I can't beleive they're actually going the slow burn route with Debbie & Nolan. I'm not watching them degrade her & see her lose all self respect in another 1-2 seasons. I'm so sick & tired of men writing themselves getting away with anything & everything.
"It's realistic" is not the argument you think it is. Saying irl women all over the world are also conditioned to be doormats for men & taught to take their abuse dutifully, silently, and with the an amount of empathy never shown back to them is precisely why it's so important that girls & women everywhere have examples of themselves choosing better! Of choosing themselves! Of choosing self respect AND happiness!!
I'm so tired of the conversation being "But he deserves a second chance!" when it SHOULD be " But she deserves better!"
Fuck this show.
I'm out before having to witness the writers absolutely humiliate Debbie.
R.I.P. you'll forever remain a bad bitch who stood on business in my memory 💔.
HAI!! Can you draw a doodle of Mohawks piercings in WLTDO? (Totally asking this for no reasons at all…)
Omg!! :') Guys I can't draw, lol. Sorry to stunt the horniness.
Buuuut, here's the list that I refer to when I wanna write him:
Collarbone piercings
Nipple piercings
Lip piercings (snake bites + two bottom lip hoops)
Both eyebrows
Nose bridge
Standard ear piercing + couple helixes.
Jacob's ladder
Also, I think he has a tongue piercing??? I don't remember. I wrote some sort of kissing scene and there was something cold i dont remember if they were his bajillion lip piercings or a tongue one. Umm
I have a piercings fetish, for sure. He'd have somewhere between 18-22 piercings?? Kind of???
Pairing | Soldier Boy x reader
Summary | Your favorite pastime might be pushing Ben's buttons. Why wouldn't it be when the punishment afterward is too tempting to resist?
Warnings/tags | No spoilers for season five, MDNI (18+), established relationship, porn without plot, smut, doggystyle, manhandling, marking, biting, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, edging, smoking during sex, pet names (angel baby, angel, good girl, pretty girl), no use of y/n
Word Count | 1.2k
A/N | took one look at soldier boy in season five and wrote this immediately...can you blame me?? fucknsoabfbehjas...i also barely proofread, so i'm sorry for any mistakes
divider credit: @/andromeda-graphics
The sheets twisted in your grasp, your knuckles white with tension as you held on for dear life. The fingers firmly planted on your hips curled instinctively, gripping with a strength that would surely leave behind a mark. Ben's hips snapped forward relentlessly, eliciting a bubbling sob from your throat.
"Oh, angel baby," he rasped in that slightly condescending voice that drove you wild. "Ya sound so fuckin' sweet. Ya like gettin' split open on my cock?"
No words came. No matter how hard you tried, any noise that left your lips was either half words or broken moans.
How could you answer when your mind was blank? You were completely lost, utterly drunk on pleasure. Your neck whipped back, your face towards the ceiling as the knot in your stomach pulled taut. Releasing your hold on the pale sheets, you reached for his hand on your hip. You weren't even sure why; you just needed to feel his skin beneath your greedy fingertips.
"You poor, needy lil' thing," Ben tutted, and you could hear the smirk in his tone. "Can't even talk, can ya? That mean you're close?"
You nodded frantically, whimpering every time he managed to deepen his thrusts. "That so?" he hummed lowly.
Then, too quickly, everything came to an abrupt stop. Your cunt clamped down around his dick at the loss of that heavenly penetration. Your hands found purchase back in the covers, clutching them with impatience. The once-building pleasure soured in your gut, leaving you a blubbering mess.
"Quit your whinin'," he scolded. One of his massive palms flattened between your shoulder blades, forcing you down. You folded without another thought, falling forward until your back was arched, ass up, with your chest flush to the mattress.
"There's my good girl," he praised, brushing his knuckles over your spine in gentle strokes. As his heated lips found your flesh, you trembled from the light contact. "Where was she earlier when you were bein' a fuckin' brat, and startin' shit with me?"
He left a trail of kisses down your spine, each kiss more scorching than the last. Leaning back, he scanned your body language, stiffened posture, but otherwise relatively compliant. Before you could blink, a smack landed on your ass. You jolted with a squeal, the sound reverberating off the walls of your cramped apartment. It wasn't to hurt you, but rather to capture your attention.
"I asked you a question." His voice was a deep growl, not angry, just annoyed from your lack of response. "Did I fuck ya stupid, pretty girl? 'Cause if you're wantin' to give me the silent treatment, I have a few ideas for that mouth'o yours."
"I said I was sorry, Benny," you said, turning your head against the mattress so you could see the supe from the corner of your eye. You watched the bead of sweat drip down his temple before taking in his unreadable expression. A stubborn piece of hair hung in his eyes, and it made you think of the many times that you'd brush those same dark strands from his vision to kiss the creased space between his brows. That rough exterior would soften ever so slightly any time you did that; you took pride in that.
But you knew you were in too deep to crack that solid shell of his—none of your gentle touches or velvety words would dig you out of this hole.
Yet, your determination wouldn't allow you to give up trying.
"Why did you stop, baby?" you purred, soft and sultry, wiggling your ass in that tantalizing way he liked.
He chuckled darkly, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing aggressively. "Try all ya like, but I already told ya, you're not coming 'til I say so."
Gripping your hips harshly, he steadied you once more, positioning you how he wanted. "Stay just like that. Lemme look at ya." he pulled back, his arms falling to his sides before he reached over to the bedside table. The pack of Marlboros and olive lighter were plucked off the surface. He eagerly extracted a cigarette and stuck it between his lips.
"Fuck, love seein' that cute lil' ass like that," He muttered around the unlit, white stick. You felt a single digit graze your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. "It's even turnin' red right 'ere. Didn't even spank ya that hard. Guess I gotta be more careful with ya. Ain't that right, angel?"
Shaking your head, you batted your lashes innocently, though you were anything but. "No, I deserve it."
He tilted his head curiously, then flicked the lighter. It sparked to life on the second attempt, and he lifted the flame to his lips until the end of the cigarette ignited. Breathing the smoke in steadily, his eyelashes fluttered closed, content.
Intense eyes met yours again as he pulled the cigarette away. "Ya damn right," he agreed, the smoke swirling in front of his face and obstructing his features momentarily. When the clouds cleared, you saw the corners of his lips lift into a sinful smile.
He rolled his hips into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your cunt clenched as you choked out a groan. "That pussy's just begging for relief, huh? " You wanna come?" he asked arrogantly.
"Please, Benny," you begged shamelessly. "Let me come all over your cock, please. I'll be good. I'll be so good. Promise."
Releasing a low, proud hum, he leaned forward. Ben pressed a kiss right below your shoulder blade, sweet and tender. His mouth opened directly after, baring his teeth, before sinking them into your flesh. Surprised by the sudden aggression, you hissed, your fingers curling into the fabric at your sides.
He freed you from his teeth, leaving small indents where each tooth had dug in. His tongue darted out, licking away the sting. "Oh, I know ya will, angel."
Straightening his spine, he placed the smoldering Marlboro back in his mouth. One of his palms pressed into your skull, pinning you in place. It practically covered the entirety of the side of your face, his fingers splayed so he could still see those glittering eyes.
His opposite hand came down, securing your forearm and hooking it behind your back to restrain you. He stretched your arm closer to your upper back, just until you could feel the ache, as if he was demonstrating how much power he had over you.
The slow retreating of his hips had let you feel every inch of his thick cock, sliding against your fluttering walls. Ben pulled out until just the tip stretched your weeping hole. Impatience gnawed at you. He knew what he was doing; he always did. He liked to see how far he could go until you eventually broke. Until you were whining and whimpering beneath him.
Without warning, he slammed back into you. The sound of skin against skin echoed in your skull. You cried out, your muscles tensing under him. He lowered his mouth until it was near your ear, his voice full of authority. "Gonna fuck ya so hard, ya see stars. 'til your whole body is shakin' and the only thing comin' outta that mouth is the one who's fuckin' this pretty, tight cunt. And even then, I won't stop."
You shivered at the promise, your teeth chattering lightly as you inhaled a shaky breath.
Because the one thing about Soldier Boy, regardless of the years that dragged by, or the years he slept in cryogenic stasis, he would always keep a damn promise.
It's scary that there is a whole sector of people who think this is literally true and not just an elaborate game of pretend-with-me that we are playing.
Saying that characters have free will of their own is more of a shorthand expression for:
"Personalities behave with a certain mathematics, especially within the gradient of a story with given themes. In order for the story to be satisfactory, certain combinations cannot exist in cohesion. Forcing a character with a given dynamic to behave in a certain way is guaranteed to come off as forced and unnatural.
Is it possible to sidestep this? Yes, but often this comes with a change to the character's "personality matrix." This, in turn, may result in previous or later planned scenes in a story coming unraveled.
For longer and emotionally complex stories, these nested contradictions can stack upon one another, making it functionally impossible to change any detail of a central character without threatening the necessity for a major rewrite.
So, if the story has gone a slightly different direction than initially planned, getting a character to "behave" for a scene related to the climax or finale can feel like fighting against an independent agent with its own free will."
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