

Punishing the Headteacher (Gone wrong) (Gone sexual)

TW/Tags: power imbalance, crossdressing (forced), prostitution, voyeurism, blackmail

Summary: Leighton is one of Astral Dream's most consistent clients. But he finds out that the Headteacher's been naughty. He has to punish him... and were does his dogboy fit in.

words: 2950

AO3 link for those that prefer:

Eighty dollars for half an hour wasn’t too bad. Though lately, Leighton’s type had been a  bit illuminating. He fucked into his daintier classmate and took a glance back at Leighton. The man was enthralled. Well he might as well get some entertainment out of this.

“You’re so pretty.” His classmates' green eyes flicked to his in confusion. Leighton wasn’t paying extra for dirty talk tonight. He leaned down and whispered into his ear, 

“Play along for me, I’ll give you half my cut.” He disguised his nod with a kiss. He heard Leighton gasp behind him. When they parted from their kiss he carefully weaved his fingers into his partner’s black hair. 

“You're so lovely, I could keep you under me forever.” He heard Leighton moan out his orgasm. It coincided with his time running out so he pulled out. Leighton tried to act collected as he handed over their pay, 

“Good job tonight you two. You’re really shaping up to be professionals.” Leighton held their pay out. They counted quickly, he gave up the extra share. His partner was disinterested in continuing the interaction once he got his pay and walked out with a noncommittal thanks. Now that the two were alone he smirked down at the headteacher.

“Of course, with such a lovely partner performing is easy.” And for good measure he kissed the back of Leighton’s hand, the blush on his face lingered in his mind as he walked out. He licked his lips, if he played his cards right he would have such a delicious meal. Outside the room he got back to work, dancing and accepting patrons. But in his mind he plotted.

By the time Monday rolled around he was actually excited for school for once. During a lull in his english class, he snuck over to the headmaster's office. But Leighton wasn’t there, there was however, a muscular dog man lazing on a chaise. He didn’t move when he addressed him.

“Leighton’s not here lad.” He paused and sniffed the air. He heard a quiet growl. He almost couldn’t believe he’d found someone possessive over that sod. He repressed a smirk and came up with a lie.

“Oh there was an emergency in the lab and Professor Sirris sent me to look for him.”

“Hmph, if it’s that urgent he’s in the gym. But there should be an emergency kit in the back of the classroom.” The dog man didn’t seem concerned by the potential emergency. 

“Ok thank you, by the way what should I call you?” His question was met with a glare. But he did finally answer. 

“Sir Maximus.” And with that he flopped over to presumably nap. Another chess piece joined the game then, but for now he focused on sneaking to the gym. 

It was usually empty since the athletics budget had been embezzled by the former physical education teacher. There was no reason for Leighton to be there, unless he was doing more of his weird photoshoots.

He peeked through the gym door window but to his surprise Leighton was in there alone. He was holding a broom decorated to kind of look like a person and dancing with it. Which was both weird and pathetic, but not incriminating. He watched a bit longer and realized Leighton was pretending to be the follower in the dance.

The graceless spins and tripping over his own feet almost made him laugh out loud. When Leighton accidentally dropped his ‘partner’ he decided to head back to class. He'd been gone long enough that he definitely had a detention by now. And sure enough Doren gave him one. At least he'd made it back in time for lunch. 

This slop was infinitely better than Bailey's abysmal cooking. He shoved it down quickly and then went to sit on the stump in the yard. He wondered just how he could use his new information to tease Leighton. 

Maybe if he could get another private show with him he'd be able to tease him into dancing. It kind of made him want to follow him home to see what other secrets the headteacher had, but that Sir Maximus would probably sniff him out with ease. Suddenly his partner from the brothel came up to him, his eyes were red and swollen, he'd obviously been crying. 

“I need your help, please I'll pay you.” The guy was so fragile looking he couldn’t deny his request even if it had been for free. 

“Sure, there's a shed over there we can talk in private.” Grateful, he nodded and followed him. 

“What's the matter buddy?” That question was like releasing a dam, he looked so relieved to be heard out.

“It's Leighton. He's been blackmailing me…  he had pictures of me stripping and he said if I didn't want to be exposed I had to do private photoshoots for him, but his requests keep getting more and more extreme.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well it started with naked shoots, but it wasn't so different from his quote on quote inspections so it was whatever. Then he started forcing me to crossdress for him. Still weird but some clients are kinkier than others so not too bad either but now he's…” He paused, his voice catching in his throat. He placed an arm on his shoulder to encourage him. 

“Now he wants me to fuck his pet dog boy! And I can't, I refuse it's too disgusting! But if I don't he'll expose me and I'll never be able to get a better job.” He sounded hopeless and even his heart was moved. Worse because one could recover socially from being exposed as a stripper, but Leighton's depraved films would be even worse for someone's reputation if they got out. 

“I'll help you, what do you suggest?”

“I don't know, I just want him to leave me alone. You're under Briar’s protection, so I don't think he would dare threaten you so maybe you could convince him to leave me alone? He told me to meet him tonight at 10 in the usual room but I can't do it anymore. I won't.” 

“Don't worry I'll think of something. You want to stop stripping?”

“I wish but I've got to pay Bailey, same as you.” Oh, he hadn't recognized him from the orphanage, but the added kinship made him even more protective. 

“Damn, I wish I could help with that, but I'll definitely get Leighton to leave you alone. So don't worry anymore.” He felt himself get tackled into a hug.

“Oh thank you, thank you, whatever I make extra I'll give to you.”

“No, don't worry about it. Us orphans gotta stick together.” He felt cool saying it but had no idea how to make it come true. The two parted and he felt the true weight of his words sink in. In history class he pretended to pay attention while he thought up a solution. He matched facts to conjecture.

Leighton was an old bastard, who still used old school cameras so he probably had no idea what cloud saving was. His car had been repo’d and his clothes were frayed, so he probably spends what little money he makes getting his rocks off.

Ergo, he probably wasn't the type to invest in technology either. Would he be so brazen as to keep his files on his computer and physical copies in his office? He'd have to delete everything. The cops wouldn't help and it'd only serve to spread his collection. 

And it seemed like he was living vicariously through his classmate. He smiled, he would feast and knock the headteacher down a few pegs. He went to his detention and used the opportunity to then hide in the school. Around 5:30 he didn't hear anyone else around, so he crept back to Leighton's office and broke in with ease. 

He searched the desk, picking open any lock boxes that he found. Eventually he hit the jackpot and started finding Leighton's stash. It was an absurd amount of pictures. He even found his own pictures from the inspections. He piled everything together and made a list of the students he found currently being blackmailed. Then he turned his attention to Leighton's computer. Instead of going through the trouble of finding the password he just took out the hard drive. 

Hopefully this would be enough to ruin Leighton's little blackmail operation. He took one of the secret passageways out of the school and found a nice spot to burn all the photos. He made sure there was nothing but ash left. Then he beat the hard drive into pieces with a concrete block. Once it was smashed into pieces he tied them to the slab and tossed it into the sewer. Now no one would be able to access Leighton's files.

He exited the sewers near the shopping center. Hopefully the smell wouldn't cling to him. He rushed to the clothing shop. With an hour left before closing he rushed to find what he was looking for.

He was pleased to find a pink and blue cheerleader set that would fit Leighton and grabbed some thigh highs for good measure. On his way to the register he grabbed a thong. 

As always the shopkeeper was discreet, he paid and went on his way. He'd need to head straight to the brothel if he wanted to make it to the meetup on time. No one messed with him on his way to the brothel, the perks of being infamous for being one of Briar’s playthings.

He was right on time and walked into the reserved room with all the confidence in the world. Sir Maximus was sitting next to Leighton on the provided couch. Instantly the smile on Leighton’s face turned into a frown. 

“What are you doing here?” He ignored the question and walked over to them.

“Good to see you again Sir Maximus.” The dog man grunted at him. He handed Leighton the bag.

“Headteacher~ I heard you’ve been naughty.” His teasing tone gave no indication of the punishment Leighton had to look forward to. 

“What are you talking about? Where’s-”

“Why are you worried about him when I'm standing right here? Be a good boy and put your presents on.” He admonished, wagging his finger for added effect. 

“Is this supposed to be some sort of joke. I'm-” He interrupted again, 

“Putting on those clothes unless you want Briar to hear about you shorting us.” He didn't think it was possible for Leighton's face to get any paler. He brought down the hammer, 

“I mean did you seriously think you'd get to use Briar’s property without paying up?” He could see the fear growing on Leighton's face, but in the back of his eye he saw Maximus looked about ready to pounce. He'd need to work quickly. 

“But I haven't shorted you at all! Please!” The mere threat of Briar's rage has completely destroyed his confident facade, pathetic.

“Not me personally, but all of us here belong to Briar. You can't have been audacious enough to think you'd never get caught. You're lucky I caught you instead of Briar. Entertain me tonight and I'll let you off the hook.” With trembling hands Leighton reached into the bag. Before he pulled anything out he spoke to Maximus. 

“Ooh turn around dear, I think you'll like the surprise.” He was glared at, but Maximus did asquience. He focused his attention on Leighton who gasped once he saw what was in the bag. 

Before Leighton could protest he slid up next to him and started helping him strip. He wasn't the ugliest client, but his age definitely showed. Once Leighton was nude he supervised him getting dressed. Honestly the clothes were wasted on him. 

The thong fit well enough and it seemed Leighton's biweekly shave had lined up perfectly this week. Then he quickly slid the skirt on. He quickly adjusted it for Leighton and pulled the strings off the thong up so they were visible on his waist. Leighton's eyes were almost glassy and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it. Then the cropped cheer shirt. And the piece de resistance, the thigh highs. He admired his completed project. For a middle aged man, Leighton didn't have much body hair. 

 But in the end, he was just an old pervert in a cheerleading outfit. As they say you can't put lipstick on a pig. Leighton shifted uncomfortably, hopefully the karma wasn't lost on him. 

“Alright Maxxie, take a look at your present.” He turned and his eyes widened upon seeing Leighton. Though he didn't say anything, his tail started wagging quickly. One man's middle aged pervert was evidently a dog man's fantasy. He hadn't even protested the nickname.

“Alright Leighton, you were gonna have him fuck tonight right? Show him how badly you want it.” 

“What? I wasn't going to fuck him.” 

“Can't you see how badly he wants you?” He slapped his ass and Max growled possessively. Leighton genuinely looked shocked to hear it.

“You want me? But I'm-” Now it was Maximus’ turn to interrupt Leighton.

“How long have we been together? Of course I want you! I could have any owner I want, I choose you.” Leighton practically leaped into Maximus’ arms. He tried to keep his face neutral. He hadn't expected Leighton to be this starved for affection… he was such a freak.  Would it even be a punishment at this point? Max's hands both found an ass cheek to fondle. Well even the best laid plans failed sometimes. He might as well get a meal out of this.

He sandwiched Leighton in, rubbing his crotch against that flat ass. Max growled and moved Leighton away.

“He's mine, I'm not one for sharing.” His jaw actually dropped this time, 

“C'mon let me have a piece of him, his ass is all yours. I just want some head.”

“Hmph, I'll let you have him this last time, after this no one else can touch him. The only scent on you will be mine.” He addressed the last sentence to Leighton and then started tongue kissing him. Left out again he took the opportunity to strip. Well maybe the Leighton problem would resolve itself.

When the two finally parted from the kiss a string of saliva connected them. Leighton was practically cross-eyed, he looked the most euphoric he'd ever seen him. He was surprised by Maximus handing him over. 

“Prepare him for me, harlot.” The casual vitriol was seriously a boner killer. With a sign he led Leighton to the couch and grabbed a random bottle of lube out the supply pile. He bent him over and pulled down the thong. Leighton was usually pliant, but today he was on a whole nother level.

He pressed in easily and started fingering in the lube. Though he was aching for it, Leighton never bottomed at the brothel. To be fair getting some dick was as easy as breathing in this town. Ah, but looks were deceiving, pressing his fingers into Leighton's pink little star was like rubbing up against an oiled up cowgirl. Now he wished he'd pushed harder to get a piece of him.

“You could make money with this ass.” Briar buried his head in his arms.

“Ooh, wha? I'm not paying for this so don't lie to me.” But the compliment did get Leighton to start grinding back against his fingers. He glanced back at Maximus to see if he might be able to get away with taking a turn, but his eyes were locked onto Leighton. Disappointed, he decided to at least enjoy the feeling on his fingers. He still couldn't believe that Leighton could enthrall anyone, nevertheless when Leighton was ready he was unceremoniously shoved out of the way. 

Maximus didn't even acknowledge him as he lubed up his impressive dick and got ready to penetrate Leighton, who was still hiding his face. He smirked and moved up front to tease him. 

“Your precious pet is going to ravage you now. Are you ready?” 

“Shut up. Think I won't punish you for this? I'll have you bent over my lap for a month.” It seemed Leighton was back to his posturing. But before he could respond Max cut in, 

“Thinking about being with another man while I'm behind you? I'll make sure to fuck the thought out of your mind!” And in one brutal thrust Maximus was hilted in Leighton. Like a true slut, Leighton moaned enthusiastically from the penetration. Spurred by it, Maximus started thrusting. It was kind of like watching genuinely amateur porn. 

For every thrust there was a corresponding moan, grunt, or scream. The squelch of the lube, their musk coalescing. He panted, his senses were being overwhelmed. He wasn’t getting paid to fake interest, so why was his dick hard. 

“Yeah, you like that baby?” He felt droplets of sweat splash onto his face. 

“Oh yeah! Fuck my ass!” He couldn’t take his eyes off of the site. Doggystyle was so passé, but watching Leighton getting bounced on his companion’s dick was unlike any coupling he’d ever seen before. The passion between the two; the joy in Leighton’s eyes, the satisfaction in Maximus’ his dick throbbed in his pants.

A familiar feeling passed through him… an orgasm. Bliss shot through his body, he’d never been fed just from watching. With one last thrust Maximus shoved his knot in, Leighton squealed out a moan and came on his stomach. As Maximus bent Leighton around to make out with him, he left the room.

Too late he remembered that Maximus had promised him Leighton’s mouth.

[prpfz]

🍡 🐉 hello! resending this with some retouches since the blog got nuked and I didn't have time to contact the people who liked it :)

last week's house of the dragon episode has given me so much muse to write for aegon/aemond. I'd love to delve into the power imbalance in their relationship and how it shifts when aemond becomes regent. we can have more than one thread at a time or plenty of time skips, flashbacks, etc. I'd love to start with freshly coronated aegon high asf on his new power and starting to realize this whole king thing isn't so bad, aemond is obviously bitter but he's keeping that to himself for now, I have some ideas of how to develop things from there but dubcon that borders on noncon (or hell, full noncon) ensues. things play out as they do on the show and aemond betrays aegon, becoming prince regent, now with the dynamic shifted and aegon bedridden (we can make him be a little more conscious to keep it interesting) he has a lot of mixed emotions, guilt, anger, lust and just like aegon, he's on a little power trip. we can also have flashbacks to when they were younger 🍪 and see how their teenage years shaped who they are now (the toxic relationship between two guys who gave each other their first handjob) dead dove is a given! though it will probably get very smutty there will be a good dose of angst as well.

I don't mind who I write as long as neither of the characters are woobified, let these awful guys be awful guys with all their nastiness and complexities!

I'm currently looking for lazy lit, 2 to 3 paragraphs, give this a like and I'll be in touch

give a like and anon will get back to you

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

small things on my second (third?) unsleeping city rewatch, pt 1

truly nothing compares to that first episode. I've never seen characters and a world so deftly introduced in such a perfect tone, setting up so much of the reveals down the line in everyone's first goddamn scene

I ADORE Margaret Encino, I really do. I still think that TUC1's Pete is my favourite Ally character of all time. Watching him stubbornly refuse to accept that this is not just a bad trip is so good, and honestly good on them for introducing their character with a fake name to half the party and keeping that going literally until Brennan forced them to drop it. They're playing the trust issues so well and it bringes such a fantastic crunchy tension to the group dynamic, bless them for going so hard on this character

the dynamics on the right side of the table have my entire heart:

Ally still being occasionally overwhelmed and Murph hovering at their shoulder like an excited dad teaching his kid to drive

the brutal and beautiful clash between Misty's and Kug's vibes at all times

whenever Pete is doing anything blatantly illegal and Kug the character is taken over fully by Brian 'Lawful Good' Murphy the person. It'll always be Ally doing their scene and Murph being So Scandalised beside them

Siobhan and Murph low-key egging each other on whenever it's about playing the Party Elders

"Do you want me to roll for you?" "Yes, I do, actually! I might make Siobhan my designated roller."

Siobhan and Ally just absolutely shattering at the Wally reveal

honestly so in love with how endlessly polite Ally and Murph are about trading their dice back and forth, every combat there's just a pleasant background chatter of "here you go" "oh thank you" "you're welcome", it's a very small thing but it's so pleasant to see

all three of them being SO nosy and sympathetic about each other's rolls

.

god I love the Pixie wedding so much. The atmosphere, the endless Godfather references, the massively creepy intro to Robert and co, the silly dancing, poor Sofia struggling hard (and Murph and Ally commiserating even harder), "It's my special day so, if you're gonna cry, you should leave", Ally's face when Robert mentions the bubbles, the absolute perfect suspense move of casually going "Kugrash you know this guy" when even Misty didn't, it's all SO good

honestly the perfect episode maybe?

Zac, Murph and Emily's reaction to La Gran Gata is so funny. They're truly The Most Cat People

also Murph's long-suffering but extremely fond "...always needs a familiar"

Emily and Murph are SO tuned specifically into each other all season (can't help but suspect this is a natural consequence of the seating arrangement tbh), but narratively it makes so much sense! Kug was Sofia's intro to the Unsleeping City so she turns to him for everything, and he knew exactly how miserably she was doing and how new this is for her so he's looking out for her and trying to cheer her up in his trashfire ways (and also probably feels some kinda way about seeing someone so shattered by their husband's abandonment). This friendship forever and always

I'm outspoken absolute trash for Sofia and Kug, but the first Dream Team's party dynamic overall is probably my favourite ever party dynamic. There's so much respect and admiration and history and mistrust and fondness and protectiveness and perfectly calibrated power imbalances in terms of knowledge of the word vs. actual magical power, every two characters together have individual conflicts and connections and dynamics, it's just. Perfect.

"Hey Pete, I... bless you with the blessings of um, uh... some pidgeons who died... near a church..."

coming from Twilight Sanctorum where Murph was on an unreal lucky streak for his standards, seeing Kug and his abysmal rolls is truly so funny

given that this is the season that spawned "I'm all the bad guys", I always forget how benevolent a DM Brennan is in TUC. Like, Zac is rolling badly in Ricky's first real talk with Esther? No dude you were funny, take some inspiration (is this literally the only time Brennan gives inspiration on D20???). Emily is disappointed when she doesn't find cool shit in the Bodega? No, you just saved the cat, it's giving you advantage!

the whole weird sexual energy happening between Sofia and La Gran Gata, special shout-out to Murph's face when Sofia says "I'll be waiting, but not in an impatient, desperate way" and "You are not the first woman to turn to a cat when her marriage has fallen apart"

Ricky, Ox and Kug the busted mutt having a jogging sesh will never not be funny, "It's fine, fuck me, go! You stupid kid! You goddamn beautiful boy, you fucker! You absolute asshole!"

"Animal control has decended on you"

Ricky being canonically too hot to stealth

"Just another perfect day for the luckiest, hottest man in New York"

Ricky's selfies and texts to Esther, my beloved

"Misty goes in, word-perfect, note-perfect-" "Please roll low, please roll low..." and Murph's absolute delight at someone else rolling a nat three

Misty and Alyssa tho. Siobhan is ice-cold. "No, I know you're sorry." "This will never happen again -" "No, it won't."

Kug in David's home, just. That whole scene. Crushing. The letter?? Everyone around the table bracing for impact before Kug even opens it. "I leave the letter... because I'll remember it."

we all know this, but Kingston and Liz's talk at the precinct is ICONIC. "Because of you I live in a fucking cartoon now!" lives rent-free in my head

Sofia's tiny meltdown in the drugstore is so funny. Also, her reaction to a random man getting all up in her business is an immediate "Okay! I fight him!" I love her so much

Spaghetti's Bakery, my beloved

The Cry Booth (and half the table cracking up at Pete’s incredibly quick “oh yeah he mistimed the pour over” excuse)

God I love how hateable Priya is. I love nuanced characters a lot but occasionally. You need a villain. Who is just a raging manipulative bitch. For the catharsis

The Talk About Pete?? Incredible. Kingston's devotion gaining such a dangerous edge, like damn, Lou, out the gate with "if things get out of hand, we put him down. Straight up." Kug, searching for a way to explain why he hates this whole situation and landing on just interrupting this extremely serious discussion by yelling "I have kids! I have kids! I fucked up raising my kids!". Misty wanting to lock everyone that bothers her in a cave (it can be a nice cave!). Ricky, the goodest of good beans, pointing out that if they're protecting all of New York, that also means protecting Pete.

All Hail Kug's rat swarms, I love them so much! "Our lives suck anyways!" "We prefer death!" Truly just a LotR girly gifting another some sewer Rohirrim (aka, "sorry i made you play superheroes buddy, can i interest you in some tiny high fantasy dynamic to make it better?")

Brennan revelling in his players outrage will never not be funny

Kingston continues to go so hard, casting heat metal and taking equal damage himself, "What do you say to her?" "Nothing."

the idea of some poor train driver hitting a mounted cop in a subway tunnel

"Live like a rat, die like a rat." !!!

The LOVE for the city radiating off of Brennan and Siobhan in particular is so so sweet

Pete opening the mind link and then just being silent on the line, ultimate power move

god I fucking LOVE this fraught dynamic so much. Always give me groups that have secrets!!!

WALLY AND KUG

just a reminder that Sofia has pictures of Kugrash hugging his son :(

Nod is so fun. The talking cherry tomatoes, the mobsters literally sleeping on the bottom of the river, the dreamworld literally receeding from Kingston, Brennan's mind is just incomprehensible to me

"Ricky, you're gonna get a clue one of these days!" "I know, I think I'm close!"

Siobhan reading The New Colossus!! Also, Emma Lazarus as a Vox Phantasma!

"She's gonna kill you." "Only if she can get here, and I have her goddamn shoes!" God, I love Misty so much, what a pompous little old savage

The Hell scene is SO GOOD though, with the coked-up rat men all scrambling for a finite amount of money!! Murph's "Oh no, this isn't subtle at all!" will always make me crack up. Also can I hear a hell no on the concept of "you weren't so much transformed as made to take the form of your soul"?

Ricky being complimented by the Statue of Liberty

"the danger, of course, is losing the dream in the pursuit of your ability to obtain the dream"

Sofia's (and Emily's tbh) RAGE at the Dale revelation, GOD

also "He's got a job to do on earth! He has deer in the backyard to watch!" Emily!! She cannot keep getting away with this

I really love Pete's evolved wild magic mechanic so much

The Kingston Brown biographical exhibit :(

Goddd Sophie and her brother!! The most tense of scenes!! My love for Sofia knows no bounds

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Beauty ||

Summary: When Nick had said he would love you in every shape and form, you hadn't thought much of it and had laughed it away… Oh...

Pairing: Soft Dark Mobster!Nick Fowler | Wife!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Nick Fowler. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft Dark!Nick, dubcon, filthy trash that's been crushing me for some long days, primal kink (? Omg I don't know he basically forces you to grow out your hairs because idk okay?), humiliation, dacryphilia, taming, power imbalance, captivity, spanking, fingering, oral (reader receives it), boob play, angsty-ish, breeding kink. Basically mobster husband Nick worshipping you in his own twisted way.

Note: Coping with my genes through this story and I am not sorry. All mistakes are mine. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

You bit your lip and sucked in a harsh breath when you heard the door open and then close. Sucking in a deep breath, you felt your heartbeat speed up as your whole body turned rigid. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The clicks of his Italian shoes against the wooden floorboards of his harm proof house got louder and louder until they were a few feet away from you. 

"Where is my favourite little savage?" Your jaw clenched at how he cooed his words, fist choking the duster you were cleaning the furniture with, back still turned to him as you willed him to disappear. "Beastie~" he called out again, this time more condescending, in that disgusting mock-disappointed tone of his, "now, you know what happens when you disrespect me with this kind of behavior."

Your head dropped along with the duster at his words. Oh. If only you had heeded your best friend's warnings and not dated this sick man. If only you had known just what kind of a disgusting and hopeless dynamic awaited you at the end of it. If only you had caught on in time.

Though you weren't sure a man as powerful as Nick Fowler would have stopped at taking no for an answer. 

He probably would have taken you as though you were a possession he was entitled to anyways. 

Maybe you were always supposed to end up here. 

"Come on, now, beastie. It's been 2 whole days, didn't you miss your husband, hm?" One that you had been fooled into marrying. "Come here and show me that pretty face like a good wife that's happy to see her man."

You blamed yourself more than anything. 

How did you not see this coming? 

Resolving to succumb to your role as his primal little wife that he had forced you into being, beating (strictly only your ass or boobs) and fucking every one of your refusals out of you every time you tried to stand your ground, you slowly spun on your heels. 

Not like your body put up much of a fight whenever he did.

He knew all your weaknesses. 

"Ah, there she is~" you walked to him with your head lowered and covered with the long hair that he had made you grow out. "Let me see that beautiful face" his voice was almost demanding as his fingers wrapped around your forearms. 

A whimper left you at the feeling of his warm fingers. You hated your traitorous body that always submitted to his touch. But he was the only physical or human interaction you had been confined to for a whole year now. You had been alone in his huge house for 2 days now as he had gone off for a business trip, leaving you with food and your rule list which included chores to ensure mobility, Nick had promised to be back home exactly at this time today. 

He had harm proofed the house a long time ago to avoid any incidents. All the food that you two ate was delivered to the door by his men that you weren't allowed to answer as you never wore clothes because Nick liked you best in your natural state and also because he could not bear to see you attend to anyone other than him.

"Oh hello, little heathen~" you knew he purposefully used these words to irritate you and to express his power over you. He knew how much you hated them. But you had no choice. Any kind of rebellion or display of annoyance would lead to a disciplining session, as he called them. 

Beautiful little beasts like yourself need to be disciplined before they can be introduced into society. 

Though he never would.

He was far too selfish.

"Fuck, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you, beastie~" moving your hair out of the way, he cupped your face with both his hands and kissed your soft unibrow. Your face burnt in humiliation as you tried to move away but he restricted you by the vice grip one of his hands formed on your chin. "How do you do it?" His fingers caressed the soft fur on the top of your lip now, pecking your mouth a couple times. "So natural," it was your chin now. "So primal," the kisses peppered down to the valley between your breasts, his stubble much stiffer than the soft mat of hair between your boobs. "All mine" his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

"Nick~" you had intended it to be a protest but it came out a needy whine. You hated it. How wet your powerlessness to his rules regarding your body and appearance made you was something that repulsed you. A moan left you now as your fingers snaked through his short hair, the man's body slowly guiding yours to the couch behind you two as he took his sweet time praising and enjoying your breasts. 

You would never admit it. But how he worshipped you in a form you would never have allowed yourself to be in did unexplainable things to your body. What you found embarrassing and even unattractive was the epitome of true beauty to him was astounding to you. 

Sure, he was condescending about it sometimes but that was only to either get a rise out of you to make you slip into his little games or when you would clench harder around him when he would call you humiliating names. 

Fuck. You hated it. All of it. 

"Look at these pretty little fat fuck handles" a loud moan escaped you when he harshly spanked one of your now well pampered boobs, ass perched against the rest of the couch. "So perfect." The noises of the suckling of his lips as he painted the skin of your chest with marks of his love was loud as one of his hands spread your legs. "Gonna fuck them full of milk one day."

You bit your lip in embarrassment as you visualized through your closed eyes how your bushy core must be looking. 

"Would you like that, beastie?" Your hole clenched around the air at his words. "I bet you would. Finally serving your natural purpose..." His words were so wrong. "So pretty and round you would be." A shaky whimper escaped your mouth when his hand cupped the curve between your legs, fingers toying with the hairs before they reached your pussy lips. 

"Nick…" Your voice was full of desperation, pussy dripping against your will. But he worshipped you so well. And at your worst, if you would say so yourself. 

He smirked as he kneeled your legs, kissing the older love bites and marks, one hand still greedily toying with your chest like it would disappear if he let go. "Did this bearded clam miss me?" You absolutely hated him. 

"Ni-ck…!" What had started as an agitated protest morphed into a gasping moan when he prodded your desperate entrance with the tip of his thumb. 

"Sounds like it did" your face burnt hot as he pressed wet kisses along your marked thighs, leaving soft bites occasionally as his thumb teased your wet folds, the squelching noise loud in his otherwise quiet house. "Don't know why you pretend to hate this when all I wanna do is love you." His lips had finally reached your petals, nose burying in your bush as his hot breath caused your core to tingle. "At least your body gets it."

A loud moan fought its way out of your mouth when he swiped his warm tongue across your flesh in a vertical motion, the suddenness and sensitive state of your pussy causing your back to arch. "Nick!" Your fingers tugged at his hair and he took it as a cue to push one of his fingers up your leaking entrance. 

"Fuck, still as tight as the first time I fucked it dumb. You're just perfect, aren't you?" His husky voice and the warmth of honesty in his words added to the pleasure. God, you were such a narcissist. That had to be it. 

"Nick…" Your hips started to sway to assist the rhythm of his slender digit. "Please…" You requested as you looked down, pulsating with need as the darkness of his eyes made you clench around his finger. 

He had such a way of making you feel like the smallest thing ever next to him. 

So naked. So exposed. So vulnerable. 

"You want more, my heathen wife?" You desperately nodded along to his condescending words, whining and biting your lip when he teased your flesh with a kiss, the stubble around his lips teasing and tickling your sensitive core. 

"Yes, Nick! Please, more!"

He added another finger to your slippery cavern, feeling his cock stiffening in reaction to how tightly your hot ring of muscles choked his fingers. "Such a slut" Nick tortured you with his kitten licks and kisses. "Always acting so high and mighty, pretending to hate this, but leaking like a punctured whore needing a cock fix whenever inspected." Your toes curled as his fingers stimulated your walls, lips sucking at your clit. "You can play games with me all you want, beastie." Your husband's voice was muffled against your cunt. "But you know you love this."

Whenever you were close, like right now, you would end up saying the most vile of things that both he and you would chastise you for later. It was always unintentional, but whether truthful or not was something you dared not ponder over later. 

"I do, Nick! I do!" You sobbed from the pleasure, back arched as you looked like a literal Goddess, if Nick said so himself. "Please, Nick!" His fingers lapped at your folds, fingers fucking you fast and rough, now allowing you time to adjust and clench as his blue eyes watched your perfect form darkly. 

Your skin was glowing from tiny droplets of sweat under the daylight coming in from the windows, natural and unplucked eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and concentration as your teeth dug into your bottom lip, the upper one trembling just a little as the soft fur atop it adorned your features in a way so beautiful and unique that he could bet it was only limited to you. How your breasts that were the perfect size and shape trembled with tremors due to how you fucked yourself against his fingers while your gorgeous thighs trembled. 

Nick moaned against your pussy, the action causing vibrations of pleasure down your spine as one of his hands palmed his cock and eyes enjoyed the sight of your pleasure drunk body, lewdly moving against his own. Like a snake in water. 

Fuck. 

You truly were the most gorgeous thing to ever come into existence.

"Nick!" The way you said his name alone could easily tip him off. And the way you hissed in pleasure, praises and thanks forcing their way out of your mouth that he loved to do the most vile things to cause an ache in his balls. Your pussy clenched around his fingers and maintained their hold as you exploded, throwing your head back as you cried out his name over and over, chest heaving as your vision blurred. 

"Fuck, I missed you~" you whispered through the ringing of your ears, pushing him back and against the floor with the heel of your foot as you launched yourself on his clothed form, rubbing the rest of your orgasm out against his thigh. 

Nick smirked as one of his hands squeezed your ass cheeks. "Ah! There she is! My primal little whore-" you shut him up with a rough kiss.

You had a lifetime to antagonize over your actions. But it would be a damn shame to waste this pleasure that was melting your insides into a puddle.

Was it so bad, really? All the man wanted to do was to protect you and worship you. In this moment, you were ready to assure anyone that worse existed out there. 

[bokuroskitten]

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥

〈 you and kuroo have been together for years. Bokuto is his closest ally, so what happens when theres a breach.

† genre/pairing: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI Yakuza AU, Bokuto Koutarou x Fem!Reader.

† word count: 4.2k

† warnings: dubcon (corersion / power imbalance), pining, fingering (f!receiving), creampie, unproctected sex, aftercare if you squint, possessive behaviour.

❦ this lovely piece is for @sugawara-sweetheart decadence collab! I’m slipping in right before the due date hehe! Please check out all the other amazing pieces in collab. Also shoutout to @semisgroupie for beta reading this for me! Ily dee ❦ please let me know what you all think!

You can still remember it, the day Kuroo finally asked to be your boyfriend. Standing outside of the gym, still sweaty from practice. He had come all the way to Fukurodani Academy from his college in Tokyo just to make sure he caught you leaving the gym.

He had been so nervous, taking your hand into his and giving you that classic smirk you loved so dearly.

“I know you have a volleyball team to run, but do you think you have time for a boyfriend too?”

You had been together ever since, even when you graduated, even when Kuroo had to drop out to take over for his father, even when you discovered his father ran a large chunk of the Japanese Yakuza’s underground division.

Kuroo had always been careful, he never brought that life home to you. You were his angel, his precious kitten. Whatever hardships, shady dealings, and dangerous activity he had to do was kept away from home. Away from you at any and all costs.

His job and his life with you was kept separate, for your safety mostly. He has enemies on the other side that would do anything to get their hands on the great Kuroo Tetsuro’s little fiancé and that alone was enough for Kuroo to keep you safe, hidden, and protected with the help of his closest allies.

Which consisted of Bokuto Koutarou. You were already well acquainted with the silver owl, considering the two of you had gone to the same high school. Bokuto had gone into the Yakuza around the same time Kuroo did, easily making a name for himself so his father could enjoy the rest of his life without crime attached to his name. Kuroo and Bokuto stayed close, and got even closer when they had to step into this lifestyle.

Allies were important to have, Kuroo and Bokuto knew this and used their long term friendship to their advantage. Bokuto was one of the only people who knew exactly who you were, your true identity and your relationship to Kuroo. He was to look after you if Kuroo had any “business trips” or had to suddenly leave for “meetings.” Kuroo trusted him to keep you safe, and Bokuto promised to do just that.

What Bokuto hadn’t expected was to fall for you.

He had always seen you like a cute underclassman, always trying your hardest to make everyone happy. Never once did he think he’d start to notice the way your hips swayed when you walked, or how plump your lips were when you applied lip gloss.

It had to be your fault. Maybe you were doing this all on purpose. Bokuto knew himself, and he knew he wasn’t the type of person to fall for his best friend's fiance. So that means it had to be you, maybe you were trying to get his attention when you wore those pretty skirts, maybe you were trying to pull him in when you batted your lashes at him.

Bokuto couldn’t take it anymore, not when he started staring at you a little longer than he should, not when he started to get hard in your presence. Especially not when he started to fuck his fist late at night, hips humping wildly into his palm as your name vibrated off his lips.

So he decided to do something about it. The opportunity presented itself when Kuroo called him up, told him he had some last-minute business to attend to and if he could stay the night with you just in case. Of course, Bokuto agreed, reassuring him that you would be completely safe with him.

So that’s how the two of you ended up here, on the couch late into the evening. You were already dozing off, nuzzling your face into a pillow while your legs laid across Bokuto’s lap. Although a movie had been playing, his amber eyes were locked on your legs. He ate up the surface of your skin, eyes lingering until they landed on your crotch which was currently covered in a pair of satin red pajama bottoms.

The ones Kuroo had bought you for your last anniversary.

Bokuto could feel his heart picking up in speed as he smoothed his palm over your leg. Which had been resting on your knee, but he moved it up, rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You stirred a bit, a yawn slipping past your lips.

“Bo, m’sleepy, gunna go to bed.”

He felt his chest tighten, along with the grip he had on your thigh. It made you squirm.

“Don’t go just yet Birdy. Stay up a little longer, yea? We can watch whatever you want.”

“I won’t stay awake.” You rebuttal, attempting to pull your legs away from Bokuto’s lap.

He worked quickly, deciding on tickling your leg. You jolted from the suddenness of the attack, giggles and whines leaving your lips in streams as Bokuto persisted. He worked his way over you, fingers travelling up your sides and continuing the tickling until his hands found your hips.

Your eyes were sparkling with tears when he finally finished the onslaught, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. That task only seemed more complicated when Bokuto’s large palms pressed your hips further into the couch, his much larger figure looming over you.

In the dimness of the living room, his eyes looked different. Lit up by only the subtle glow of the tv. His pupils were blown out, darting between you and your chest. You suddenly became very aware of his piercing gaze, clearing your throat which made his eyes shoot back up to meet yours.

“Koutarou… is something wrong?”

Bokuto had to hold back a moan at the sweet sound of your pretty little voice. Koutarou. His first name so easily slips off your tongue as if you already belong to him. The scar on the corner of his lip twitched when he grinned down at you.

Before you could ask him again his lips were on yours, smothering any words that threatened to question him again. Your eyes widened, shock and confusion and an odd sense of warmth filling your stomach.

You did the first thing that came to mind, you squirmed, whimpered beneath him.

Wrong. This is all wrong. Bokuto was your senpai, a friend, an ally.

What if Kuroo came home?

“B-Bo--” you managed to squeak out when his lips finally left your own, only to begin pressing wet kisses along your jaw, down your chin. Everything was suddenly a little hazy, and you couldn’t tell whether this sensation was fear or something else.

Something that you had only felt for Kuroo for as long as you could remember.

You snapped back into reality when his lips got dangerously close to your chest, lips threatening to pass the hem of the satin neckline. You yelped, fingers going into Bokuto’s hair and giving a harsh tug.

“B-Bokuto! What are--”

“Birdy--” There was a growl in his tone, one that made your fingertips go numb and your breath caught in your throat.

When he looked back at you he didn’t quite look like himself. This is what you pictured Bokuto looked like on the job. Eyes cold, lips held in a stern line. Not a single speckle of that sparkling gold that his orbs usually held. No traces of a grin that his lips usually graced.

This was Bokuto Koutaruo, a businessman, a potential threat, a possible killer.

“Birdy.” He repeated again, softer this time. He must have felt the way you tensed, the way you sunk further into the couch beneath him. He brought his face close to yours once again and to his displeasure you let out a soft whimper.

“Don’t be scared of me baby, I’d never hurt you…”

“But--”

“But what, pretty, what's the matter, hm? Don’t you want me to show you how much I care about you… don’t you wanna feel special…”

His words were slightly slurred, or so they seemed in your head. His tongue was against your ear, tracing along your earlobe as his warm breath fanned against your skin.

It was a familiar scent, bubblegum. Bokuto’s favourite. It seemed too sweet so close to your nose.

His hands smoothed up your sides, thumbs just inches away from slipping up your tank top and it had goosebumps forming all along your skin.

Wrong.

“We can’t.” You muttered, voice sounding much weaker than you wanted it to when Bokuto pressed another kiss behind your ear.

“Why not?” He was relentless, one knee slowly wedging itself between your thighs despite the way you were squirming.

“Kuroo--”

“Kuroo wants me to take care of you Birdy, and I’m doing just that, aren’t I?” You yelped softly when his teeth suddenly sunk into the flesh of your collarbone. When had he moved down so much? Why hadn’t you noticed his sliver spikes tickling your chin or the way his palms had begun to slide the silky material up your skin.

“I’m taking care of you by makin’ you feel good…”

“But--”

“Kuroo’s gonna be happy…” Bokuto continues, his words suddenly sound distant, your body unbelievably hot as his lips find the tops of your breasts. “His pretty kitty is gonna feel safe and pleased when he gets home…”

Your fingers were no longer lost in Bokuto’s hair, rather they were held loosely above your head, one of his big palms keeping them anchored there as he lifted himself.

You whined, the sudden loss of contact making goosebumps rise along your flesh.

Bokuto had a hard time keeping his grin to himself. Your lips were in a small pout, body squirming, eyes holding a little bit of confusion but most of all.

Desire.

He would get you there. He would hear it.

“I want you Koutaruo .”

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” Bokuto’s voice was low, nothing more than a whisper behind the static of the tv. It made a lump form in your chest.

Your chest tightened the further he pulled away from you. You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“Koutarou.”

There it was.

He leaned back in, his large palm sliding away from your wrists and down your arm instead. All the way down until he cupped your cheek in a large palm. His thumb swiped along your bottom lip.

He had to hold back a groan when your lips opened up just a sliver when your tongue threatened to touch his thumb.

“Let me take care of you, Birdy.”

“Will Kuroo really be okay with it?”

Your voice shook, soft and sweet and oh so innocent. Naive. Adorable.

Bokuto couldn’t wait to have you all to himself. Clearly, Kuroo hadn’t taught you well enough. But Bokuto would, he would teach you to stay away from guys like him.

“Course he will, baby, he always wants what's best for you, isn't that right?”

All you had to do was nod. A gentle, subtle nod. And Bokuto’s lips were back on yours. It was a deep kiss, pressed tightly to your lips and suppressing any chance of denial. Your fingers were back in his hair, but you didn’t tug this time.

Rather you just ran your fingers through silver locks. A bit stiff from the gel, and yet so very soft.

Soft like Kuroo’s.

“Spread your legs, angel.” That dizzy feeling was back when Bokuto’s words vibrated against your lips. Your legs spread open despite your confusion. They were commanded, working on their own.

Working because of the strings Bokuto has somehow placed on them.

“Good girl.” You shivered. That’s what Kuroo always called you.

Was it him speaking to you?

Bokuto was holding back a groan. He should have felt sick to his stomach, looking down at you between his legs with teary eyes and a slightly confused expression. He should have been thinking of Kuroo, his best friend, ally.

But instead, he just felt himself harden, licking along his lower lip and bringing his large palm to cup your sex. You were so warm, even through the fabric of your shorts.

He rubbed it, slow and soft, his eyes widening as he watched you, twitching and whimpering. You were already becoming so pliant, hips rubbing back into his palm. The longer it went on, the warmer you got.

He was so excited to split you open.

“Tell me what you want.” Bokuto looked into your eyes, waited. He knew the words were there on the tip of your tongue.

“C-Can you…” It was so cute, hearing you stutter over yourself despite the way you shamelessly pressed into his hand.

“Can you touch me, Kou...”

Finally he released his groan, loud and guttural. He moved his hands only a moment, just long enough to grip the hem of your shorts. In one swoop they were off your trembling thighs, discarded on the floor.

You were even more beautiful than Bokuto had imagined, one palm covering your flustered face while your thighs glistened in the dim glow of the tv. And there was your cunt, folds slightly swollen and shiny with your desire.

He would have taken a picture if he could have but that could be saved for another time.

“You’re so pretty baby, you’ve got the perfect little cunt.” Bokuto said with one of his signature grins, the ones that used to make your heart flutter back in high school when he would score a point.

His fingers were gentle, rubbing one large strip along your slit. Slowly he split open your lips, holding back the urge to drool. There was your perfect hole, fluttering around nothing.

Basically beckoning him.

“S-Stop staring Kou…” your voice was so whiny, so soft as you looked at him through tear clumped lashes. He hushed you softly, one palm on your cheek so he could have a better view of your face.

He just had to see what you looked like when he finally pressed inside.

“Can’t help it Birdy, you’re just so beautiful…” His thumb pushed past your bottom lip at the same time he pressed two thick fingers into your pussy. Your gasp was adorable, lips quickly latching onto his thumb to hide the whines.

His fingers alone were enough to cause a slight burn, the stretch feeling so much different than the one Kuroo could provide for you. It made you press your hips into his touch, your trembling fingers gripping his wrist with desperation.

Bokuto bit his lip, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. He would push all the way in until he reached his knuckles, allowing the cold surface of his rings to make you yelp every time before pulling out to just his fingertips.

He kept this pace until your hips began to match it, your adorable little body humping along his fingers as you tried your very best to keep yourself quiet.

Bokuto didn’t want that though. He wanted to hear you, needed to hear his name spilling off your lips. So he pulled his thumb from your mouth, gave your bottom lip a little tug as an act of encouragement.

“Feels good baby? Tell me how it feels?”

“F-Feels.” You were still stumbling over yourself. So cute. “Feels good…”

“Yea? I can tell, your pussy is swallowing me up.”

He chuckled when embarrassment flashed over your face, but before you could hide your face from him yet again he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit. The action had you gasping, back lifting slightly off the mattress.

“That’s it…” Bokuto murmured, gaze locked on your face, how it scrunched up and twisted so pretty as the pleasure took over you. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers, an indication for him to add just one more.

“S’too much~” you tried whimpering at him, but Bokuto brushed it off with a couple of quick kisses to your lips. He had to prep you anyway, his cock was already threatening to rip through his pants.

When your voice heightened in pitch Bokuto picked up his pace. He brought his face close to your pussy, allowing his hot breath to fan over it. That had you grasping the cushions for dear life, a string of pleas leaving your lips.

“Want you to come on my fingers now Birdy. You can do it. It’ll feel so good. Be a good girl and cum.”

Your body reacted for you, lips hung open in a silent scream as his fingertips focused on that spongy spot within you. With a couple more tight circles into your clit you fell apart, walls clenching before gushing around his fingers.

Bokuto’s pupils blew out at the sight, nothing but primal desire flooding his system as he watched your arousal drown out his fingers. It wet his knuckles, coated his rings as he ever so slowly pulled his fingers free. The slick pop had both of you groaning softly, and he couldn’t help but watch as he spread his fingers apart to find strings of your arousal keeping them together.

He had to have a taste and refused to continue the evening without it. So he sucked his fingers into his mouth. His moan was nothing short of obscene, making sure he licked off every ounce of your essence.

You were panting as you watched him, eyes still tear glazed and body tingling as it came down from the high. When he finally noticed you staring he grinned.

But this time it was different. Not the scoring high school Bokuto, or the Bokuto who would flash this grin when he had a little too much to drink

This was different. Darker, carnal. It made a shiver travel all the way up your spine.

And yet you still didn’t say no when he told you to take your tank top off, didn’t say no when he pulled off his own black button up, back muscles rippling in the dim lighting as he pulled you into his lap.

And you definitely couldn’t say no to him when he pulled his cock free, the sheer length and girth making you whine.

He was so much bigger than Kuroo. Thicker, wider, maybe even longer.

“Shh Birdy, hold on tight. It’s only gonna hurt for a few seconds. Then I’m gonna make you feel so very good.” His reassurance puts you at ease. Kuroo had done the same for you, way back when the two of you first slept together.

Would Kuroo really be okay with this--

The gasp that was ripped from your throat made Bokuto that much more excited. Just his tip had pushed past the first ring of muscles and already there were tears in your eyes, nails digging into his shoulders at the stretch he provided.

“K-Kou, can’t, I can’t”

“Shh birdy. Remember I’m gonna make you feel good, promise.” And he really did want to make you feel good but fuck, with the way your pussy already clenched around his tip, threatened to suffocate him as he pressed in inch by inch, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his cool.

You were already creaming when he finally bottomed out, your legs wobbly when they tightened around him. Bokuto couldn’t tear his gaze from his lap, where he stretched out your sweet cunt. It was already drooling, swollen from just being split open by him.

Absent-mindedly he trailed his fingers over your tummy, fingers cursorily tracing the bulge he was able to form there.

There’s no way Kuroo filled you up this good, Bokuto knew that for certain.

“P-Please.” Your voice snapped Bokuto back to reality, the whine in your tone enough to make his dick twitch inside you. “M-Move Kou, need you.”

He sighed. Of course you needed him.

With his palms firmly grasping your hips he pulled you up his cock, just enough that the tip was still edged inside before he began to fuck you on himself. His arm muscles rippled with each push and pull, his hips thrust upwards every time he pushed you back down in order to help with the momentum.

You were gripping onto him so tightly, leaving red streaks along his shoulder blades. Your moans were sweet, sweet music, filling up the empty space with nothing but babbles and cries of his name.

There was still a part of him that looked at you with disappointment, a part of him that screamed how wrong this was, a part of him that knew if Kuroo walked through the doors right now you’d probably both be dead.

But when you looked at him with a tear streaked face, lips hung in a silent cry, skin rippling due to his relentless thrusts, how could he stop himself?

He was even more thrilled when your nails dug into his skin, along his back and shoulders, even along his forearms and pecks. “That’s it Birdy, you’re doin’ so well, takin’ my cock like this.”

The wet slapping sounds soon filled up the room, along with the moans and whimpers the both of you released. With a grunt, Bokuto had your back against the cushions once more, just so he could thrust within your tight cunt harder, faster.

Anything to feel you coming around him, to feel your walls squeeze him. It was everything he knew it would be, better even.

And he knew, Kuroo couldn’t make you feel this way, no way in hell could he even compare.

You had planned to ask him to pull out. No one had ever come inside you before, except Kuroo of course. It was his way of marking you, the subtle possessiveness always coming through when he would fill you to the brim and then plug you up.

But now, as Bokuto drilled into you, showered you with praises and sweet groans you lost all thought. All you thought of was the sweet sting, the stretch his cock could provide. The way he was able to smack into your sweet spot with every thrust.

So when he grunted out a “gonna cum.” you couldn’t find the words to stop him, rather you just let your eye roll back, let out a sweet cry when one of his calloused thumbs pressed into your clit.

Bokuto’s hips smacked into you once, twice more, before his balls twitched and his load filled you up. Rope after rope of warm cum spilled into you, one last strand being milked from him as you clenched up around him, finishing only seconds after he did.

His arms were around you, holding your trembling form so tightly to his chest. He had to look though, had to see exactly what it looked like when you were filled to the brim. So he pulled up just a little bit, moaned out loud at the sight of his cock, how when he slowly pulled it out it was covered in a layer of milky slick.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” He murmured, fingers scooping up the beads of arousal dripping from your used hole, only to push them back in.

He didn’t want a single drop wasted.

You were finally starting to come down from the high when Bokuto lifted his weight from you, the loss of contact making you shudder. In your right mind you could have covered up, but instead, you stayed sprawled out, lips tilted into a dumb little smile.

“K-Kou…” You murmured to him, making him look down at you as he stretched out, wincing from the marks you left that managed to break skin.

“Kuroo is gonna be so happy, you took great care of me…” Bokuto hummed, his smirk growing. He was so lucky, so lucky you were so sweet and naive.

He scooped you up then, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. As much as he would have loved to leave you there on the couch, a nice mess for Kuroo to come home to, he had to play it safe. He made sure to clean you up properly, tuck you into bed with fresh and clean clothes.

Bokuto couldn’t lose his closest ally just yet. So until then--

“I’ll make sure Tetsu knows. But you baby, I want you to keep it our secret okay? Can you do that for me?”

That sat funny with you, made your stomach tighten, just how it had at the beginning of the evening. You wanted to question him, ask why you couldn’t be a part of the discussion.

But when Bokuto loomed over you once more, one of his much larger palms easing itself over your neck, you were reminded yet again. Reminded of Bokuto and his power, his power over you.

And now over Kuroo.

“It's our secret. Remember that Birdy. Kuroo has always kept you in a cage, away from the world so others couldn’t hurt you, isn’t that right? Well now I’m going to do the same, keep you in a cage of my own, just the two of us…”

❦ @hqintheclub {check out the network}

❦ all rights reserved to bokuroskitten©

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

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

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

[keilemlucent]

if you are interested, i would like to present my dear salem with hero hawks and his little horny crush on his innocent assistant bc man’s corruption kink go brrrrrr😇

okay look LOOK i have... such a thing for hawks getting a h*rd on for his sweet, far-too kind PA.

(NSFW)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, coersion, (a little bit of) yandere hawks, reader wears lingerie, reader is sorta oblivious,  sugar daddy hawks, scumbag hawks, power imbalance, hawks is a manipulative bastard but its hot so who cares <3

...

“Are you sure this is... appropriate, sir?” 

No, no, definitely not, not at all. Taking his sweet, desperately-in-need-of-a-break PA out on a little shopping spree was definitely crossing a lot of professional lines, but how could he care? He was far more focused on the wobbly way ‘sir’ had dripped off your tongue.

It wasn’t sin, but he’d get you there, he was quite persuasive. 

The little shopping trip (literally) landed you at a luxury mall across Fukuoka, many-floored and lavishing decorated with twinkling, bright bulbs and crystal on every fixture. The stores were expensive, too expensive for you to afford on your own but Keigo knew how hard you’d been working! All that extra paperwork (he’d been purposefully giving you because it kept you around the office later and more often) had been getting done beautifully, and you deserved a treat. Many of them. 

Consider it an early bonus.

You already had quite a few bags dangling off your arms, the cords and ribbons digging into your arms (god, he wished he could make some marks of his own--). And Keigo had decided to treat you to one, final stop. He guided you to the store entrance with a hand on your lower back.

God help you, a lingerie store.

Nothing cheap, only custom-made and designer pieces. It was more of a boutique, some places private where no one would bother the two of you. 

He watched your expression, the pull of your brows and the way your pupils dilated. It might’ve been from a bit of ill-placed stress, but he’s sure he can get your eyes just as inky other ways, if given the opportunity. 

“This is remarkably appropriate, dove,” He hummed and ushered you inside the store entrance, flashing a grin to the starry-eyed salesclerk. His hand drifted downward, just over the upper curves of your ass, just to watch you squirm. “Consider it a reward! You’ve been doing so much good for me and the agency, you deserve a treat or two, don’t you think?”

You shifted the bags on your arms and dared to meet his gaze with your own, meek and wide, “I-I think this is more than ‘a treat or two’--”

“Then shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, thanking me for my generosity then?” Keigo smirked as your expression faltered. You were way too easy and god, he fucking loved it.

Before you had a chance to fret anymore, he assured you quietly that everything was alright. A bit of praise to ice the pinpricks he left behind. He shooed you into the fitting rooms, pointing a beaming smile at a clerk and getting to work. 

He’d have you spoiled, whether you liked it or not.

...

You sat on the plush bench of the fitting room, hands in fist and lip tucked between your teeth. You chewed on it, swallowing around your dry throat. Hawks’ voice drifted back from the salesfloor, though you couldn’t tell what he was saying. You could pick up words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ and you could only assume the words were about the bright-eyed, big-titted employee you saw when you walked in.

You squeeze the fabric of your skirt and tried to let some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate. 

“Oh, wow, dove, the selection they have here is amazing!” Hawks whistled as he returned to the fitting room, alone, carrying an armful of padded, velvet hangers. 

“I can imagine,” You wished you could have looked around a bit yourself, but Hawks had a much better eye for these things than you did. You were very fortunate to have him around. 

He arranged them on a gold railing nearby, wings tucked to his back as to not crowd the small space of the dressing room.

It was truly just a single room, though it was large enough. Six-sided, each wall complete with a well-padded, velvet bench seat to idle on. The middle of the room had a little raised platform, leading to three, angled mirrors. They were massive and felt a bit too revealing as Hawks hummed to himself nearby.

The only thing separating you from the rest of the store was a heavy, velvet draping. 

Hawks plopped onto the cushion next to you, letting out a deep sigh and leaning back. You watched him, gaze flickering from the garments on the rack and the exposed patch of his chest visible from the unpopped buttons of his shirt. 

His feathers brushed up against your arm and you shuddered.

“Now, sweet thing,” He clicked his tongue, jerking his gaze to the hangers. “I picked out some pretty sweet pieces for you. Why don’t you try them on and let me know what you think, hm?”

You nodded, though your stomach felt like there was suddenly lead in it. From the looks of the lace and silks, those pieces weren't going to cover much of anything. You mentally sparred with yourself.

It’s not... that bad. It’s not like he’s going to see anything more than he would if you were wearing a swimsuit. 

Besides, this a gift, right? You should at least show him what he’d paid for on an actual body. 

He had you so well-trained--

You stood, moving to the rack on shaking legs and examining the pieces.

They’re all... a bit whorish. None of those soft babydolls and teddies that folks wore in those softcore pornos that you definitely never watched. The pieces Hawks picked for you aren’t the least bit modest. They’re all lace, mesh, and ribbons. Stockings and garters that looked like they might be a tich too snug. You grab the least garish-looking piece. 

And Hawks was still in the room, body lax and slumped against the cushions.

His eyes lazily opened, a bushy brow-raising, “You good, dove?” 

“... Aren’t you gonna step out?” 

He chuckled and you knew you were fucked. Just not literally, not yet. 

“Why the hell would I do that?” Hawks laughed and righted himself. His vibrant gold eyes bore into yours, though they looked more black than topaz by that point. 

You swallowed. 

“I would prefer if you d-did.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice oozed something that made your knees weak. “What then? I know you don’t like disappointing me.”

You didn’t, but this was a bit far. ‘A bit’. 

“... s-sir, please,” You begged, albeit quietly. 

This was crossing lines. As much as Hawks gave you special treatment at the agency, literally and figuratively taking you under his wing and tending to your needs as he saw them and has he saw fit, stripping and playing dress-up in expensive lingerie definitely was too far.

As much as part of you adored the attention, you tried to keep that quiet. Stuffed down and hidden. Hawks was your boss, and you had to keep yourself occupied with his busy schedule and mountains of paperwork, lest you allow yourself to dissolve into thinking his attentions were anything other than favoritism. 

Oh my god, you really were that dense

“’Please’?” Hawks cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling. “‘Please’ what, dovey? Tell me.”

You let out a shaking breath, “Hawks, this is remarkably inappropriate--” 

“Maybe,” He cuts you off swiftly, a flap of his wings pushing him to his feet and directly in front of you. “You just need some help? That’s it?”

Your mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong, not really. 

“That’s all, huh?” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, his wings curling around the room, too-wide and fluffed for the small space. “Should’ve just said something. I imagine you don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“N-no, I don’t.”

Does anyone? 

“That’s alright, I know you try your best and just need that extra push, hm?” Hawks sighed, deep in his chest. 

With the scarlet swallowing your peripheral vision, you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe in a good way. You nodded, pliant.

He always knows you. What you want, what you crave, what you need. 

Nimble fingers untucked your blouse from your waist, and you yipped at the chill of his fingers. He was undeterred, loosening the garment and immediately going for the buttons.

One by one, they came undone and you wrap your arms tighter around your middle. Hawks ogled, openly and without a care. It made something in you writhe, but you still wanted more of it. His attention, overt affections that supposedly mean nothing-- you want it.

He slid the blouse from your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. You watched as his feather shuddered, rippling as he let out a few harsh breaths. You knew how you must look, hot and flushed to the touch. Bare on your upper half, sans a cheap bra that had seen better. 

“Are you sure--” You weren’t sure what you were going to ask, but Hawks didn’t let you say it besides.

“Yes, of course, obviously,’” He licked his goddamn lips. A taloned-finger caught the pilling strap of your bra, snapping it against your shoulder. “Besides, look at this! Can’t have you representing the agency, me, and my brand wearing shit like this.”

Something burned in your gut, some mix of shame and arousal that was threatening to spill from the wet corners of your eyes. 

Hawks dropped to his knees, so fast you hardly could register it. His hands hooked in your skirt by the first two knuckles and tugged and he went down. The sound of splitting fabric cracked in the air, and your skirt fell to the floor in tatters.

And Hawks, the fucker, hovered just inches away from your covered cunt. The cheap cotton of your panties did nothing to shield you from the hot breath that he fanned over you.

“H-Hawks!” You cried out, attempting to push at his shoulders with sweaty palms. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just taking a closer look,” He gave you no time to protest as those quick fingers of his pulled the elastic of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. He had the decency to tap your ankles, one at a time, so you could step out of the garment. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You let him. 

Perhaps you should’ve protested a bit more. Maybe. But it wasn’t like this wasn’t your wildest fantasy. Your sweet, too-kind boss, spoiling you. You weren’t sure if you’d thought about Hawks that way at first, but he had gotten to you at some point. The impromptu lunches, the late nights together, the walks and flights home. There was even that one he’d managed to wrestle a guy getting too handsy at a club with (how had he known you’d even been there?)

Hawks unclipped your bra, throwing the thing to the side with a  look akin to disgust. He snatched the hanger and garment from your hand and nodded toward the platform.

“Stand over there like a good girl for me, okay? Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

You couldn’t disobey him, could you?

You’d seen what he did to people who crossed him, when it really mattered. He didn’t put his heart or energy into something unless he really, actually cared. And the handful of times you’d seen that go to shit had left memories of sharpened feathers and terror-filled eyes in their wake.

But you were good for him. His assistant who always made sure his meetings lined up with his patrols, and that everything was brief unless entirely necessary otherwise. You were the one who made sure he had caffeine nearby and a full belly, even on his most busy of days. 

He’d never do anything other than be kind, right?

You didn’t want to find out otherwise. 

He approached you from behind, the silk of the garment tucked over his arm. His eyes looked predatory, gleaming and inky. 

He only stopped when his chest is flush to your back, hands finding their home just above your hips with a squeeze. You shuddered at the feeling, new and raw and you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved it. 

“I want to see how this looks on you, god,” Hawks groaned, nails biting into your skin. “Hold still for me, dove.”

You did.

You didn’t dare move an inch as Hawks took his sweet time dressing you up. The garment is silken straps, the lace wrapping around the curves of your hips and chest, securely with expert bows that he pats into place after each one.

It was impossible to ignore the bulge pressing into your ass. Even as he pulled the pair of panties between your cheeks, stroking the lace and the fat with a wide palm, you were far more focused on the heat and hardness slowly grinding at the other cheek.

He tied you up expertly, and you watched in the mirrors, seeing each angle of it. The way his hands squeezed and pulled at your flesh along the way. The hungry glint in his eyes as he traced your figure. The way his wings seemed to shake and flutter in tandem with your short, quick breaths.

You were truly at his mercy. 

“Look at that,” He whistled low, grabbing your jaw and pulling your gaze just where he’d like. “Tied up like a pretty present I told you this would be good, didn’t I?”

“Y-You did.”

Hawks sighed, draping himself over your shoulders and nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the part of his plush lips, the way they drag over your skin. You swore you a nip or two.

His gaze met yours in the mirror. One of his hands trailed low, very low, sliding over top of the lace panties and cupping your sex. His index fingers lazily traced your lips through the fabric, idle. His other went to grope your chest, more insistent as he palmed at you, pinching a nipple as you began to sputter. 

A warbled moan cracked from your lips as Hawks fingers dipped below the seams of the pretty garment, rubbing at just the rights parts of you, tugging your body flush to his. 

“W-Wait, Hawks!” You wrapped a hand around on his wrist, begging your breath to stay somewhat even. “What if someone hears? Or one of the employees comes back? What if--”

“Do you think I care?” Hawks groaned, grunting as he ground into your ass. The unmistakable sound of fabric tearing cut through the room (again) and the fabric of his pants hit the ground. And suddenly you could feel how hard and hot he was. 

Something twisted in your gut and your legs rubbed together. Hawks caught your gaze, scarlet enveloping the room from the sides of your vision and the mirror in front of you.

Hawks shifted your face toward his, nosing along your cheek. The grip on your jaw was replaced by one on your throat; he was hardly exerting any pressure but the threat and meaning were clear.

Keigo has you right where he wants you. He always has, always will. You’re just a bit too... naive? No, maybe dumb... That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

“You need this just as I do,” He spoke low and rolling, touch burning like embers. “You know you do. I know you do. You trust me, don’t know?”

All you could do was nod before Keigo slotted his lips to yours, staking a claim that was only new to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugged until you were wincing into his mouth. He caught every sound, every little gesture of yours was his, just like you were. Keigo kicked himself for waiting for this so long, but he could be ginger, under the right circumstances. Ones that benefited him. He could only hope you were as good of a fuck as you were fun to toy with. 

You’d be sin yet, Keigo resolved as he pulled away. He just had to coax you there first, and he wasn’t against more... direct methods.

Maybe you’d finally get it then.

[kyndaris]

The Reality of Friendship

Over the last two years, as the world slowed to a crawl, many people began to reach out. In my last post, I talked about meeting up with people from high school, either via luck or through a simple Facebook comment on a post.

But just reaching out isn’t enough. You have to maintain it if you want to keep alive your connection to other people. Which can be especially hard now that life has returned to a sense of normalcy and everything is opening up again. Once more, we’re all ‘too busy.’ The things that were placed on the backburner have returned with a vengeance. Trips that were delayed can now be experienced.

In many ways, that’s great!

And yet, as a person that is often overlooked, it’s tiring to be the one that is constantly reaching out to see where people are at and organising real life or virtual catch-ups. 

Perhaps it’s because that as we have grown up, our interests have diverged. Maybe people see me as clinging to the past with my love for video games and obsessive reading habits. Yes, it’s a trait that has dogged me for many years and I don’t doubt they’ll be with me until the day I die, but can you blame me when there’s so many mind-blowing narratives and rich worlds to consume?

Still, there’s also a budding resentment within me that has only festered. Why can’t these people ask me out for dinner? Why is it always me that’s trying so desperately to keep hold of old friendships? 

It is exhausting trying to carry these all on my back. And it’s worse when, during the pandemic, all I was trying to do was lift everyone’s spirits because we were in one of the longest and most terrible of lockdowns. Honestly, it’s hard when you feel like you’re the only one obeying the health mandates of keeping away when other people seem to be out on the streets spreading COVID-19 around like there’s no tomorrow (although on that note, could I possibly give a warm welcome to monkey pox?)

To be fair, though, I’m not trying to be clingy. I only ever reach out every few weeks or so. Perhaps once a month or with just an annual ‘Happy Birthday’ because my mind is a steel trap and I have everything memorised.

Still, maybe there’s a reason why people just gradually fall out of friendships. Possibly because of our busy lifestyles or that we want different things out of life. It’s no-one’s fault and yet the friendship is giving back as much as I put in when it comes to enjoyment. It doesn’t even matter if the two people involved might have supposedly similar personalities (they don’t really - the only common denominator seems to just being introverted but being introverted simply means that one’s social battery drains too fast). If one person becomes reluctant to engage, and wants to withdraw, maybe that’s a sign that a break is needed. Especially if conversations are stilted if the other party wants something more from me than I’m willing to give.

But maybe, too, there’s a power imbalance in the friendship. What does one do when someone has put another on a pedestal in their mind. Or what about those that cling to a specific image of an individual? Nostalgia can go a long way but friendships based on it cannot last without some sort of change to the dynamic.

I suppose some of this strange dissonance with other people might come from the fact that I have a very eclectic and wide-ranging number of things that I enjoy and consume. There are people out there, however, that don’t engage as much. Rather, they’re perfectly fine with not engaging in anything that’s popular or mainstream, instead reading plot synopses on Wikipedia instead of actually experiencing a given TV show, game or book. It makes talking about the latest episode of say, Umbrella Academy or The Good Place, all that harder because they don’t have the quotes or understand the nuanced references.

So, one friend I have, we bonded over our love for the Kingdom Hearts franchise. And yet, when I finished playing Kingdom Hearts 3 and wanted to discuss the ending and how Nomura attempted to redeem Master Xehanort, they hadn’t found a means to play or watch a playthrough. Rather, they were only able to hear my rants or read my spoiler-filled impression of the game.

And though there can be some level of engaging conversation, because they haven’t actually experienced the game fully, it’s harder to get their exact thoughts on Nomura’s twisted form of writing and the hidden hints for the sequel.

It also doesn’t help that with many of my high school friends, our interests are vastly different. I’ve dabbled with so many things. From Dragon Prince to She-Ra to Arcane on the animated side to a vast array of popular TV shows and movies. They have NONE of that context to build from. It’s one thing to just obsess about a TV show that I’ve watched but it’s another to share in that excitement with a fellow appreciator. Thank goodness that I have one friend that I can discuss the craziness of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and appreciate the lyrical genius of Bo Burnham. 

Game-wise, they might know about the video games I play but they’d lack the appreciation I might have for the game - instead, experiencing it only semi-vicariously through my frenetic impressions on my blog. But honestly, most of my ‘friends’ don’t read my blog for the games. They read it for the personal anecdotes because games don’t interest them. Or the games that they play are simple mobile ones or just the same game that they’ve played for years and years.

And don’t even talk about books.

I don’t think most of the people I know have picked up a proper novel in years. They might sing my praises when it comes to the short stories they’ve read on my FictionPress but there’s little context for them with which to compare. How can they when they’ve not heard the likes of Tess Gerritsen, Robin Hobb, Brandon Sanderson or Thomas Harris? That’s not to mention the likes of Sarah J. Maas and her ilk of YA authors (some good and others...intriguing).

How can I properly rant about the connected Maasverse if there’s no context? I can’t decry the wing kinks, the slash of white and the way all the ‘males’ growl about their mates. 

I mean, yes, I could rant about it - after all, I just did - but without that shared experience, it falls flat.

Maybe this is all me catastrophising and I’ll reignite the spark of friendship that had us clasping our hands in solidarity. Or maybe it’s time for me to talk it out and put it out of its misery. Like a romantic relationship, it seems that people can fall in and out of friendships too. And after investing so much time and effort into it, if I’m not receiving anything back, maybe it’s time to just step away.

Or maybe just reduce our status back to acquaintances that might warrant a simple ‘hello’ if we see each other on the street.

It’s hard because there’s a lot of shared memories when it comes to people that I’ve known since high school or before. But when I have to hide parts of who I am simply to keep up the charade that I’m the same person from a decade ago, it is so draining.

But even though change was something I’m scared of, the truth of the matter is that I’m not the same Kyndaris. And I simply don’t derive as much fun or joy from the other person as I might have. The meaningful chats are one-sided and I don’t want them to be tethered to someone who can’t appreciate their insights into their personal psyche. You deserve someone that will actually listen and can respond in kind. That someone, unfortunately, is not me. 

Suffice it to say, that was a long and winding tangent. Still, at its core is the concept that friendship is a strange and fickle thing. Some people might remain friends for the rest of their lives. But other times, friendships too, must come to an end. Or, at the very least, be put on hold before they become a cloying toxic mess.

In summary: I’m sorry to the future people I might be cutting off. I wish I didn’t resent you for things that aren’t your fault. If I’ve hurt you by drawing away, I’m really and truly sorry. Maybe friendship just isn’t for us. Maybe my friends AREN’T my power. Or, my power has moved on to a new set of friends.

Still, perhaps we can be acquaintances? Or perhaps I simply need a break to collect my thoughts and think about what this relationship means to me and if I truly need it in my life.

[skypied]

Have you written anything recently that you’re especially proud of or wanna show off or talk about? I Want To Know

Hehe. Published, or otherwise? I am very, very happy with hard feelings. My motivation has been very iffy lately and only happening in sparks, this idea just sprung into my brain 5 minutes after waking up (and talking some similarly angsty fic ideas with friends the night before - still hoping/waiting for that one to get published 👀👀). I pushed back my work day to get the first draft done, and I think it only took ... five hours between I began writing and publishing it. (Though I have gone back and added a couple of sentences). So it was like a lightning bolt that just felt very right and I'm very glad I chased the inspiration instead of putting it off.

And ... the idea for a larger fic based on deciding to break up but take a road trip first that's a slow burn torture of denial and heartbreak is still haunting me and I am working on it in fits and torturing friends with it. Putting the rest under a cut, 'cause you know I love to ramble.

(This is super, super long btw, even by my standards. There's a snippet at the end. It can be read without reading all the stuff first. Snippet begins one paragraph after the picture/meme.)

I'm still not done narrowing down what themes I'm going to work with, 'cause I have so many thoughts about how their relationship could be in this and themes for their characters. 'Cause. Yes, the break up is the catalyst for shit going down hill, but there's gotta be things that have festered.

First of all, I think they straight up got together too young for their own good. Like, probably the summer after the movie. They've had no other romantic/sexual experiences, and have grown unhealthily codependent, both not capable of envisioning a life not together, not constantly available to each other.

I think this Luca jumped too quickly from being smothered by his family, into being smothered by Alberto. Not that Alberto smothers him, but that he too quickly falls into the easy comfort of having someone to rely on, when what he really needs, is a couple of years to grow into his own person. I think he saw his freedom in Alberto, instead of finding it for himself, because it was easier and less uncomfortable, so Luca never really learned how to be alone and rely on himself.

I think that this Alberto never stopped with the phase of idealizing Luca, of believing he's perfect and excusing what flaws do come out to play. In a kind of harmful way. I think he sees the gap between his own worth and Luca's worth as so big, both for "logical" reasons (Luca going to school, being ambitious, being a generally "good kid" while he's "just" an orphaned kid), and for his own self worth being so abysmally low. (I am also toying with his and Massimo's relationship not being as healed as Ciao Alberto makes it out to be, that they still don't really talk, and so Luca is still the only person Alberto really can open up to and rely on. Furthering the codependency, and the lengths Alberto goes to in excusing Luca's treatment of him.)

I also think there's a weird, mismatched feeling of power imbalance for them both. Luca feels obligational guilt over Alberto paying his school fees, and is torn between that guilt and wanting to make him proud by reaching for the stars. While Alberto's never comes to understand his own worth, and that Luca loves him, and that he doesn’t have to give and give and give to keep him around.

So the dynamic is kind of - Luca always, always goes to Alberto for all his problems. Probably the most noticably is he uses Alberto to regulate all his negative emotions, taking them out on him via arguing or sex. I think he on some level knows this, but has been shoving it to the back of his mind for far too long. I think he's very aware of how easy it is to bend Alberto to his will, and how Luca thinks he knows Alberto well enough to anticipate his reactions to everything. His acceptance to uni in Rome is probably the first time Alberto has given him any actual resistance.

Meanwhile, Alberto has too low of a self worth to realize Luca's kind of being an... almost abusive asshole to him. He's still just amazed, over the moon, that the person he considers a perfect angel wants to waste his time on him. I think he very easily smooths out Luca's flaws in his mind, even goes as far as to take the blame for them (because he inherently feels he deserves them), though he also deep down knows something isn't right. And he never got over the belief that one day the other shoe will drop, one day Luca will leave him. That's why he gives up so easily on their relationship when Luca wants to move to Rome. It's - "Well, it was gonna happen eventually. No need to prolong this." (Except he does in the most terrible way by suggesting the road trip, because he wants to get the most time with Luca. Gotta love self destruction.)

I think the breakup will go something like - Luca's super excited to tell Alberto, 'cause he's proud, and he wants Alberto to be proud, and Alberto just kinds of shuts down because he realizes he'll be left again. He's very, very reluctant (and/or straight up denying) to the possibility of LDR or moving to Rome with him, because he's long since accepted Luca eventually leaving him, and probably thinks it's for the better for Luca. I think Luca will be disappointed, sad, and straight up offended, because he fought so hard for Alberto in the Portorosso race, risked so much. So they both kind of instantly give up on each other, and though Luca tries begging him, Alberto's just shut down to ease his heartbreak.

When the scene in hard feelings eventually happens, I think Luca's lost all hope. I think he's still angry and offended Alberto seems to have given up on him, but underneath, heartbroken and terrified to be alone. So if this ends up a bigger thing, it will be everything leading up to that. I am also trying to write a happy ending, it's just really hard to resolve everything going on in a satisfying way. 'Cause really, it doesn't sound like they're good for each other in this, lol, but I do love the "hey we're kind of shit but let's work on this together, yeah?"

This all sounds so very very dark writing it down! Luca sounds way worse than I want him to be. Describing him as "an almost abusive asshole" made me really bummed out. I don't think he's abusive, he's just... been spoilt on Alberto's kindness and selflessness, learnt to take advantage of it because it's easier than dealing with shit on his own, and it turns into an extremely self-loathing spiral Luca can't get out of without tearing their whole relationship to pieces. It's just a very, very complicated and mutually destructive dynamic they've developed.

You know?

This is very much my headspace going into it, lol:

I think the whole potential fic will be written from Luca sitting alone and drunk in his new apartment in Rome after Alberto's left, to give him space to reflect upon where he went wrong. I find adding real-time reflections into past scenes is really delicious.

What I've written so far is so very, very still in a rough word vomit form, but I've got one scene I ... think I'm pleased with? I might cut it short before they have sex, I'm not sure yet - I'm actually gonna bold the sentence I feel is the true end of the scene, but I also wanted to try my hand at writing the kind of emotional numbing sex they engage in. Might be moved somewhere else. Idk! It's all so very vague still. But here ya go:

“There’s so much I need to tell you,” he exhaled sharply and you could practically smell the warm saltwater tears welling behind his eyes, “before you- before you-”

“You make it sound like I’m dying,” you said, forcing a cheerful little chuckle into your voice.

“You might as well be,” he continued in his dour mood and for a second anger flashed through you, you both promised to stay cheerful, to clench your hands around the shattered edges and keep the cracks from spreading, and here he was ruining it.

You swallowed to stop yourself from lashing out. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“It would have been easier, Luca, I’d rather fucking crash the car and pull your broken body out myself, because you would have been mine forever.” He spits the words out, harshly, bitterly, and you’re stunned into silence. He’s prone to fits of hard, ugly emotions like this, but he’d never been mad at you. “I’m gonna have the same fucking pain but wondering what could have been, what’s going on in your life, who are you seeing, who are you-” his voice broke into a strangled noise, “-who you’re replacing me with.”

You wanted to say the truth, I’d never replace you.

You wanted to say what was honest, no one could ever replace you.

You wanted to swallow your pride and say, I don’t want to replace you, Alberto, I want us to figure this out, I know we can, we’re good at that. I’ll come back to Portorosso and work at the library or you could teach me how to bake and I could work at the focacceria, and pause for his wet laughter, you could keep working with your dad and he can retire in peace knowing you’ll keep the pescheria running, and I can help you out, and we’ll be together, and we’ll be happy, what’s a degree in fucking astronomy compared to that? And he’d chuckle again and kiss you and say nothing and everything would be perfect again.

But you didn’t, did you. You swallowed down all the warmth and love burning in your throat to make your voice cold and flat and say, “I think someone who’s actually lost someone wouldn’t think that.”

And you saw the betrayal on his face, and you pretended you were surprised to have said it, that you weren’t thinking, of course I didn’t mean it, he knows you do this, snap back too quickly and end up hurting people, and you’re sorry, so sorry, can we please go back to normal? I’ll make it up to you.

But you expected it, knew exactly what your words meant, precisely which wounds you were pressing your finger into, and you knew precisely why; because it’s easier to pick at his scabs than your own.

For once, he didn’t take your apologies.

“It would have been easier,” he said quietly and rolled over.

The silence pressed down on your chest and you thought you’d never felt as alone. You felt the din of everything unspoken and spoken swell between you, rolled his words against yours and wondered why you were like this.

You felt the mattress moving underneath you until he enveloped you in a hesitant hug.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you hid your sigh of relief as you took his hand.

“Me too,” you said.

“Friends again?”

He made it far too easy. He didn’t even ask for an apology. Hell, you knew he probably blamed himself for instigating it, for every single trait he hates himself for but not you for sharing, for being rash and hot-headed and running your mouth and hurting people, because he never stopped believing you were his savior and never dared challenge you in case you left. Because he’s always been far too selfless, always took every sharp stone you threw at him and thought he deserved it.

“Yeah.”

You should have said sorry, but you were always way too good at ignoring his pain in favor of your discomfort.

He kissed your neck, questioning, inviting, hoping.

You turned over and cupped his face.

And you did what you do best, hoping actions would speak louder than words, hoping your touch would smooth over your words, hoping to apologize without the words you found so ridiculously hard to say for no reason. Pride, probably. Pride and greed. You always wanted his heart fully, yet never gave up your own. Not even close to it. You didn’t even try.

You tried to keep it slow and gentle, the apology he deserved, to be treated the way he treated you, but with every soft kiss and caress he gave you, the fire within you only burned brighter. Because how in the fuck did you deserve anything close to this. How in the fuck could you keep hurting him and he came crawling for forgiveness every damn time.

You used to think he understood why you did this, that you were desperately trying to sweat out the rage within you, with the way he met your vigor to fan the flames, but you were starting to wonder if he viewed the rough, fast pace you set as further punishment. You looked into his eyes and the way they slowly shut you out the harder you bit his neck and clawed at his back.

You wondered why you never asked what he was feeling when he got like this. Why you always assumed you understood him so fully and completely you never felt the need to ask, are you okay? Is this too much? Do you understand that it’s me I hate, not you? but you didn’t get the time before you were throwing your head back and maybe that was the only time you were ever fully honest with him, when you gasped and trembled around his name and body, when he wiped your mind so blank you almost felt happy.

And still, after letting you tear and claw at him like a feral cat, he kissed you and gently talked and soothed you down from the frenzied fever you had worked yourself into. Still, you were the one falling asleep in his arms, like you were the one needing comfort.

[marvelthalia]

Fan Theory that Kublai Khan was in love with Marco Polo (Netflix)

Okay so I will admit I’m not well read enough to understand what coquetry means without looking it up. For those who like me, don’t know it means flirtatious behaviour. The reason I bring this up is because I was going through the Khan’s speech when he goes off on Marco about saving his father whilst Jingim’s kids are being born and every line of it just makes it seem more and more like he loved Marco or though Marco was in love with him. I know people always put Marco in as the Khan’s ‘son’ or ship him Jingim (which I also do) but just look at this speech and tell me he’s not head over heels in love with this Europe. N.B. This is only about the Netflix TV show, obviously not about real life.

The world gets bigger, so you open your arms wider. Is that not the Ghengis way?You let in the outsiders, with their sad eyes and wounded hearts, the orphaned son, the abandoned boy, you let them in your home, learn from them? Yes, but raise them and love them? Offer them all the magic the whole world has to offer? They fuck you. Oaths? Meaningless. Love in their eyes, worthless. Heart they promise you, will never be. Oh, they’ll stare, plead. Love mixed with awe mixed with coquetry mixed with an insatiable festering need. Need of a home, need of a father, need of a fucking place in the world. Give them all of this and more and what do they do, they scurry back to their dubious relations despite their meager characters that lack entirely of heart.

Like are you kidding me? The “orphaned son” must be his adopted son Ahmad but the “abandoned boy”? That’s defo Marco.  “Raise them” is Ahmad (even though Polo is like 19 when he reaches Cambulac) but the “love them” is referring to both of them because he loves them both one as a son and one as something more perhaps?

“Offer them all the magic the whole world has to offer” What do you, a king, do for your lover if not show them all the wonders of the world. When he showed him Xanadu in S2 tell me that wasn’t some showing off to a crush like look at my magic city, look at me climb this mountain and watch me stare down a wolf, come on a nice romantic secluded hike with me.

“Love in their eyes” “Heart they promise you, will never be” I don’t even have to explain this one, like come on guys. Kublai clearly thought Marco loved him, like LOVED him, and he’s heartbroken and pissed off now that he thinks that not true.

And that brings us to where we started “Love mixed with awe mixed with coquetry mixed with an insatiable fucking need” Kublai probably liked the power imbalance, this young boy completely out of his depth with no friends, completely at his mercy and the mercy of his every whim. A pretty boy with flowery words who spends half his time playing chess with the Khan in his private quarters and whispering sweet nothings about his empire.

But here’s the clincher of my little reading-too-much-into-subtext theory. Marco actually DID love him. I was convinced after I finished the show that Marco had Stockholm Syndrome and there was an explanation/theory on AO3 which outlined all of the good reasons for this, the fact that he can never bring himself to leave the Khan even when he does horrible things, even when he kills little boys who just want a hug and when he sentences Marco to death or beats a man to death in front of him he still remains loyal to the Khan even when multiple people ask him to run away with them or tell him to leave and give him a means of escape he won’t do it and I thought that was textbook Stockholm and it definitely still is but there’s more to it. Marco is in love with Kublai Khan and that’s why he’s so invested in the Mongol Empire, why he constantly risks his own life to save him and why he will never leave.

Also note that this isn’t a healthy relationship I’m proposing between the two, Kublai has waaaaaaay to much power over him, he’s way older (his sons are the same age if not older than him) and Marco really is just too much in need of a home and a place in the world. I don’t even think the Khan is purposely taking advantage of him in a weird way, he’s just the most powerful guy in the area, of course he’s going to be used to having utter control over other people lives but with Marco he’s almost like a fun Latin novelty who he gets to induct into this new way of thinking where the Khan is his be all and end all and Marco is utterly devoted to him by the end. For a guy on a power trip I can only assume that would be fun and we saw with Mei Lin how easy it was for a royal concubine to worm their way into his good books and arguably into his heart (if not his bed). The only other person who I think gets that same level of devotion is Kokachin the fake blue princess who we have explicitly seen he loves and even she gets left on read when the Khan’s needs (and his father’s) take precedent.

Kublai loves Marco and that’s why Jingim hates him so much in S1 (amongst other reason like the fact that he never keeps his mouth shut), heck he might have even also been in love with Marco and jealous that his father would likley get first dibs. 

My last and most compelling piece of evidence is simply put, how could anyone look at Marco Polo and not fall in love with him?

fin

[dearest-kibble]

If ur doing korra requests too, how about Amon hcs?

Yknow now that you’ve put that thought in my mind, I uhhh love it. (Also I love Amon’s voice like Amon and Zuko/General Iroh have,,, the best voices. also take a wild guess at who doesn’t have any gifs?)

So let’s say you were an equalist.

A really devout equalist. You were born a nonbender and were more than tired of being pushed around by the triple threats. Injustice had already plagued your world and though you weren’t around for the hundred year war, you’d heard your fair share of stories from your grandmother and father. And the things you’d seen.

Metalbenders making their own money while you had to get by with whatever you earned that day.

Waterbenders who were fabled you bend people to their will.

And there was nothing you could do about that. You were one person, trying to tell others of the injustice you had seen.

So when Amon rose to guide those who have been oppressed? To knock the benders down a peg? Oh you were all for it.

You attend the first rally, then the next and the next. Revelation after revelation. Watching as Amon — the man who’d been scarred by a fire bender who’d been so wronged in the past — make everyone equal. Benders should not have more privileges than the average citizen and if the equalization or numbers was needed to illustrate that?

Well you were all for it.

Amon had even been spirit touched so your siblings-in-equality said.

“Just like Avatar Aang,” excites whispers proclaimed as you watch in satisfaction.

Of course he deserved to be equated to Aang, he was truly trying to make peace and bring balance to a still unbalanced and unjust world.

He rarely speaks with others to hear out stories.

But so your Brothers, Sisters and siblings day, he’ll speak to his followers.

It’s here where you meet him.

In the boiler room of an abandoned Sato factory.

“Thank you, you’re doing something truly amazing for this city. I’d been trying for at least,” You pause to think and stare into his mask. He has deep, blue eyes. “A year before you started to make a difference. This cause, it means a lot to me. If I can do anything to help-”

“Tell me, what have the benders done?”

His voice which you’ve heard carried by a microphone, was much quieter up close. Calculated, volume measured carefully. Words chosen with tact to glide over a silver tongue and rich voice, iced with precision. Iron gravels somewhere in his throat.

It sounds unnatural.

He truly was sent by the spirits.

“They’ve counterfeited money, firebenders - do I even have to explain? Waterbenders, bloodbenders! Yakone terrorized people! The sheer amount of power plant jobs that are given to firebenders! Earthbenders who don’t need to keep a job! And no one will say no to a waterbender after Yakone!! None of it is okay in this world, but you, you strive to make things right in the world again.”

“Join my team. Your experience will prove quite useful to our efforts.” Icy eyes bore into your own. “You are quite useful.” You dip your head in respect.

“I aspire to be of use to this cause. I will devote myself fully to helping you.”

“It will be quite beneficial, I assure you.” If you could see his face (can he even smile?) you were sure he was smirking under the mask.

“Of course Amon, I hope it will be!”

“We have much to discuss. Please, follow me.” He walks to his microphone, places his hands behind his back and speaks with authority. “Brothers and Sisters, soon we will have yet another revelation. One that will make the benders tremble. Soon, we will have true equality, just as Aang intended!” Amon steps back slowly and stands proud as the equalists cheer and roar in approval. He waits for two chi-blockers to flank his sides before beckoning you over with a flick of his wrist.

“Tonight we discuss our ideas for our campaign. Follow me.”

He leads you through a heavily guarded back door.

You suppose being hunted by the (all bender) police would give reason to having so many guards stationed. You walk through doors that part at Amon’s appearance and are greeted with the sight of motorcycles and one truck.

“After you.” He gestures to an open truck and you walk towards it with no question. The interior is bare save for two uncomfortable benches and it occurs to you, this is probably a stolen vehicle.

“So, where are we going? You have got to have a hideout or something, right?” You have no problem stealing from those who steal from you on a daily basis.

“You will see. It’s a quick drive.” There it is again. The hint of a smirk in his voice.

The ride passes in a silence. What do you say to the leader of a revolution?

“Sir, we’re here.” A man in a mask opens the front door. “We will leave you now. Our eyes are still watching your position.” The man nods as he gives a small salute in the form of a bow.

“Very well. Dismissed.”

“Thank you brother!” You give the man a bow back as he leaves the doors open.

“Make sure to return the vehicle to its rightful place.” Amon’s voice calls to the driver as you jump out of the truck.

You expect to find yourself in a dark cave or forest. Not a dark, secluded part of town.

“It makes sense that you’d be here.” It’s a little less climactic than you thought. But hiding in plain sight always did help far more than going out of your way.

“Come inside, we have much to discuss.” Somehow without your noticing, his good is down, his mask away from his face, though he was apparently prepared with a scarf.

“I suppose with your burn, a facial scar would be far too easily recognizable. They’d figure out it was you right away.”

He just nods as he fiddled with a set of keys.

He’s just like everyone else. He just happens to be leading a revolution.

You hear a click, and the door opens to a very bare, sterile room. Masks line the walls, along with various plans and writing utensils.

He waves his hand in a motion for you to enter. Stepping through the door it becomes about five degrees cooler, at least. The scarf might not just be to cover his face.

“Sit.”

“Thank you,” you look around for a place to sit. There is only one chair and you look at it for a minute before realizing Amon’s deep icebergs of eyes are looking into your back. You walk to the chair and sit. It’s uncomfortable being the only one sitting and Amon towers over you.

“I guess I shouldn’t tell other Equalists where you live, I’m sure you’d have fanatics at your doorstep,” You attempt to crack a smile and realize that, yes, He can smile despite the burn that covers his face in a diagonal stripe.

“Hey! Even the spirit touched Amon can smile!”

“Yes, he can.” He allows himself a modicum of uncalculated speech. And it’s quite drastic how much a difference it can make. He quickly shifts back to the leader of a revolution and asks you how you’ve been wronged. You two talk for the better part of two hours. The equalists are going to take away all bending they can, only a select few are allowed to keep it if any. Amon is going to highlight you as a source of what imbalance there is between benders and those who are born without the gift.

“So we are going to get my story out?”

“Yes, I believe it has great value to our cause.” Burned lips curve into a larger smile.

“I never thought I’d see this day,” You are aware of the tear that’s in your eye, but this was something you’ve long since dreamed of happening.

You deserve a good few tears.

“I hope that my story can help bring to light the reality of Republic Cities treatment of nonbenders.”

“It will. You will help me to eradicate Republic City of benders.” His voice is water smoothing rocks.

“Is there anything else I can do for the cause?”

“Indulge me in a story,” Amon turns away from where you sit, still inches taller than you as he walks towards a window you didn’t know was there. It’s been covered by a curtain.

“My brother and I grew up years ago, before the Fire Nation wiped our family out.” He takes in a breath. “We has been playing out in the rain, a good omen for a good harvest, when we smelled smoke. My younger brother started to run. I begged him not to go,” You hear another labored breath make it through his nose. “Smoke in the rain only meant one thing.” You both knew what that thing was. “Once I realized that he wasn’t going to come back, I followed him back to our house, tripping in the mud as I ran, desprate to catch up.” You’re aware you’ve shed more than a few tears. “I was too late. My family was gone, Mother and Father died at dinner and My brother had been crushed by a beam on fire. I tried to lift it but it was too much. I couldn’t and it fell on my hands. I leaned down to talk to my brother, but he was already dead. I screamed at the flames, unable to come to terms. I went numb and my face, came away like this.”

Amon turns around for emphasis, sliding the curtain on his window aside.

It’s a full moon.

“I-I’m so sorry,” You wipe a tear only to realize it wasn’t there, it must’ve fallen. “I can’t possibly imagine what that must be like to lose a family. Benders should Pag for what they’ve done. To you, to your family, to anyone.”

“Was it an effective story?”

“W-what?” His blue eyes, cold like the night sky behind him do not blink.

The blood vessels seem angry.

“I take it from your tears that my story was an effective one?”

An orb of water, hovers above his right hand.

Veins bulge from beneath his gloves.

“You’re,” tears should be falling down your face. They’re not. “You’re a waterbender. Let me-“ You’re voice is going dry and you have a good idea of why. “Let me g-” the words stop in your throat which is quickly growing patches of water. A hand moves to claw af your throat to remove the words you’re choking on before it stops midway up to your jugular. Your fingers curve and flex before your whole arm is forced to your side.

“Bloodbender.” He laughs, cruel and deep.

He plays with the orb of water - your tears.

“You look a little parched.” He gives a dark laugh and flicks his wrist again, and your arm twitches uncomfortably as you feel a rush of blood shoot through your body. Your tears move oh so slowly into your forced open mouth.

You can’t even swallow as the liquid your tears that endlessly fill your throat slides down into your stomach.

“I’m glad you offered to help the Equalists. You will be so useful.” His smirk returns, a cruel thing when not hidden by a mask. “I already feel better being able to bloodbend normally.”

He releases your mouth and you shut it closed, the ache in your jaw painfully acute.

“Please- please let me go, I won’t-” Is it better to report the man who is a bloodbender or to let him make all equal? “I won’t report you.”

“You won’t” The moon makes his smile glint. There’s something wrong in it.

“I won’t,” you try to nod but your neck is stuck in a permanent lock.

“You’re staying here with me pet. You’re too fun to let go of.”

--

so guess who got a little carried away? me. it was me. i’m guilty also now i love Amon. (Maybe it’s just his voice also oof... me writing only in clipped sentences oh you bet.) anyway thank you to the requester and thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy!! also thank you to @animetrash420 for uhh beta reading my stuff,.... please ya’ll check her out she does haikyuu fluff and Free! fluff and its,,,, it’s so cute ya’ll

[scrapbook-imagines]

DBD Reunion with S/O

Throughout its existence, the Entity has spectated the suffering of others with sadistic delight. It rarely grew bored of the constant loop of trials between survivors and killers. If It did, It would always add another pair in the mix — or in other cases, just one. The Entity was very familiar with how involving a loved one could create tremendous drama; it was always refreshing to see the killer torn between love and duty—the power imbalance that they previously enjoyed could make them so predictable at times, which does become stale eventually. So, while the Entity could relate in their shared interest of inflicting pain unto others, the killers needed to be reminded that they were also pawns in Its game.

The Huntress (Anna)

Anna’s mother was a very resourceful woman. The wealth gap between the common people and the nobles was becoming ever more drastic and at this rate the only way to avoid poverty was to isolate herself and her child from it all.

However, as Anna was growing up, wearily playing with the carved wooden animals—moving them about in the same way she had the day before— Anna’s mother knew that she was yearning for something that she could not provide for her.

The village Anna’s mother grew up in was not far; in those rare moments of nostalgia she would venture into the town, trading furs for the few vegetables that grew in the icy terrain.

This time, Anna’s mother decided to bring her along. Her mother knew the joy of friendship and now that her friends also had children, she thought it best to introduce Anna to you.

You were the only one closest in age and the first time Anna saw you, you were practicing on the barre

Ballet was such a foreign concept to the young girl; her mother had drilled in no other knowledge of the world besides how to survive. So seeing your leg bend in such a graceful manner— it fascinated her. You reminded her of a doe: lithe and innocent.

“What are you doing?” She asked you, her accent similar to yours, though one peculiarity indicated that she wasn’t from this humble village.

“Practicing.”

“What?”

Did she seriously not know what ballet was? Even the most miserable of peasants knew what it was—not that your family was particularly rich, but your talent was observed from an early age and meant you paid less for your education than others.

“Ballet. It’s a dance. I practice because I want to be one of the best and dance for the Tsar himself.”

You could tell by the awed expression on her face that she would have been content simply watching you but her curiosity and the strangeness of her demeanor made you want to know more about her

“Would you like to dance with me?”

Anna knew nothing of shame, so she eagerly took you up on your offer; ready to learn more about this elusive art form

To say Anna was clumsy would be an understatement. Well, you though, it’s not so much clumsiness as it is brusqueness.

Anna saw her reflection in the only mirror that was long enough for your dancing purposes— and she wasn’t a fan. “I’m no good.”

“It took me lots of practice to be this level, so don’t be mad you can’t move like me yet.”

Despite your words of encouragement, Anna didn’t much like dancing. She had two left feet--poor thing--and she could recognize that her dancing did not compare to yours at all. That being said, whenever the young girl was brought about she would always ask you to dance.

She could watch you for hours but even you would get bored and ask to play something else instead.

Then Anna and her mother didn’t come around anymore.

You wouldn’t know that years later she actually did, but you were already further into your education, which meant you no longer lived in that little town anymore.

You did achieve your goal and danced in one of the most opulent opera houses that Russia could offer; your audience consisted of many noblemen and even the Tsar himself a few times.

Your friend Anna became a distant memory as you were showered with bouquets of flowers, applause, and much praise.

The Great War brought much change to your success; work slowed to a near standstill as resources were now being funneled into the army, leaving luxuries like theater to cease for the moment.

Whether it was patriotism or desperation for getting involved in the war-- you do not remember. However, you do remember losing your squad members in the forest. The fog developed quickly, growing so thick that you needed to feel around to make sure you wouldn’t--

You tripped, falling face first into wet dirt.

You instinctively looked back to see what it was you tripped on, only to feel your stomach drop. It was one of your squad members! You crawled over quickly to inspect them, calling out for the rest of your unit to wait up because someone was hurt.

Your pleas softened into silence when your eyes fell on your comrade’s face, and the deep gash that split his head open and revealed the fleshy insides.

A soft yelp escaped you, and you quickly clasp your hands over your mouth to quiet yourself. His wounds were fresh, that much was obvious. So, even in your panicked state you could tell that the assailant could not have gotten far.

The quiet of the forest was no longer something you could dismiss; the somber atmosphere was now tainted by death and your mind wondered if your other squad members met a similar fate.

Attempting to gather yourself, you quietly yet cautiously continued onward. A soft humming grew louder as you went deeper into the forest. It sounded vaguely familiar, so you tried to approach with caution but her hearing was astute. You could barely make out her figure: a very tall, well-built woman with .. rabbit ears? She lifted her arm and your adrenaline kicked in as you ducked out the way of some sort of projectile and ran away.

__________

When you both entered the realm of the Entity, both of you were clumsy in understanding the rules of the game. This meant that you were able to just barely survive the trial and that neither of you got a good look at one another.

After becoming more prepared, though, there was a noticeable change in the killer you’d come to know as the Huntress. When she’d run out of hatchets trying to down you, she was, of course, extremely livid. She is one of the most competitive killers in the game and her immaturity could almost be heard whenever you drop a pallet on her. So, as she lunged to swing on you, she abruptly paused in the middle of it-- she practically almost tripped on her own feet trying to stop herself!

You didn’t bother to try to figure out what was wrong, so you ran away and hid in a locker-- you were new, how could you have known that you left scratch marks behind? She followed, her movements slow to not alarm you. Just as it seemed she was about to leave the room, she jerked her body to the direction of the locker and opened it.

You let out a startled cry, her hatchet sinking into the wood right next to you, as she grabbed you by the throat. She didn’t pick you up just yet though. She kept you in place, examining you and manipulating you to catch better glimpses of you.

The way you moved and your appearance were all too familiar to the Russian woman. Words were something she no longer had practice in yet with a quiet and scratchy voice she managed to speak your name.

You stared at the woman in the mask, trying to search for anything that would help you indicate who she was and how she knew you. The mask hid her features well and seeing as you hadn’t seen Anna in years so nothing about this was ringing any bells.

Did you dance for the Tsar, she asked slowly in your native tongue.

That’s when the realization hit you and a mischievous little smirk appeared on the Huntress’ face

She pulled you out of the locker and onto a hook.

Like Evan, Anna is unlikely to ignore the rules of the game the Entity has set up. She is very bloodthirsty and you dodging all of her hatchets only serves to further her competitiveness. That being said, she does offer some mercy. For example, she hardly ever kills you (mostly because she can’t catch up but if you ask her it’s because she likes you) and if she notices that you’re left too long on a hook and you’re going to enter second phase or die, she chases another survivor towards your direction and then backs off, allowing them to get you off hook. Unless they’re an absolute dick-- in which case, guess who’s getting the mori?

You aren’t too nice to her either, sometimes. Those hooks are painful and you take on a similar attitude of competitiveness, thinking of this as a childhood game despite its macabre nature. You will always teabag and point at Anna if you are about to leave through the hatch, jumping just as she throws her hatchet right at your head.

Be prepared to be kidnapped from the bonfire a lot by this lumberjill.

You’re the only one who knows what lullaby she’s singing, as your parents sang it to you too, and every once in a while you will sing it for Anna. This is when you see her at her softest.

[brynnmck]

J/B Exchange Recs Round 1!

I have not been around Tumblr much lately because I was so preoccupied with stuff for @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange, but I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I figured what better place to start than with some recs?

These are currently skewed a bit toward my amaaaazing gift fic and the amaaaaazing ones I beta-ed, since I am way behind on my reading, but there will be more to come!

Backpfeifengesicht by @samirant - I am so unbelievably grateful that I had both amazing prompts/amazing recipient for the fic I wrote, and such a fabulous gift fic too. I was still working on my own fic and very sleep-deprived and flagging when I read this for the first time and I think I may have actually left my body on a wave of sheer euphoria. IT IS ALL THE GOOD THINGS. So many of my favorite vacation/road trip tropes--drunken shenanigans! Intimate late-night conversations while everyone else is sleeping/elsewhere! Friends being too involved in your relationship! Unexpected forced proximity! And the banter is glorious, and the secondary characters are so well thought out and add such depth and vibrance to the story, and the Sansa/Margaery subplot was DELIGHTFUL, and I love the way this structured Brienne's relationship to Tyrion and then to Jaime as an extension of that, and the resolution was handled with an absolutely perfect balance of hilarity and heat. (There was also the stuff throughout that was very targeted to me specifically WHICH I APPRECIATED, so thanks to both Sami and @forbiddenfantasies1 for that). About 20% of the way into the story, I was deeply convinced it was Sami, and in the best possible way--it had the hallmarks I love about her writing: her sense of humor, her gift for banter, her clear affection for the characters, the richness of all the relationships. It was like showing up to a party and unexpectedly finding a friend there, and it was the loveliest feeling. I am thrilled that so many people have read and loved this story but I want everyone in the world to read and love it, so. Please check it out if you haven't! And also check out Sami's hilarious tale of woe regarding her writing process, which is amazing. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A PHENOMENAL GIFT SAMI.  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A favorite line: On any other day, Brienne would have left him - a relative stranger - to his wallowing, but an untold amount of imbibed Pentoshi Slammers stirred up a noble benevolence within her, a little voice that said they had something in common and what good were her broad shoulders if they weren’t offered as a place to rest a weary, heartbroken brow? SO GOOD.

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Lay Your Heartbreak and the sequel You could make me feel so good by @ajoblotofjunk / sdwolfpup - LISTEN. SDW sent me an early chunk of this and I was immediately OBSESSED and I have not stopped being obsessed since. Obviously worldbuilding is a huge strength of SDW's and her creativity with that is a constant astonishment to me. But pop culture is full of examples of people who can create amazing worlds and then utterly fail to populate them with interesting or dynamic characters, whereas SDW's ability to fill in those wonderfully creative spaces with her love for the characters and their love for each other that is just magic. And these fics are the perfect examples of that. The setup is not only fascinating but makes for such fantastically INTENSE feelings, omg, everything just feels like it's crackling off the page; even before Jaime and Brienne and Addam are admitting anything to each other, it's not so much simmering under the surface as boiling. The balance between the three of them is gorgeous, there are two incredibly hot fencing scenes as well as a very hot swimming scene (in addition to the sequel being just one big tangle of brain-scorching hotness), there's a perfect amount of sweetness and softness to play off all the blazing heat, and overall this is one that's going to stick with me for a long time. I know J/A/B isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you aren't actively opposed to the idea of them, then I highly highly encourage you to check this out. 

A favorite line: That night she dreams of golden skin, hot and soft against her palm – yes, someone moans, yes – the rough scrape of callouses over the arch of her ribs, the scratch of red stubble between her thighs – like this? Yes, more, please more – legs sliding together and between each other, and two mouths touching her all over. Hnnnnngh.

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The Limit Does Not Exist by @agirlnamedkeith / sameboots - Fics with a power imbalance are something I approach with a lot of caution but I LOVED the way that sameboots handled it here. The fact that this fic includes her signature extremely hot feelings-forward porn as well as a thoughtful exploration of what it can mean to be a woman in STEM is like a beautiful multi-course meal; I cared a LOT about whether they were gonna do it and I was also equally invested in how Brienne’s thesis was going to turn out and where she would go from there. I love Brienne’s stubbornness and determination and even though she’s finding her way here (as you would be, as a grad student), those elements are VERY much on display and they spark fantastically against an initially guarded and caustic but eventually deeply admiring Jaime. And while I don’t want to spoil anything, I will say that I feel like the end is a perfect illustration of one of the major themes of the fic, and I love it so much for that. Watching this one take shape and watching sameboots geek out over her math research was a delight, and the result is excellent (and did I mention, extremely hot). Definitely worth all her work!

A favorite line: “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst liar?” (KIDDING HANNAH ILU HERE’S THE REAL ONE:)  The problem with smoothies was that it was hard to make them aggressively., Angrily pushing a button didn’t have the same release as whaling on a punching bag. Brienne didn’t have a punching bag, though, and she desperately needed to do something, and she was hungry. ANGRY SMOOTHING-MAKING. I LOVE IT.

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Right Off the Bat by @hillaryschu - A You’ve Got Mail AU where Jaime and Brienne are rival Little League coaches who unknowingly bond over Twitter is SUCH a great idea, and Hillary committed to it right down to the delightful rom-com-trailer summary. She also put an enormous amount of care into the details of the story--she had references for outfits, buildings, even Jaime’s cologne--and it shows in all the lush descriptions throughout. The banter is sparky, watching their two relationships gradually unfold is a lot of fun, there’s a particular tipsy (on Brienne’s part) Twitter DM exchange that I still get flustered thinking about, and there’s a batting cage scene that will be haunting my brain for a while. Especially given that Hillary had never written a story anywhere near this long before, I’m so impressed that she pulled it off (and fixed some of the most problematic elements of the movie, too). Congratulations to her on rising to the challenge!

A favorite line: But as they part from each other, Brienne lifts the hem of her tee to wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. Her exposed stomach is pale and toned, with softly defined muscles that gleam with perspiration. Jaime trips over home plate. SAME JAIME. SAME.

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X Marks the Spot (where I’ll find you again) by @pretty--thief - PIRATES. I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I HEARD ABOUT THE PIRATES. And this fic is such a fantastic blend of snappy, exciting swashbuckling (and hilarious use of parrots) and a very poignant backstory that underlays the adventure with all this yeeeeeearning and it’s SO GOOD. The action scenes are thrilling, the descriptions are gorgeous, there is STARGAZING and BATTLE COUPLE, the Jaime snark is chefkiss, Brienne is so brave and committed and quietly full of feelings, there’s a really lovely discussion of the ethics of being in the military, and also Pod and Addam and Arya and PIRATES FOR JUSTICE. SO HERE FOR THAT. And did I mention the yeeeeeearning (which is paid off wonderfully--the penultimate chapter lived rent-free in my mind for about a week after I first read it)? Ugh SO GOOD.

A favorite line: When he had exited his quarters, Brienne had looked at him with so much concern in her eyes it threatened to swallow Jaime whole. He’d felt something similar when he was around Cersei, when they were fucking or fighting; a fire he had once thought he could never tire of, would never want to put out. But Brienne had reached out her hand, as if on reflex, and smoothed her thumb across his tired brow. The ship had continued to sway beneath them, and Jaime didn’t feel fire. He didn’t feel like he would be turned to ash at any moment. He felt a breeze, the wind in his hair and salty air in his lungs. as;lfkja;sldjgas;lfjas;lf 

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Federation Fliers by @elizadunc /Ladybugbear2 - A short and very sweet one! I adore the world that Megs created in this and would happily read many many more words in it, but this is a lovely glimpse in and of itself, and made me so happy. Established relationship (which I love), one of my favorite Jaime nicknames for Brienne, a wonderfully badass Brienne and a wonderfully besotted Jaime, all against a fascinating backdrop. So good!

A favorite line: She belonged in the sky. She had a grace to her movements on the ground, but in the sky she was ethereal. HEART-EYES

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And now for a few that I just read after they were posted like a normal person:

Wine Down by @slipsthrufingers - SOME MILD SPOILERS HEREIN FYI. Okay first of all, the summary of this fic is deliciously evil and I think we all need to appreciate that. Also, it starts out with Jaime and Brienne having lunch together and these glorious descriptions of food and he has taken note of the specific food she likes and is making sure it’s provided for her and that is SO VERY MUCH MY LOVE LANGUAGE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. I FLAILED. And then things go, shall we say, a bit downhill, but in the most achingly beautiful way--Jaime sacrificing himself for Brienne and Brienne determined to tether him to life through sheer force of will and steadfast devotion. Slips puts us right into Brienne’s headspace/heartspace while she’s worrying for Jaime and trying to negotiate the fucked-up Lannister family dynamics (and the observations on said dynamics are wonderful too), and this hits such an excellent balance of Brienne’s rigidly controlled surface and everything that’s roiling away underneath. I’m always fascinated by the idea of what could have happened during the time that Brienne was in King’s Landing and this is such a brilliant exploration of how things could have gone, and Brienne’s interactions with the rest of the Lannisters (and Sansa) give the world that much more depth as well. The descriptions throughout are beautiful, there are so many lovely turns of phrase, the intimacy between Jaime and Brienne is just devastating, and it all comes back around to an immensely satisfying conclusion. SO GOOD. 

A favorite line: The gods had seen fit to give her an unwomanly body, so she had taken up the sword. They had given her an ugly face, so she had perfected her manners and courtesies so they could never be frowned upon. But they had given her a maiden’s heart, and try as she might she had never found the right weapon to protect it. MY PRECIOUS GIRL.

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A Matter of Honor by @nire-the-mithridatist - I shrieked at nire in DMs basically the whole time I was reading this story, it made me experience like 90% of the range of human emotions in one night and I’m still mad about it. This features a fascinatingly flipped script where Brienne is the wealthy one and Jaime the supplicant, and an arrogant-ass supplicant he is. Brienne is an angy baby nineteen-year-old who is furious at the entire world and I fucking adore her for it, and watching all the events unfold through the lens of her (generally well-founded) suspicions was a delicious sort of torture where I trusted NO ONE and genuinely did not know exactly what was going to happen next. Nire turns a lot of marriage fic tropes on their head in this and it’s all done brilliantly, and there is EXTREMELY SEXY SWORD-FIGHTING (and as a sexy bonus, Brienne’s perspective on it feels so perfect for someone who is truly an accomplished swordswoman), and nire uses some common elements throughout to just pack in these layers and layers of meaning and significance, and there are many turns of phrase so perfect that they hurt, and then she’s like “hey would you like to re-feel all the feelings in this story again in a very concentrated burst” and it’s SO MUCH, and the conclusion pays everything off amazingly. And even though it’s very swoony and romantic (and HOT. I SHOULD MENTION VERY HOT), there’s a hint of melancholy to it too, reckoning with what it means to be a woman--even a wealthy one--in Brienne’s world, and it’s just the perfect crunch of salt on top of all the sweetness. LOVE. 

A favorite line: He brought her knuckles to his lips. As sweet as honeyed nettles, he declared, “Lady Brienne. You have made me the happiest of men.” As the crowd roared in approval, she felt the sting of his kiss. STING OF HIS KISS ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Also I’m including this for purely thirsty reasons but NO SHAME: He stood from the sofa and went to help his wife undress, and if she noticed his averted eyes and his trembling hands—oh gods, the laces went on endlessly down her back, and with each pull, a little more of her figure was revealed, barely veiled by her gauzy shift—she said nothing. I DIED. I ALSO SAID NOTHING BECAUSE I WAS DEAD. Fuck, man.

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The Riverlands Gang Go to the Zoo by @naomignome - Another shorter and very delightful one with Naomi’s typical brand of chaotic humor that I adore. It’s Hyle POV, for one thing, which is good times, and the structure of this is so clever--the way each section of the zoo is used to progress the story is so seamless and happy-making, and there are tons of little jokes and Easter eggs packed in along with a very sweet, snarky emotional storyline wherein Hyle is definitely doomed. Plus another EXCELLENT Brienne nickname in here. LOVELY. 

A favorite line: “Pixel!” he said laughingly, “You know if you fell in the bear pit, I would jump after you without a second thought.” “You need to have a first thought in order to have a second one.” Brienne said dryly. SUCH A GOOD BURN.

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all these people think love’s for show (but i would die for you in secret) by @naomignome - This is SUCH A FLEX because not only did Naomi write TWO fics for her recipient but they are WILDLY DIFFERENT and I’m so impressed with her for doing it! This one is SPIEEEEESSSS and Naomi packs so much tension into 5K, I was on the edge of my seat through the whole thing. Canon events are woven in astonishingly well, and it’s a delicious enemies-to-partners-to-lovers situation that involves some excellent hurt/comfort and excellent use of RAIN to moody/sexy effect and it’s just all very thrilling. YUM.

A favorite line: He lets off a single bullet and it grazes the inside of her thigh, enough to make her wince and draw blood, but not enough to stop her from tackling him to the ground and wrestling him into submission. She’s got both of his wrists pinned above his head and her knee is drawn up and pressed against his torso. Jaime’s chest is heaving under her knee. Her chest is heaving in tandem. From above him, Brienne can see the green of his eyes darken, and even in submission, he’s annoyingly beautiful. Her blood is rushing, and it’s not all adrenaline. WHEW. SAME.

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as stars once a year brush the earth by @ylizam / mazily - Another wonderfully bite-sized one (good job actually taking the minimum word count as a guideline, people who did that, unlike the rest of us dumbasses!) that packs a lot into a small space. A canon-ish soulmates AU that’s so understated and dreamy, but with the echo of all the turmoil they’ve gone through to get to this place that brings everything in sharp relief. It’s also funny and sexy and romantic as fuck, and there are gorgeous poetic descriptions, and they spar by a WATERFALL, and just. So much happens in just over 1600 words! IMPRESSIVE.

A favorite line: Her right hand goes numb, unfeeling; back in their rooms Jaime is waking up, and she knows the phantom ache of his missing hand is bothering him. Jaime is waking, and yawning, the bed linens pooling around his waist and highlighting his summer tanned skin. She misses him, suddenly, as wide as the endless sea in front of her. BEAUTIFUL.

OKAY THIS WAS A LONG POST. That’s all I’ve got for now--more to come as I continue my reading!!