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astaraels · 1 month

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You just gave me a prompt idea. Pride and prejudice but gallavich??????? If you would be so kind as to indulge me with a ficlet I would love you most ardently 🥺

Okay so anon you're in luck that I've been rereading a lot of my queer historical romance so if you'll pardon me the indulgence, I'm gonna have so much fun with this. You're gonna get a ficlet AND a whole lot of world building, so buckle up, m'dear 😘

(tagging @callivich and @holymurdock since they both cheered me on with this one, y'all're the best~)

———

Ian and his brother stood in the corner of the room, each of them with a drink in hand and feeling marvelously out of place. At least, Ian certainly did—he wasn't sure how he ended up being dragged along to a soirée like this, but his little sister had begged and pleaded because "if nothing else I'll need someone to dance with, and you're so much better at it than Phillip." The row that had started lasted them until Fiona bustled them all off for morning chores. Everyone had to pitch in at the estate, except for Liam, of course.

He took another swig of the cloying champagne, hiding his grimace; he'd rather be drinking a decent stout at the village tavern. Everyone minded their own business there; here, it was as if one's presence was all anyone needed to justify striking up a conversation. There were more unfamiliar faces than he'd expected at this party, although it was crowded enough that he felt safe to let his eyes wander a little.

The dance floor was positively flooded with young men and women, smiling pleasantly at each other as they tried to converse through the steps of a lively quadrille. Both of his sisters had been claimed for a dance; Deborah looked positively thrilled, while Fiona seemed as if she'd prefer to be somewhere else. Ian couldn't help but laugh when he saw how enthusiastic Fiona's partner was compared to her own bland smile. At the very least, their family had to keep up appearances, what with their father's reputation.

A young woman in a pale purple dress walked past them, her matching gloves strangely pushed down her arms until they bunched up at her wrists. When Ian looked again, he realized it was the same girl who'd asked him for a dance earlier, but he'd had to turn down—politely, of course—although he was quite impressed by her approaching him. Not many young gentry ladies would be willing to break convention in such a way. A shame Ian felt nothing for the fairer sex; she might have been someone he could have made a match with.

He watched with passive interest as the girl dispersed into the crowd, letting his gaze follow various other party goers as they engaged in conversation or found new partners for the dancing. Just another country party for eligible young people to meet, after all; there wasn't much else in the way of distractions, unfortunately—not even a room where men might play at cards. That had come as a disappointment for Ian. He'd been teaching the younger ones, and Deborah in particular had quite the knack for it. She might have been all of fifteen, but were young ladies allowed into the gambling hells that Ian and Phillip frequented, she'd clear them all out in a night.

Ian was still amusing himself with the image of his young sister taking the coats off of gentlemen's backs to pay off debts of honor, when he heard an angry voice call out from the crowd.

"Oy, you! Gallagher! You damned blackguard! That's right, I've some goddamn words for you, you piece of shite!"

Several of the ladies nearby gasped at the language; Ian, who had learned worse from the Army men stationed in the village, only looked up at the man advancing on him and set his glass to the side. He stuck his chin out stubbornly and crossed his arms, using his height to his advantage.

"There's quite a number of Gallaghers here," he said. "You might need to be more specific."

"I'm talkin' about you, bloody ginger bastard! You tried takin' advantages with my sister!" The man's accent was rougher than his language, which was almost impressive. He cracked his knuckles, and Ian could see the distinctive blue ink of tattoos peeking out from under the man's coat sleeves. "You admit what you did, and maybe I won't have to drag your apology out your mouth along with your back teeth!"

"I did nothing of the sort," Ian said, immediately putting his back up. Next to him, Phillip set his drink down on a table close by, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ian in a show of brotherly solidarity. "A young lady requested a dance from me earlier. I declined, but I said nothing insulting, much less took advantage."

The girl in question stood behind her brother; they were both quite striking, with pale skin and dark features, and the brother's intense blue eyes caught Ian off-guard. He regained his composure quickly, however, determined not to let himself be caught on the back foot by some do-nothing rogue. He's only defending his sister, a voice said in the back of Ian's mind. You'd do the same for yours. Which was true, but he might at least pull the offender to one side instead of starting a confrontation such as this.

"You callin' my sister a liar, are you?" the man said loudly, which only made the sister scowl at Ian. His face burned hot at the offense—he'd turned down a dance, for heaven's sake, not besmirched her virtue. "In that case-" he took two steps forward and punched Ian square in the jaw. "Come near her again and it'll be a bloody pistol next time!"

"Oy!" Ian shouted, blood suddenly boiling. It was one thing to put off insults to his character, but this was a step too far. He moved forward until he was in the brute's face, and damn his eyes because they were indeed far too good-looking than a man like this deserved. It only served to make him angrier. "I will not stand by and let you continue to speak lies!" He knew this was an idiotic idea, but sometimes one had to do very stupid things and apologize for them later.

The shorter man nodded, looking as if he were sizing Ian up. "Right, then," he said, voice rougher than Ian had expected, and damn if it wasn't a sound that hit him in the best—worst—way. "Outside with you. We settle this here and now."

Phillip finally deigned to step in, putting an arm out to push in front of Ian. "This is a party," he said, in that condescending voice of his that set Ian's teeth on edge. "I'm sure our hosts wouldn't appreciate a fight between guests as a way to end the evening, lively as it might be."

The dark-haired man started to speak, but his sister reached out and grabbed his arm. She spoke in a low voice, low enough for only her brother's ears, and then he turned back to Ian. "This is your one and only warning, then, Gallagher," he practically spat. "Next time we meet you won't be so lucky. Or have your brother to take your lumps for you."

Ian moved forward into the other man's space, using his greater height to crowd him in. "There won't be a next time," he said through gritted teeth. "If I never see you again in my life, I'll count myself damn lucky. But if I do, you'd best hope we're in decent company, or we'll see who's a quicker shot."

——————————————————————

(And here's the world building, under a cut because it got really long)

So the Gallaghers are in the business of coal (because that was a Big Deal at the time, finding coal deposits with the Industrial Era making a big wave) because their great grandparents came from Ireland and established themselves in England. Frank is a wily bastard with a nose to ferret out how to steal shit from under people's noses, so he's a master scam artist but has to move around constantly to run different schemes so the Gallaghers rarely see him. Monica is dead, either in childbirth when she had Liam or from taking too much laudanum.

Fiona, being the eldest, has to get them all presentable to Society and keep up maintaining the house and property along with Lip. They'd likely be at least lower gentry, so they've got land and a few servants, but they're not tenant farmers. Lip may be the one who gets to inherit but everyone knows Fiona is in charge of the household. (p&p fans, I'm imagining them in a similar situation as the Bennets—things aren't great but they're doing their best.)

The Milkoviches immigrated from the Russian empire probably either during the reign of Empress Elizabeth or Tsar Peter III (just before Catherine the Great), and they're still considered outsiders due to their heritage, but Mickey has worked hard to get Mandy a Season so she might make a good marriage and thus have a good life. Mickey makes his money off of wealthier men because he's damn good at gambling and wins a great deal of money playing cards.

As in the ficlet, Ian and Mickey ofc meet ugly like in canon, and they'd have a few run-ins until Mandy and Ian come to an understanding, which is when she tells Mickey to apologize to Ian (he's just trying to stand up for his sister's honor, okay, it's not his fault she keeps changing her mind!)

Also there are ~lingering looks~ and ~fingertips brushing~ against each other when they finally shake hands and call it a truce after getting into a few dust ups. After they do so, Ian thinks hmm and starts to like, seek out Mickey when they're at the tavern in the village or society gatherings for the gentry, and he's pretty certain that they share the same "proclivities" and it all comes to a head when they get into a heated discussion and Ian ends up shoving him against a wall and notices how Mickey reacts and then they fuck nasty in an empty room, but Mickey says not to kiss him, because that's something ladies expect and he's anything but.

Ian ofc is disappointed but at least he feels smug about being right, even if Mickey still calls him a damn Irish bastard and Ian shoots back that he's some Muscovite imbecile (Muscovite being what they used to call people from Russia ofc because I'm pretty sure Ukraine wasn't even on a map at this time in history), but yet they still seek each other out for ~assignations~ while constantly sniping at each other to the point where their rivalry becomes well known in Society. Rivals to lovers is delightful, I can't help it!

They play at hating each other in public but behind closed doors they're fucking nasty and Ian absolutely gets swept off his feet. Mickey does too, obviously, but he has to hide his feelings so Ian doesn't get too attached and ruin a good thing. (Spoiler alert: this fails miserably.) Terry Milkovich, by the by, is currently rotting in debtors' prison awaiting transportation to Australia and good fucking riddance to him (sorry aussies!).

I also love the idea of Debbie wanting to mix in Society and Fiona trying to run the Gallagher estate (which may not be a large one but it's their home) and Carl having dreams of joining the army—Ian wanted to as well but he probably had to stay home and take care of the younger ones, and it's not like he's going to make a Society marriage, anyway. Also Debbie thinks she wants a season to get a husband but ends up being like 👀 at all the fine young ladies—I also just love the idea that she's great at cards from playing with her brothers and learning how to fuzz the cards 🤣

Ian still has bipolar disorder in this au—it's a family secret. Whenever he starts to have an episode—by this point they all recognize the signs—he stays at home and the siblings just say he has a "weak constitution" and ofc he knows the staff gossip about him but better than being sent off to a sanitorium and away from his family. And he hates not being able to control his own mind but his siblings love him and they all promise to take care of him no matter what (it's why he never got to join the army like he'd hoped for, but he still helps Carl learn how to use a rifle, and practice drilling, and all that such like).

This kind of got away from me and I don't have a solid concept beyond all of...this. I know you asked for p&p, anon, so I tried to at least keep to the spirit of the thing, and I hope you like it regardless?? <3 I'd love to hear what other people think about this one, so please share your thoughts!

Eventually there would be, y'know, plot—probably something to do with land inheritance, Frank scamming people and it coming back to bite the Gallaghers in the ass, and both Lip and Debbie end up finding out about Ian and Mickey; Ian would have a bipolar episode and instead of running away, Mickey gets worried about him and is like, oh no I'm having feelings this is Not Good, but at this point he knows he's in too deep. Also he and Ian will have to work together for some reason or another and put their public rivalry to bed (lol).

#gallavich #leinth answers #leinth writes fic #p&p au #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless fic #shameless #yes I gave mickey tattoos I figure he hung out with a bunch of sailors at some point and wanted his own ink

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golden28s · 5 months

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sometimes I just wanna have a book about ians whole life from his childhood to adulthood with description of his thoughts and tons of meta, about all his traumas, about his relationship with his family and mickey. i need to know his character on a spiritual level, hes so precious to me

im especially interested in ians childhood, he was a lost child who wasn't given proper attention, who was raised by a kid because Fiona was just a girl when he was little and they all needed good parents but frank and monica didn't gave a shit. and he was literally the only one frank beat up and how he was emotionally abused by monica??? It hurts how it all affected him as he grew up.

i totally agree and feel the same. i think ian is a very complex character and there's so much depth to it, he's really quiet when it comes to process emotional and stuff and really tries to do that alone almost like he think no one has to time to listen to him. that's why, like you said, would be interesting to see how he was as a kid, when that quiet way of processing and feeling started and when he gave up on trying to get attention to communicate and ask for help.

i would love to know if he always felt so disconnected from frank, if he always felt like he had something against him, if he knew he was his less favorite and how that made him feel and what part of his personality and personal growth was affected by that. i dont know, it seems to me that a lot of things about ian could be explained by his childhood too, things like the total horror that was the possibility of becoming his mum.

he's a very complex character and having the full picture would be awesome.

#yes i finally answered to this sorry #gallavich #shameless #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #anon ask

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cryingforcrocodiles · 11 months

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getting all my oil club jokes in while i possibly can this night

#yes i will shit on city for having too much cash yes i am aware of my club's current happenings yes i am shameless n yes im not happy #to answer all the questions here.#also finally back onn hiii #i had to take a step back i felt hate in my heart n it was Pounding n i did not like it (i saw one of the city portuguese faces)#gen.txt

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toxicrevolver · 6 months

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Thanks for the tag!!!! @serendipminie

Last song: Gasoline by Key (of SHINee) is there another Key?? Idk

Last Movie: Elemental

Currently Reading: I don’t read physical books but I’m about to start reading what’s one more? (bad decision) by @loveable-sea-lemon over on AO3. They just posted it today and I love their writing. I will be reading all of their kinnporsche fics eventually. Nothing will stop me (unless the author deletes something) UPDATE. READ IT. SCREAMING. CAN’T WAIT FOR CHAPTER TWO.

Currently Watching: Shameless (U.S.) and The Devils Plan (both are on Netflix for me)

Current Obsession: NCT (yes all of NCT. it’s an ongoing problem. Especially with the new subunit debuting. The toddlers are hard to differentiate) hopefully I can get my brain to switch to Kingdom (AND FINALLY LEARN WHO’S WHO) and E’last bcs new albums. But who knows. WayV is dropping an album at the start of November so I might be stuck on NCT for a while.

I’m not gonna tag anyone bcs I’m a loser. If anyone wants to participate tho don’t hesitate to blame me as the reason!

#tag game #about the weirdo who runs this blog #hi my wonhyuk friend!!!#obsidian rambles #yes I’m watching two shows which isn’t common but I need brain power to watch The Devils Plan bcs subtitles and game rules #brain power isn’t needed to Shameless so it’s good when I can’t sleep but I have no power for subtitles #to watch shameless*#never hesitate to tag me in tag games I love them #the NCT brain rot is so bad. I’m pretty sure I’ve answered NCT as obsession for the past month AT LEAST

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sesshy380 · 1 year

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Didn't really sleep, but the eye rest helped with some of the pressure in my brain.

Been reading over my one-shots just because they are familiar and I don't have to focus on trying to absorb the words. Forgot how entertaining my 'Talking with Myself' series is. It was something I'd started during one of those chapters where the characters weren't playing nice with the plot (you know how they can get).

I add to it from time-to-time. Snippet from part 1.

[Yami Bakura sitting in random white space, giddily scribbling on a piece of paper with a red crayon]

Dear Author,

I have marked several points in your plot where I can kill the Pharaoh things can be improved.

Sincerely, Murder Fluff

P.S. What’s up with that bullshit nickname? I get the ‘Murder’ part, but ‘Fluff’??? Unless you are referring to the mass of white on my head, there is nothing ‘Fluff’ about me.

P.P.S. I need more red crayons. One in a pack is not enough. Like, can’t you buy a whole pack of JUST red crayons on Amazon or something? Seriously, more RED.

#writer things #the answer to the 'just red crayons' is yes #i think every writer can relate this little series #is this a shameless self-promo because i am still feeling mildly like crap?#maybe...

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drunktuesdays · 1 year

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will we ever see those aforementioned juicy asks? 👀

did you like the one i just published

#real answer: yes #i checked off almost everything on my to-do list for vacation #and i wanna answer at least one ask in genuine detail #the candidates being a4a actual engagement for slap #a4a bottom eddie #the ask about my dustjim shameless au #a maia/csevet ask for angryonabus #and the ask about body horror #so look out for that

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navree · 1 year

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Hey, hope you’ve been good!

I just finished reading your HOTD fics and I wanted to say that I really enjoy your writing. Spring’s End is my favorite, but Gods In Godless Times was a fun read (I’m weak for modern aus, like, if you have any modern au Green thoughts/headcanons-whether they’re related to your au or not-pls share, cause I’ll eat them up).

Would That They Were Not was also a good read. I really liked that Alicent was the one who ordered the dragons to burn Jahaerys’s body per the Targ tradition. And Aegon’s grief was 🤌

Thanks :)

Anon this was so nice to wake up to thank you so much!!!! You're so sweet, I'm glad you liked it all so much, these were all actually quite fun to write and I'm really happy that people are taking the time to let me know that they enjoy the, I really really really appreciate it.

Making Alicent be the one to burn Jaehaerys's body was very intentional of me, mostly because I always wanna refute the idea that her kids aren't "true Targs" just because of her, and to also show how close knit the entire family is and how that extends even to the dragon bonds, that they'll listen to her in that moment because of what she means to their riders. Aegon's grief was particularly gut wrenching to write, but I really wanted to sell just what an unexpected evil it was that happened to him give Aemond an extra gut punch to see his older brother so affected by the consequences of his (unintentional) actions.

I won't say too much because I do have a lot of chapters planned for Gods in Godless Times where I'm dumping most of these headcanons, and I do fully intend to get back to this fic, it's just that right now I'm taking two science classes (and I'm not scientifically inclined) as well as working on submitting applications to transfer into a four year college, which is taking up a lot of my free time. And I've also got a few one shot drafts for some other fandoms (mostly TMA and W359) that have been languishing for a while that I'm trying to finish and send off into the world.

But with all that being said, some headcanons include: -Daeron is a chaos gremlin of a kid. He's the youngest of four (five, technically if you count Rhaenyra) and this is a high pressure lifestyle, but also just personality wise he's bouncing off the walls and causing problems on purpose and being a lil whippersnapper, but still precious. -Aegon isn't entirely sure if he finds Alys really cool or still creepy (and yes I've aged her way the hell down but in the real world you cannot have a teenager in a relationship with a woman in her late thirties/early forties, you just can't, so that's why she's instead Helaena's friend and therefore her age instead) -Helaena was actually pretty chill when Aemond and Alys started dating, she likes that her lil brother is coming out of his shell and she thinks Alys is neat too anyway -Helaena is still Otto's favorite grandkid, and he Will go to town on any teachers who try and say she should focus more during school -Alicent isn't necessarily a typical PTA mom because a) idk if they've got that in the UK and b) the family position doesn't necessarily give her an opportunity for it, but she's still incredibly involved not just in the kids' personal lives but also in their schooling -Daemon is a family friend who is incredibly close to Viserys and practically grew up with him and who's one of those "honorary uncle" types, rather than Viserys's out and out brother -Viserys isn't infirm, just constantly sick due to age and bad health but still capable of having a job (not sure if I've mentioned this yet but Viserys is both a lord/peer as well as the current President of the Supreme Court in the UK) -Spoilers for the next chapter but the Starks are a prominent American political family and the Northerners are mostly American politicos/East Coast wealth, to parallel how the North in Westeros is far away and culturally removed from most of the country -The general conceit of this world is that certain elements of Westeros are in our world, things like the Free Cities being cities in Western Europe (Myr and Lys for me are specifically in France) and Dorne being some kind of wine country à la Napa or Bordeaux -Helaena wants to study biology and engineering, bugs aren't just a special interest for her but she's genuinely interested in how they and most stuff works -Aemond did, in fact, lose an eye in an accident involving his Strong nephews (it will be discussed) and he does have a lot of issues about it, though he's being slowly convinced by his family and Alys to maybe see someone about it -Rhaenyra is incredibly more distant in this, she's got her own family and the relationship was irreparably fractured almost worse than it was in the show after Aemond's accident -Aemond cannot cook. Helaena is passable. Aegon is actually very good cook -Helaena tries out all possible new hairstyles on Aemond, it's almost rare to see him with his hair loose rather than in some elaborate do Helaena was trying out -Aemond still has his long silky hair in this. People who give Aemond short hair in their modern aus are cowards I said what I said -All the Greens dragons are cats. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre and Tessarion are just normal cats, Vhagar is an old alley cat Aemond picked up at a shelter (it will be elaborated on) and who is incredibly protective of and fiercely cuddly for him and him only -Obviously, but the Greens have a much better and extremely more tight knit relationship in this than they do in show canon. They're incredibly ride or die for each other

Also this counts for the modern AU but is also true of basically all my Greens fics, the Green kids refer to Alicent almost exclusively as "momma", no matter what age or level of maturity.

And for anyone curious:

Spring's End: an Alicent centric fic written after episode 2 exploring Alicent's state of mind in the lead up to her wedding with Viserys and how she struggles to adapt to her new role as queen to be and Viserys's future wife/mother of his children. Warnings for Alicent's spiraling mental health, implied child abuse/CSA/grooming (Alicent is FIFTEEN and Paddy filmed this while in his fifties with Viserys's age unconfirmed she's a child I hate Viserys so much)

Mea Maxima Culpa: ficlet from Aemond's perspective set immediately after episode 10 as he tells the Small Council what happened at Storm's End.

Would That They Were Not: speculative fic on how the show might adapt Blood and Cheese and its immediate aftermath, Aemond and Alicent centric and told from their perspective, and as always, Greens sympathetic. Warnings for child death and spoilers for what's going to be a pretty big plot in season 2 if you haven't read the book and don't know what Blood and Cheese is.

Gods In Godless Times: multi chapter fic of unconnected stories about the Dance-era Targaryens in a modern AU, specifically modern day UK where the Targaryens are a longstanding noble family and Viserys is both a peer of the realm and the current President of the Supreme Court and most of the noble houses of Westeros are media moguls, Fortune 500 companies, politicians, and other upper echelons of society. Primarily focused on the Greens kids, but is planned to have chapter stories focusing on adults, "allies" of the Greens, and some members of Team Blacks and their "allies" as well.

#personal #answered #anonymous #team green #the greens #fic recs #yes i'm adding in some shameless self promo but i think i deserve some love i have to do College Applications #and also my tummy hurts :(#but seriously anon this is such a nice thing to send i love u so much

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gardenerian · 2 years

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You’re never ever mean 💖🥰 Can I just ask when you say you don’t care about specific plots and storylines from s11 (or any season) is it because you don’t mind them/don’t see the big deal or because it’s so stupid and out of left field that you can’t justify it and it’s easy to fix. I’m always seeing people say they don’t care and there could be worse plots/ have been worse plots but i can never tell if that means they side with it or laugh at it because the show already was bad at that point.

i’m glad i don’t sound mean bc it’s really not my intention to invalidate the ways people interact with this show. that’s not my job here 😅

the minutiae of those s11 plotlines - they are just not interesting to me. sure, they don’t make sense. they also just. don’t matter to me. there was plenty for me to get up in arms about while the season was airing, but now that i’ve had time to think about it… i just don’t care.

and it’s hard for me to tease out exactly why. these just are not the hills on which i wish to die. not saying i didn’t mind them (although in some cases i didn’t, at least not as much?), i just simply do not care. i don’t wish to dissect them any further, it’s just not interesting or fun for me. and at this point i kinda find it needlessly divisive? maybe people are still feeling jaded, and i get that, but these conversations can get so unpleasant.

what still gets me is that the overall experience just wasn’t very entertaining. the pacing was bad. the stakes didn’t make any sense, and there was no cohesion. it just felt like such a letdown after so many years of solidly good tv. the little intricacies of the plotlines don’t bother me - they’re not worth the headache, in my opinion.

now - i am obviously a massive hypocrite bc i can still go OFF on gay jesus or meta the crap out of other moments. but! the difference there is that i still find it interesting and ultimately worthwhile (for me) to do so. there is still so much i’d like to think about and talk about.

the experience is what you make it. in the long run, everyone is okay. there were some strong moments and strong performances. the season gave us just enough material to build a fuckin lifetime of headcanons, post-canon fics, and AU inspo. (and yes, i do think there could have been worse plots… but god, can you imagine?)

anyways. i do not mean to be dismissive. i’d just rather focus my energy on more enjoyable things!

#did i think certain plotlines were bad? yes.#did i also not think they were the end of the fuckin world? also yes.#talking about s11 like this just kinda fries my brain #i still want to ENJOY shameless ya know #mel answers

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heymrspatel · 7 months

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Julissa!!! I’m obsessed with your latest art! 💖💖💖💖 I have to ask - did you have a backstory in mind as you drew it? Like, did Ian buy it because he thought Mickey would look good in it and surprise Mickey with it? Or did they both get the idea in their heads and go online shopping? Or did Mickey want to try it out and just surprise Ian out of nowhere?

calli! hi calli!! thank you so much 🥹 now you know i always have my own little stories going on for everything i do heehee! so!

mickey bought it after seeing ian eyeing a similar one on one of their fun shopping trips. one second they're being silly looking at toys, the next ian is thumbing through the delicate panes of flowers on a garter. "i bet something like this would look and feel amazing on your skin, mick". mickey scoffed and grumbled his way out of the aisle, waving their chosen toy above his head on the way to the register. ian immediately following. unable to resist the giddy bounce of mickey's eyebrows. that tongue poking out. smacking his ass on the way out of the store.

but, mickey - he went back.

he went back and really looked through them. scrunching his nose at ones he thought were gaudy. twisting his mouth at others that didn't have enough oomph. but this one. this one with the scalloped edges and curves that look like stain glass windows. with little leaves and flowers, like the ones ian tends to every day. black for his pale skin. soft, it's so soft. a stretchy garter belt, perfect for a little snap! the see through meshy hips on silky underwear. for the tease, for the feel. all of it scratching that sensory itch. yea. yea, this one.

they've had it for a while now. ian losing his mind everytime mickey suggests wearing it. because he does. he loves it! he loves how it feels and he love how HE feels. soft, warm, sensual. hot, sexy, strong. the lace accentuating his waist, his thick thighs. it leads to all sorts of sensory play, how could it not! it's how they find themselves here now. lace whispering on skin so cold from the ice, so hot from ian's body. ian's icey fingertips tracing a goosebumpy trail, while his palms melt and heal. mickey's being so good! and if he holds on just a little longer he'll be all warm soon.

#don't look at this too hard. ok thank you!!!!#chances are if you ask me if i have a story the answer is yes lol!#calli thank you so much for dropping by! you're always so supportive and wonderful and i appreciate you!!!#callivich #asks #shameless #gallavich #j ramble drabbles

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nellycanwrite · 1 year

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Hey bae I have a new account (previously w0niecult) and wanted to ask if you could tag me on this account once part three of your Attuma fic is out👉👈tyyy👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🤍🤍

OMG YES OF COURSE BESTIE! And I didn't see this because I was so busy oh my gosh EEEEE But I've posted the Fic Preview of Part 3 YAYAYAYAY! Find it here here here!

#nelly answered #nelly talks #attuma x reader #yes this is also a shameless plug under this tag HAHAHAHA

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lucrezia-thoughts · 1 year

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🥵 Few days later, Wills mom is gone, and they are finally alone. He loose no time to lift his fiance up, rushing into the bedroom to have some sweet love making. Round 1 then round 2, taking a break to cuddle before doing round 3. Both of them over the moon, and satisfied, Will kissing her head over and over, his heart full of love 💕 THE END 🎉 another short one 🥺

Variety is the spice of life, love!! 💚 not every story can be as long as Les Misérables!!

#lucrezia answers #hi friend!!#i 💚you #and so does neville nugget #🥵 anon #incredible 🥵 anon #is this a shameless reason to use an enjolras gif?#yes... yes it is #i will always love enjolras

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mukamibabe · 2 years

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hi friends ❤️

#mun post #i honestly thought about reorganizing this blog but.. thats too much work lol #anyways. bless you all honestly i say this everytime i leave and then reappear but.. i appreciate you guys so much #educate me on anything new with dl if any #and also. go ahead and send in requests maybe??#i realllly want to write again and yes i could finish some of my drafts + answer other ancient asks but.. theyre ancient #i may or may not be posting a rules thing too but idk #i have a couple of old works that i wrote for my own pleasure and never finished or posted so those might be posted too idk #dont take my word for any of this #also!!!! tell me about your ocs!!! please !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will get on my knees seriously jdfhjhgd #i still have my current ocs but. i wiped that blog clean #asdfh shameless self promo but: @cordeliasgirlfriend #anyways rip im anxious but ily guys mwah mwah

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peapod20001 · 2 years

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This is gonna be my most controversial pea oc take yet (/lh) but like. You know when you see a character and you get the vibe that after a couple years of egging they’re gonna be using she/her in some form? Like Marco Diaz energy? Actually I’m not even gonna explain myself first here’s the take

he just has that crying because hes too deppressed to shave, constantly hunched into a hoodie because he cant stand her form, and felt like his world exploded the first time she put on a skirt energy, don’t @ me

@everyothermouse , I like your take/gen

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tawnfawn · 4 months

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intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead.

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons.

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?”

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

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