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dollfaceksj · 5 months

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still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 2

➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: mentions of rough sex; slapping, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, name calling, humiliation, degradation, mean!jk, biker!jk😋, bratty!reader (like reallll bratty), nude exchanging, pornography, cybersex, reader is a bit dumb, actually very dumb, sexting, flirting, neighbor beef, tension, jk smokes, bit of angst (cus it wouldn’t be a fic of mine if it didn’t have angst ofc), mentions of raw sex (WRAP IT UP), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

a/n: whew. HI. can’t believe pt1 went off like that😭 thank u sm for enjoying this fic !

thanks to tumblr’s new 1k max blocks limit, i had to add the rest in a reblog. you’ll find a link to it at the bottom!

i call this a mini three-shot cause i just left out all the unimportant stuff. it just constantly skips to scenes where yn & jk bump into each other i really dgaf if it’s coincidental the entire time. i had and still have no intention of adding more lore than necessary😭 its just a pwp so i rlly dc abt the lack of story telling and whatnot i just wanted to get this horny idea out 🙄

make sure to check out eli’s version too! <3

enjoy 😘😘 — the next part (pt. 3) will be the final part!

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

#2 — “gameboy”

You still don’t know his name.

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And that is how you spend the rest of your weeks.

Flirting.

Sexting.

Sending pictures of your naked body to a random stranger on the internet.

A random stranger whose name you do not know.

A random stranger that doesn’t know your name, either.

A random stranger that you’re somehow slightly possessive over.

A random stranger that’s somehow slightly possessive over you.

Constantly posting subtweets about each other only further proves that. Indirectly wanting to tell other people to back off without actually doing so.

It’s crazy how you two clicked almost immediately. Maybe men aren’t a lost cause after all.

The subtweets consist of more pornographic content, provoking each other and wording your wishes of what you would like to do to one another on your timelines.

Like posting captions that say, ‘wish you were here’ alongside a video of a woman getting fucked into a worn-out mattress.

Or ‘this could be us’ and it’s a video of 2 people kissing like it’s their last day on earth.

But then at times, you both just chat like best friends. Talk about the movies you like. Or the anime he recommends. Or the music he likes to listen to. He gets oddly defensive about Justin Bieber.

Even though you’re both aware that you’re two strangers, you can’t help but feel like you two have known each other for longer than just a few weeks.

Like the time you found out you live in the same timezone. Live in the same state. Grew up watching the same things on TV. Have heard of each other’s high schools.

But any details have been kept private so far—for safety reasons, of course.

It’s not like you don’t trust him. It’s not that. It’s just weird sharing personal info with someone you don’t know personally.

But there’s been some talks about potentially meeting each other.

You wonder what he’s like in real life.

You bet he’s as charming as he is through text. Probably average looking but you don’t mind in the slightest. Pretty men only break hearts.

You still don’t know what he looks like and vice versa.

You still don’t know his name and vice versa.

Somehow you both wordlessly agreed on revealing your faces when you meet for the first time. The only physical details you’ve noticed are some of his tattoos that you can barely make out thanks to the poor quality of his pictures. His toned body. Veins. Sweatpants.

Most of his pictures are taken in the dark. Seems like he’s always just holed up at home and you deduce he might be a homebody or a gamer—something like that.

You usually can’t stand gamers (cue your annoying fucking neighbor) however, you can’t help but fantasize about sucking this random online stranger off while he’s gaming or have him bend you over his gaming setup. Let him fuck you from behind over his keyboard. Hips pounding into your asscheeks as his gaming chair squeaks.

The buzzing of your phone next to your hip snaps you out of your sinful trance.

[Twitter]

@archurback4me sent you a message!

Your heart always jolts like it’s been resuscitated every single time he sends you a message and that hasn’t changed in the past few weeks. There are simply no words to describe how it feels when your phone buzzes and it’s the person you’re thinking about.

You sit straight up on your couch, crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce as you giddily unlock your phone.

@archurback4me | 11:12AM

Goodmorning brat

How’d you sleep

Sleep. How’d you sleep.

Right, that’s what you’d forgotten!

You | 11:13AM

wait omg

now i remember

i dreamed about you omggg

well you were kinda faceless but in my dream i knew it was you

@archurback4me | 11:13AM

Did you?

What kind of dream

You | 11:13AM

honestly it started out weird as fuck lol

i wish i could tell you something sexy but it really isn’t

you were in my old high school trying to buy something from the vending machine and it wouldn’t work

so you ended up punching it and then i stopped you

and told you to hit me instead like some kind of pick me girl lmaoooooo

@archurback4me | 11:14AM

LMAOOOO

Bruhhh

That is so random

Hitting you is crazy

You | 11:14AM

i know

i mean

watching you be so aggressive was pretty hot tho

woke up w drenched panties

@archurback4me | 11:15AM

That so?

You got proof or are you just talking out of your ass?

You | 11:15AM

ur trying to see my pussy at 11am? really? you’re horny at this hour?

@archurback4me | 11:16AM

11AM or 11PM

Idgaf

Let me see that pretty pussy

How are you supposed to decline when he says it like that?

You want to do everything he asks. Anything. Want him to want you. Need him to want you.

You drag your sweats down your legs, tossing them off your bed with a quick kick. The tip of your finger slips under the elastic of your panties, peeling it off your pussy and sliding it to the side.

Arm stretched out, you reach for a low angle of your glistening pussy. There’s a teeny tiny bit of stubble coming through, not that either of you really care.

You snap a quick photo. Check it. Aren’t satisfied. Snap a few more until you’re okay with the row of pictures you can choose from.

You | 11:19AM

(You sent a photo.)

@archurback4me | 11:21AM

For fucks sake

That wet from imagining me shaking up a vending machine, are you?

Shit

Can’t stop staring

You | 11:21AM

well yes.

i mean honestly

i don’t fantasize about you hitting me or anything like that

but being slapped across the face by you kind of sounds... hot

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

I’ve seen you tweet about it before

And you’ve rted several videos like that

So trust me

I know you’re into that

You | 11:23AM

hmm

yeah

i think it’s hot

but not like.. the way you’d slap someone for making fun of your mom

just... a quick slap to make me look at you when i’m disobeying

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

Choking, spanking, slapping, hairpulling, spitting, gagging

You sure you can take all that?

You | 11:23AM

are you challenging me?

@archurback4me | 11:25AM

I know better than to challenge a brat over text

Just wanna make sure angel

You | 11:25AM

trust me i’ll be loud about it if i don’t like it

but only if you’re down with it

@archurback4me | 11:26AM

I am

Because your dirty mouth definitely deserves a few slaps whenever you start yapping like you do so well

You | 11:27AM

kiss my ass jay

you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid lmao

Oh, right. He’d told you to call him Jay about two weeks ago. You’ve been calling him that ever since.

@archurback4me | 11:30AM

Wish I could princess

Let me see that ass one more time

You | 11:30AM

🙄.

what do i get in return?

@archurback4me | 11:32AM

I’ll write your username on my pelvis and post a vid of me jacking off

Oh.

The thought of him, jacking off with your username written across his pelvis, free for everyone to see. The thought of claiming him. Having him all to yourself.

The tingle in your core is impossible to ignore. You want him.

You | 11:33AM

so all those ppl chatting you up in your dms know that you ultimately belong to me?

@archurback4me | 11:33AM

If that’d allow me to see your ass then 100%

You | 11:33AM

ur so thirsty

so many asses you can see online

why mine

@archurback4me | 11:34AM

Because yours is my favorite duh

You don’t have to of course

There’s a compromise, isn’t there?

His favorite?

Does he chat with other people as well? Do others send him pictures of their body too? Does he send them pictures too?

That alone brings a scowl to your face but you quickly realize that, yes, he can do what he wants.

You get up on your knees and stretch your arm out behind you. Phone upside down. Hit record. Spank your ass. Catch the watch it recoils on camera.

Repeat.

Make him never want anyone else again.

You | 11:35AM

🙄.

just shut up

(You sent a video.)

@archurback4me | 11:35AM

Holy shit I need you

I need you so bad

Ahhhh you’re driving me fucking crazy

You | 11:36AM

you could have me

@archurback4me | 11:36AM

I’m so serious I’ll come one of these weeks and I’m not even joking

You | 11:36AM

i wish you would

@archurback4me | 11:38AM

I will

Give me a date I’ll write it down

You | 11:38AM

you’re coming to stay for a few days, right?

i have plenty of room in my bed for you

@archurback4me | 11:39AM

Hmm

Was hoping you’d say that

One night with you would never be enough for me

You | 11:40AM

hehe

exactly 3 weeks from now

the entire week

what do you say?

@archurback4me | 11:42AM

Never noted something faster

I have a dog though

So I was thinking it’d be easier for you to come to me

You | 11:43AM

i don’t mind you bringing your dog

luv dogs

but don’t think i forgot about what i was gonna get in return for sending you my ass

@archurback4me | 11:44AM

Jeez

He doesn’t reply for quite some time. The typing bubble doesn’t pop up either.

But after several minutes a new tweet pops up on your feed.

He didn’t caption it. Just a video that starts with his abs. You watch as his fingers trail down his stomach and tug his underwear down, revealing his squiggly inked skin.

And there it is, ‘@bratgaIore’ written across his pelvis in black marker.

He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking his rock hard dick at a perfect pace. The sound has been turned off and you really wish it wasn’t but then again, you don’t want anyone else hearing him.

Want him sounding pretty for you. Just for you.

You’ve clearly been staring at the video for too long because you get a new message.

@archurback4me | 11:54AM

Happy?

You | 11:56AM

holy shit

you actually did it

@archurback4me | 11:57AM

Of course I did

I don’t play when it comes to that ass of yours

You | 11:58AM

now im rlly horny

@archurback4me | 11:58AM

Aren’t you always

You | 11:58AM

thanks to you

i hate you

@archurback4me | 11:59AM

That’s fine

The feeling’s mutual anyway

Gonna enjoy the way you fall apart under me when I fuck you

Fuck you until you’re stupid

You | 12:03PM

a dream come true

guess what

@archurback4me | 12:04PM

Hm?

You | 12:06PM

(You sent a photo.)

The photo is a picture of your soaking wet pussy with his username written on your pelvis in black marker, too.

@archurback4me | 12:08PM

What the fuck

You’re trying to fucking kill me angel

I need to insert my tongue immediately

You | 12:09PM

here come the harvard graduates

insert is crazy

@archurback4me | 12:10PM

You drive me crazy

Pussy got me acting all formal and shit LMAOO

Got me wanting to wear a bib and say Itadakimasu😋 when I dive in

Fuck

Want you on my face so fucking bad

Spank you while you ride my face

Don’t think I’ve ever seen something so pretty

Think my mind will change when I see your face though

You | 12:11PM

LMAOOOO not itadakimasu😭😭😭

hmm

you like it?

@archurback4me | 12:12PM

Are you insane

I keep going back to it

You should write my username when we meet so I can see it when I take your clothes off

Know that your pussy belongs to me

You | 12:12PM

if you do it too

@archurback4me | 12:13PM

Deal

You | 12:13PM

hehe

😋.

btw

@archurback4me | 12:14PM

Hm?

You | 12:14PM

are you clean

@archurback4me | 12:15PM

What?

You | 12:16PM

are you clean

for raw sex

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Yeah I am

I’ll send you my results when I’m home

You | 12:16PM

you don’t have to do that i believe you

i’m clean too

where are you rn?

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Just left to meet a friend

You | 12:17PM

you’re not texting and driving right

@archurback4me | 12:18PM

Of course not, babe.

How am I supposed to meet my dumb girl when I’m dead?

I’m going by foot

Babe.

My dumb girl.

This is dangerous territory.

You | 12:19PM

just like how i want to be the death of you as i tease you while ur in public

@archurback4me | 12:19PM

Don’t

I’m warning you

I don’t wanna meet my friends with a raging boner

I just got rid of one

You | 12:20PM

ur so easy lol

@archurback4me | 12:22PM

Just you wait you little brat

Gonna leave you so fucking sore when I’m done with you

No breaks

Fuck you the whole week long

You | 12:23PM

hmm

gonna fuck me like you hate me?

@archurback4me | 12:24PM

I do hate you

A lot

Dumb girl

Don’t think that’s gonna change when I see you in real life

Might get even more pissed off when I see your bratty mug actually

I just know your face is so fucking bratty

You | 12:25PM

you’d be obsessed with me

i’m really pretty

@archurback4me | 12:26PM

Lmao yeah I probably will be

I’m sure you are

Gonna defile your pretty face when I cum all over it you stupid brat

But my friend’s here

I’ll ttyl princess

You | 12:27PM

can’t wait

bye daddy

@archurback4me | 12:27PM

Hell nahhhhh

Don’t call me that

You | 12:30PM

ok then bye mr. fuck-you-everyday-of-the-week

@archurback4me | 12:30PM

And will

Night after night

You | 12:30PM

go already

byeeeee

@archurback4me | 12:32PM

Bye princess

You go about your day like you usually would and later that night, he ends up sending you his results anyway. You were already asleep by then, though.

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Want to keep reading? The full chapter is out on my Wattpad.

Click here to keep reading.

a/n: thanks to tumblr’s new max 1k blocks limit, i’ll have to figure out how i’m gonna post the full thing on here. (probably tomorrow or friday) either by combining paragraphs or add the continuation in a reblog or something. but its out on wattpad so i hope you’ll forgive me !!

thanks for reading <33

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Here’s the link to continuation (in a reblog).

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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masuchu · 4 months

Text

“𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒” [GENSHIN MEN]

ways that the genshin men fuck you on your period ‧₊˚

genre. filthy smut, period sex, mentions of blood (obv), mentions of overstim (childe), cunnilingus (childe), mentions of punishment sort of, body worship (kaveh), sort of brat taming ?? (wriothesley) reader is femaleeeee

characters. childe, zhongli, kaveh, wriothesley

love, masu. aaaaaa i am on my period rn so this is so so self indulgent . it is also filthy . felt very very shameful writing this . (◞‸◟) neuvillette was also supposed to be in this but i have bigger plans for him …

(公子) 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ‧₊˚

We all know Childe is a menace on the battlefield. Obsessed with combat, addicted to duelling. Can not form friendships without fighting the person first. Needless to say, his bloodlust is perpetual and never ending.

You never really expected it to traverse into the bedroom, though.

Childe looks feral. His eyes are wide and hungry, unfocused and utterly hypnotised by your pussy. He presses a thumb into your clit, ignoring your cries and pleads of sensitivity, and watches as a large glob of blood ooze out of you.

“Ajax, please. M’ sensitive, it hurts…Agh!”

He completely ignores you. After a moment of intense staring, his mouth is back on your throbbing pussy, slurping both your juices and your blood. It is filthy, completely taboo. So why do you like it so much? Why are your thighs clamping down onto his head, as though you wanted to squeeze him into nothing? Why are your moans echoing and rattling the room, surprising even yourself with the depth and pitch of them?

You are broken out of your daydreams by a malevolent bite on your clit. A compressing pain spikes across your body, yet with it comes such an addicting pleasure that your pleads become garbled and unintelligible.

“Ajax, please! Too much, please, please, p—please!”

“What are you begging for, pretty girl? You get what you’re given. Now, fancy shutting your pretty mouth before I shut it for you? Feel free to stop wriggling too!”

You can tell that the pause he took from devouring you angered him immensely, and though his words were spoken as if he was asking nicely, you know him.

You know him well enough to know he would not hesitate to ruin you if you didn’t listen.

“God, your blood is so pretty. Would never hurt you, so let me have this, yeah? Makes me so fucking horny, you don’t understand.”

And with that he is back to devouring you. Your wide eyes peer down and find that he is in fact, not looking at you. No, his attention is entirely on his meal. Blood is smeared all over his face, making him look so horribly sexy. It pains you to admit it. His pupils are dilated, you only just now notice his nails digging into your hips. Keeping you anchored on the bed. Keeping you vulnerable for him.

You think— as best as you can in your state— on his words. Of course, the throb in your core and desperation to cum makes you biased, but you conclude that maybe you should let him have this. He is focused on you, so the worst you will deal with is a few more orgasms than necessary, right?

You know what they say, never make decisions while you’re horny!

(钟离) 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ‧₊˚

Zhongli loves you unconditionally. His love neither wavers nor falters, no matter what challenges the two of you face together. May it morph and evolve? Of course, but it is firm and loyal to you. And only ever to you.

So what does he care that you are on your period? He is still hungry— greedy — for you, and no amount of blood will stop him from having your sweet pussy sheathed on his cock.

“Zhongli, you really don’t have too— Ngh..”

The man in question presses a thumb onto your lips, effectively quieting you and leaving you shy and flushing. Hips roll up into you once more, his length hitting exactly where you love it. His eyes burn into you, filled with infatuation and lust. How is it possible that those eyes are locked onto you, of all people? You don’t dare question it, an endless fear of jinxing it.

“Do not have to what? I do not have to love my partner? To pleasure them, hm? I would rather lose everything than never be able to have you like this again, my dear.”

Zhongli’s hips roll into you again at the most opportune time; damn tease, he knows how much his tender words get to you. Unable to do much but take his punctual thrusts as and when they come, you wrap you arms around his neck and nuzzle into his chest. His own palms find themselves gripping your waist, carefully lifting you up with ease and hauling you down again, slamming his cock into you at the same time. The feeling paralyses you, but the worry of your blood still lingers in your mind.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? My blood will get every—Oh!” It’s a vexatious thing he does often, silencing you. Divesting you of your ability to speak coherently, and enkindling your heart slowly and maliciously. You aren’t sure you have ever finished a sentence he hasn’t wanted to hear. Not in bed, at least.

“I have seen enough blood in my days. Though, I am admittedly much more pleased to see yours in this way, rather than another. Do not worry yourself, I want to ravish you always. A little bit of blood will not put me off.”

At this his hips resume at a much faster pace, splitting you open on himself with no care of your hoarse whimpers. With each frantic thrust, he breathes heavier and your body is bounced higher and faster. His hands are always there to guide you, dropping your aching body down onto him again, again, and again. You allow your moans to fall out of your mouth and reverberate throughout the room, not at all coherent enough to fathom the mountain of pleasure you are feeling, let alone the noises you are making. All your can think about is that delicious pressure building up inside of you, and the slam of his cock in and out.

Needless to say, new sheets were purchased the next morning. And it has been harder to doubt Zhongli’s love for all aspects of you ever since.

(卡维) 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 ‧₊˚

“Does this feel better? Tell me what you want, love, I’ll give it to you.”

Kaveh’s fingers ruthlessly plunge into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He had instructed you a few moments ago to hold your thighs for him, to allow him easier access. It didn’t register that it meant not only you couldn’t hold back your obscene moans, but also that he could bury himself so deep into you that you could taste him.

“You’re so beautiful like this… I wish I could sketch you. Another time. Keep moaning for me, pretty.”

The blonde in question had felt horrible all day. When he saw you occasionally hobble out of your room, hands gripping your stomach in attempt to stop the pain, his frown sunk deeper into his face. He had brought you everything you asked: ice cream, water, medication, kisses, new towels. Every deed was appreciated, but he couldn’t help wanting to do more. To take the pain away like a lover should.

A fitting explanation for how you found yourself in missionary with Kaveh’s fingers ambushing your pussy like no tomorrow, hm?

The blond in question traces his free hand along your shuddering body— squeezing any plush skin there is to squeeze, caressing absolutely anywhere you will allow him. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes concentrated. His pays attention to every beauty mark, every curve, every detail.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Every part of you is provocative, you know. Can’t believe this body of yours was in such pain, it’s cruel!”

His delicate fingers thrust into you again, such pretty hands turning you into a mess. It’s a humorous juxtaposition, really. His effortless beauty, and you— a moaning heap, heaving and sniffling like a whore. He wouldn’t agree, you knew he wouldn’t.

Before you can even contemplate how dirty and blooded his fingers will be, let alone complain, his lips press into yours and strangles your cries in a passionate kiss. He is not usually a biter, but he nips your lower lip and watches in awe as it bounces back, swollen and jutted. He swears on the Seven that you will kill him one day. You’re too goddamn sexy!

“Had me running around all day, when all you needed was this? Don’t worry, I’m not complaining, baby. Would run—fuck, a million miles around Sumeru City if you asked me too.”

A second hand rubs at your clit. Your body has been pushed so far up the bed from his fingers, that when your back arches from the new sensation, your head slams into the headboard. Writhing, wriggling, screaming. Nothing frees you from him, from what he’s giving you. Both the fingers in you and on you continue their ministrations rapidly, and all at once, everything becomes nothing, and then too much. The taut string in you core snaps, and a flurry of arousal overcomes you entirely.

You ignore how Kaveh’s eyes widen, how he bites his lips and groans out a slow ‘Fuuuuck..’. You have no mind to worry about how you look right now, every bodily function betraying you as you lay lifelessly on the satin sheets. Mindlessly, your eyes attract like magnets to the beauty of a man still above you. Though, what you see immediately rekindles the flame of arousal in you.

Kaveh, his fingers in his own mouth. Sucking, slurping, devouring the lewd mixture of your blood and slick. It’s completely vulgar, almost foul. And yet you can’t help the way your mind goes crazy for the potential of having his dick inside you.

“Ngh, you taste so good on my fingers. Gotta make you do that again…”

“W—what did I do…?”

“You squirted, love.”

(莱欧斯利) 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 ‧₊˚

Don’t get him wrong, Wriothesley feels extremely sympathetic for you. He can’t imagine having to undergo what is often excruciating pain, bleeding heavily and treacherous mood swings on the daily. Not to mention on top of his regular workload! It’s hell on earth, he’s sure of it, and he will do anything in his power to make life even a smidge easier for you.

But he can only withstand so much of your bratty behaviour. Only so many ‘Ugh, you’re so annoying!’s before he starts to tick. You are in pain, yes, but it isn’t his fault! You can only bully him for so long before it begins to get under his skin.

“Just needed something to fill you up, huh? Does it make it feel better, sweetheart? You’ve certainly lost your— ngh, spark now.”

Wriothesley slams into you so hard you body writhes, and the bed you were thrown upon only a couple of minutes ago seems to disappear beneath you. A floating sensation engulfs you, and you grip the sheets in a fear of loosing all ground. A chuckle leaves his lip and taunts you, but you can’t imagine snapping back before he is, yet again, pounding into you and plundering all ability to breathe.

“Where’s that brattiness gone now, hm? If it’s still there, be sure to let me know. I’d be happy to fuck it out of you. Fuck, my cock is covered in your blood…”

The sight of your ichor coating his length entirely spurs him on, if his borderline monstrous thrusts are anything to go by. An overwhelming nothing settles in your brain, absolutely nothing except him, him, him, and the pleasure he is blessing you. Your lewd moans echo throughout the room, intensifying when his fingers travel down to press mean circles onto your clit. A divine surge of arousal flows through your body, and all at once, an orgasm swallows you whole.

“Cum for me, that’s it. Good girl.”

Lifelessly, your body flops onto the bed, no longer able to sustain the position on your hands and knees. With a few more bone rattling thrusts, Wriothesley finally reaches his peak and fills you up with his thick cum. He rides out his high with short little grinds, before joining you in succumbing to the comfort of the bed. The pads of his fingertips traces patterns along your arm before travelling up to caress your face. It’s hard to talk with the helplessly lovestruck and spent daze your brain is under, and with your face pushed into the pillow, but you meekly moan out;

“M’ sorry for shouting at you, Wrio. Didn’t mean it, I promise.”

“It’s perfectly okay, missy. Wouldn’t have an excuse to feel how tight you at this time if you didn’t.”

You scoff into the bed and let out a muffled insult, something along the lines of “dirty scoundrel.” Wriothesley pinches your hip, but he isn’t angry. He just chuckles breathily. The silence is tender and soft, until:

“Fuck, will this blood stain my clothes?”

2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe x reader #childe smut #childe genshin #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli genshin #kaveh x reader #kaveh smut #kaveh genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley genshin

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Remus is the type to keep a rubberband or a scrunchie on his wrist for his s/o

I believe that he started keeping it when sirius's hair got long in 4th year and he used to forget a hair tie everywhere.

When remus started dating reader he began keeping one particularly in their favorite colour but never let anyone know.

I can just imagine reader at a house party going around asking each girl for a rubberband cuz she forgot hers and he just pulls one out of nowhere and hands it to them wordlessly (or just holds his wrist in front of them and their eyes light up)

Would be awesome if you write smth abt this <3

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: alcohol, reader has hair long enough to tie back

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 560 words

Remus’ eyes track you as you ping-pong around the party, stopping to talk to people for only a handful of seconds before finding another target. He’s not trying to be a creep, but you’ve reached a stage of the night where a bit of supervision is necessary. Your eyes are alight and your smile comes easy, and when you pivot and a bit of punch sloshes onto your hand you don’t even notice.

You go from Lily, to Sirius, to Marlene, to Alice, back to Lily, and then aim for the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Remus intercepts you, setting a hand on your shoulder and steering you discretely away from any potential refills. “Having a good time?”

“Mhm.” You grin up at him, distracted by the movement of his hand up your shoulder to cup the side of your neck. You shrug and tilt your head, squishing his hand between them, and Remus indulges you by poking your dimple with his thumb. You giggle, delighted. “I’m looking for Mary. Have you seen her?”

He thinks for a moment. “Not lately, no. Want help looking?”

“Sure.” You catch at his other hand with both of yours, intertwining your fingers messily. “I just need to ask her something.”

“What’s that?” he asks as you start to tug him towards the kitchen.

“I’m sick of my hair.” You blow a piece of it away from your face, vexation twinging in your features. “I wanna know if she has a hair tie I can borrow.”

“Oh, wait.” He stops, pulling you closer before taking his hand from between yours. “Hold on a second.”

You look up at Remus curiously, not protesting when he turns you around by your shoulders and begins gathering your hair in his hands. He takes care to comb the errant strands around your face and the nape of your neck up with the rest, confining it all to a loose ponytail.

“S’that alright?”

“I didn’t know you carry a hair tie,” you murmur, almost to yourself, as you go towards a small mirror mounted on the wall. “Remus!” Your voice goes up an octave, elated. “It’s my favorite color!”

“I know,” he says, a bit smug. It only worsens when you spin around and throw your arms around his waist. Remus hums contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and you tilt your head back, chin digging into his sternum as you beam up at him.

“You’re so good to me,” you gloat. “How long’ve you been carrying that around for?”

“A while,” he says vaguely, because Since you told me your favorite color makes him sound like a loser and in your current state he’s not entirely sure you wouldn't start crying. “I’m used to having one for Sirius anyway, so it was really just a color adjustment.”

Your eyes go all soft and smitten, your bottom lip jutting out a bit even through your smile. “You’re the sweetest boy I ever met,” you tell him, sincerity coating your words like honey.

Remus rolls his eyes to dodge the compliment, opting instead to take your face between his hands and squishing your cheeks together. You let him without complaint, your smile going mushy. “You make me do sweet things,” he says.

You hum like you know the truth but you’ll let him get away with it anyway.

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callumsturn · 20 days

Text

Sweet John

Summary: John keeps finding ways to stop by the hospital to see you, until he finally gets what he wants.

Pairing: Major John "Bucky" Egan x female reader Content/Warnings: John Egan being a charming bastard, 18+ smut (minors don't interact), unprotected sex. This starts real innocent, but it's really not. Notes: If you have any requests you’d like me to write please let me know! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you!

As you're helping wounded soldiers, rushing through the corridors of the campaign hospital at base, you bump into none other than Major John "Bucky" Egan.

You look up to see his smug smile. "Sorry, sweetheart." His hand gently over your arm as a way to balance you.

If you didn't know better, you'd even believe he might have done it unintentionally.

"It's alright Major." You tried to rush past him, with towels in both your arms to the end of the corridor.

"You shouldn't carry all that yourself." He takes half of the load from your arms. "Let me help. It's the least I could do."

He carries on up the corridor, following close behind you. You turn your head to him for a few seconds. You know you should be resisting. But he's very, very persuasive. Even when his uniform is covered with blood.

"You have blood on your uniform." You simply state.

"Oh, yeah." He shrugs, not bothered to wipe it off. "You know how it is." he tells you "Can't even breathe at battle without getting some blood splashed on you." He looks at you. "You've got some on you as well."

You look down at your own white uniform. "It has seen better days, yes." You continue to walk to the end of the corridor, entering one of the patient rooms.

John follows after you and looks around as soon as you're inside. "Oh, you're taking these to..." he trails off a bit as he sees who's playing in that bed. One of the men from his squad.

"Hi Sergeant. How are we feeling?" You spoke to the man resting on the bed.

The Sergeant looks up at you. "I've been better." As soon as he sees the Major behind you he tries to sit up, still a bit shaky. "Major." he says, his voice hoarse.

"I'm gonna clean that open wound and switch it up, is that alright?" you asked the man in the bed.

"Thank you, miss." he adds as you begin to gather your tools.

You can feel the Major's gaze on the back of your head as he watches from the doorway.

"It's gonna hurt a little. Take this." You hand the patient a bottle of alcohol to drink.

He takes it, grunting a little from the pain of just moving. He takes a sip and sets the bottle down. As you pour liquid over the wound to clean it, the Sergeant's leg moves in pain. He grunts loudly and moves in his bed. You feel the Major aproach the bed and hold the Sergeant with no trouble. He tries to move again but the Major's grip is firm.

"It's alright. Just hold still now." Major Egan tries to calm the man. You see the compassion and concern on his face. His hand is still on the Sergeant's lower body, ready to steady him again if necessary.

You say nothing, continuing to clean the wound and prepare the needle to stitch. The Major remains close. He watches you work, and his focus is almost entirely on exactly that. The Sergeant squirms in the bed again, but the Major remains in place.

"Easy." the Major tried to calm him down.

"Almost done, Sergeant." you mention as you finish stitching him up.

"Th- thank you." The Sergeant glances toward the Major. "She's real good, I'm telim' ya, sir."

You chuckle as you begin bandaging his wound. "Now... you shouldn't get up. Just try to rest and no missions for a few days. This needs to heal properly."

"Roger that, nurse." the Sergeant replies with a smile. "Will do." he finishes. "Could I get some more of that bottle, though? You know how it is."

You smile as you hand him the bottle for the second time. He takes another sip, as you hear Major Egan chuckle, keeping his eyes on the man and then on you as you put the remainder of the supplies away in a near medical cart, back turned to both men.

"She's pretty, ain't she, sir?" the Sergeant asks his Major who's sitting beside him still, in a lower voice.

As you barely hear the Sergeants comment, you tried to pay no attention to it, not curious to hear the Major's response.

You hear the Major chuckle again. "She is. I'm sure she's even got herself a fella already. Some lucky bastard."

"Probably some high rank fella, too." the Sergeant continues jokingly.

"Not a high enough rank for that, no." You barely hear Major John say.

As you finish storing all utensils, you approach both men again. "You rest up Sergeant. I'll tend to other soldiers now."

The man thanks you, as he rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes. The Major still has his gaze on you as you walk past him.

You continue to go about your shift, working on other patients in other beds. You do your best to ignore the Major's gaze when he is watching you from afar.

"Am I under some kind of evaluation, Major?" You asked unfazed, not looking at him, but still tending to a patient.

Somewhat caught off guard by the question, the Major's calm demeanour slips a bit. "Uh... no. I was-" he clears his throat "Just... checking up on... on your patient care."

"On my patient care?" You chuckled. "How's that going then?"

"It's going very well." he replies a little too quickly.

"Well I'm glad." You paused. "Thank you for the help back there."

"Any time." he replies. You see that he wants to say something else, but stops himself. "You've got everything under control in here then?"

"Sure thing."

"Great." He clears his throat again. "I'm..." He's having trouble finding the right words. "I'll let you get back to work then."

"Thank you, Major."

"Yeah. Sure, no problem." He finally leaves the room. You don't see him again for a while, but notice his eyes on you several times over the rest of the week or so.

A few weeks passed and the hospital became less busy. Patients were recovering and the missions were being successful over all. You notice the change. It's more peaceful, which is just what both you and the soldiers needed.

But there is one thing that has changed your routine. Major John "Bucky" Egan has been coming by to see you more often. And each time he does, he stays a little longer and talks a little more. He always makes sure to pay careful attention to everything you say, and always makes an effort to keep the conversation going. You can feel the other nurses and doctors giving you disguised looks, wondering if there's something going on with the two of you.

The Major even shows up when you're not working, and seems to hang around to see when you start your shift or finish for the day. He's always just hanging back, not being too obvious about it. You found it quite charming actually, the effort he would go into just to talk to you for a little while. It was definitely flattering. He's a handsome man, and he's got a certain charm and confidence about him that you can't help but like. Although you're still unsure how to feel about all of the attention, and that uncertainty definitely shows on your face as he approaches you yet again, and starts up another conversation.

"Major Egan." You say after he approaches you.

"Nurse." he replies with a polite smile. He's carrying a coffee mug and offerts it to you. "I figured you might be tired after your shift."

You gladly accepted it. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you."

"I try." he shrugs his shoulders with a smile. You can see his gaze still on you as you take the mug. For a little while he doesn't say a thing, just watching you as you take a small sip from the cup.

Suddenly, he clears his throat a little and speaks again. "I was wondering... there's a cafe outside the base... I though it'd be nice to go there and get something to eat." he says. He's still looking you straight in the eyes while saying it, his body relaxed and his hand resting casually on the mug. "Would you like to join me?" he adds after a moment.

"Right now?" you ask calmly.

He nods after a moment. "If you'd like." he responds. "We could both do with getting some real food. Maybe something more comforting than camp rations." He gives you a small smile, still watching you carefully as he waits for your answer.

You smiled at him for a second. "I'd like that."

His smile grows a little wider. "Great." He starts to back away. "I'll... I'll head out there now." he says "I'll be waiting just outside. The cafe's not far."

"I'll be right there." you smile.

He gives you one more little smile before making his way outside and waiting just out front of the camp, leaning agaisnt the wall and looking out the gate.

You head to the locker room where you find a colleague. You head inside to change out of your work clothes.

"Hey there." she grins "how have things been with you?"

"Good." you smile.

"Major's been going around again today, hasn't he?", she asks, glancing over at you.

"Um... yeah, he has." you continue to change into your clothes.

"Yeah, I figured as much. He coming around more often now? Spending more time talking to you?"

You chuckle, embarrassed. "I guess, yes."

"Well, I figured he had a thing for you" she laughs. "It was only a matter of time before he started getting a little flirtatious. He's not very good at hiding it."

"I think he's just being nice." you said as you buttoned your shirt.

"Sweetie, he's more than just nice. Major Egan has a reputation aroud here, you know. He doesn't go around being sweet to just anyone."

"Well, I don't know. I don't want everyone to go around and talk about this. The other nurses are real nosy!"

"Oh cm'on, don't worry. They'll just tease you a bit if they can tell that something's going on. And besides, nothing exciting happens around the hospital, so they cling to anything." she paused "But you're lucky. The Major's a looker, and I'm sure that you wouldn't mind his attentions, huh?" She gives you a playful nudge as she asks.

You chuckle as you looked at her. "He really is a looker isn't he?"

"Hell yeah he is." she laughs "A real man after my own heart. And the more things continue like this between you guys, the more certain I am that you might be the lady that gets to keep him to herself."

"Well, I don't know about that."

"Oh, come on. Just look at him. Just waiting right outside for you."

"Alright now. Enough of this." you said as you put your coat on. "I'm heading out."

"I'll see you back here later." she chuckles as you head out.

You find Major Egan just where he said he'd be. As you pass him and make your way to the gates outside, he starts walking with you, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"That's your work done for the day?" he asks casually.

"I have to get back in a few hours.... night shift."

"Ah... sure. Night shift. Busy workload tonight?"

"I don't think so."

He keeps his hands in his pockets the entire time, but he seems comfortable, confident, and content. "I bet it'll get busy in there." he adds, pointing to the cafe. "They have some of the best coffee and food around here."

"Have you been there lately?" you ask.

"It's been a little while now." he replies. "I had some time off last night and was going to go there, but I ended up making a stop by the hospital." he shrugs a little. "Had to see if you were looking after these soldiers properly, of course." he adds jokingly, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, you've been a real caring Major these last few weeks."

"Well, I was just making sure you were up to the task of caring for our troops." he continues.

"Oh, your soldiers never complained."

He smiles at your comment. "Glad to hear it." He looks at you again, a small grin on his face. "Or maybe it's just that they have something nice to look at while they're recovering?"

"Alright now Major Egan."

"Oh come on, why don't you just call me John, hm?"

You looked at him for a couple of seconds. "If you're sure."

He gives you a little nod, still smiling. "Absolutely."

You approach the cafe and he holds the door open for you as you walk inside.

The cafe is busy as John said it'd be. Off duty soldiers fill the place with their drinks, raised voices and the smell of cigars. Most of them are playing a game of cards at the tables. Several are chatting and laughing with each other, making it a very lively environment. Major Egan steps inside and closes the door behind him.

"It is busy, isn't it?" he asks as he guides you to an empty table. He holds your seat out for you before sitting down across from you. "You don't mind it being so busy, do you?"

"Not at all."

He smiles, his hands still in his pockets. A waiter comes to your table and takes your order. John asks you what you want and then orders for you. You just smile politely at the waiter before he heads off.

"I'm glad you agreed to come with me this afternoon." he says after a moment in silence. You notice him leaning forward on the table as the conversation continues. He seems quite calm, but you can tell how focused he is on you.

At one point, one of the soldiers at another table glances over at the two of you, and then nudged the others at the table. There's a murmur of conservation and a few more glances as the others take note of the Major and the nurse sitting together again.

The Major doesn't seem to notice though. It remains a lighthearted conversation, but there's an undercurrent of something a little bit more going on underneath the surface.

Before either of you realize, both of you have been talking to each other for half an hour. The Major shows no signs of losing interest in the conversation.

After a while, a couple first year Sergeants approach the table curiously, excitedly presenting themselves to John.

"Major Egan, sir!" the first says confidently.

"Major." the second follows. They both glance at you a tad nervously.

The Major looks up at them and smiles, still sitting at the table casually. "At ease, gentlemen" he says, raising his hands off the table, but still relaxed.

"Sir, a few of the men were wondering if they could get an extended leave, due to the successful mission earlier today."

The Major stares at the first Sergeant for a second, and his eyes dart over to you. He's still smiling a little, but there's a serious side to him that comes through as he talks with them.

"I understand that you were planning on extending their leave to allow them to rest?" he replies to both men.

"Yes, sir." the first replies "if that's alright with you, sir?"

"It's alright, Sergeant." the Major nods again. "There'll will be no issue on my part in regards to that. How many days are you looking at?" he asks, looking between the two Sergeants.

"Around a week" one of them replied boldly "if that's fine with you sir?"

"A week, hm?" he stares at them for a moment. "A week should be sufficient for them to recharge, especially after a mission like this morning. Make it happen."

The Sergeants both nod their heads. "Yes, sir." They both give you a resrpectful salute before turning back around and walking to the larger table.

"Major Egan..." you say mockingly. He was so different when he talked to you.

He glances over at you with a little half grin. "Yeah?" He laid back in his chair as he waits for you to continue.

"And just when I was about to call you John." You say.

He chuckles softly at that. "Go ahead and call me John. If anyone around here is going to call me that, it should be you." he took a sip from his beer.

That gave you a chill down your spine, out of nervousness.

He sees that he has gotten some sort of reacting out of you, but that smile still remains on his face. "Go ahead, call me John."

"Alright, stop that." you chuckle.

"I just want you to call me by my first name. Is that too much to ask?"

You look at him in the eyes for a second, before smiling. "In here?"

"Here" he pauses "or anywhere else if you'd like." He lays back and continues to smile. That damn smile.

As you take in his comment, music starts to blast and all the soldiers rise from their seats and grab the women to dance. The cafe instantly becomes an athmosphere of fun and liveliness.

The Major glances over at the dance floor. "Would you like to join me?"

You nod your head shyly, and take John's hands as he pulls you into the dance floor. The music is a classic swing tune, and the soldiers all seem to know the moves perfectly, moving with rhythm and flow in a very playful mood.

Major Egan seems to be familiar with the dance, and as he moves with you his confidence and skill is undeniable. He leads you easily, gently pulling you around and twirl you in his arms, and all the while, he stays completely focused on keeping you steady, stable.

"You're a good dancer." he tells you, still smiling playfully as he does. He spins you around in his arms and then back around again, pulling you close enough so that his face is inches from yours. He's still maintaining a comfortable distance between you two, but it's evident that he wants to be so much closer.

The music begins to pick up more, and as it does, his moves become just a little bit more intimate and playful. His arms around your waist. It's clear that he's more than just enjoying the dance.

Moving his hands down to your hips as he holds you, not giving you quite as much space as before. He tilts his head and gets closer to your face, maintaining that same playful grin.

"Careful, John." you say over the music, teasing him.

He chuckles at the teasing, but he doesn’t pull away, nor does he stop dancing with you.

His movements get a little bit more playful now, bringing you in even closer.

"John..." you begin.

“Yes?” He stares at you with that same grin on his face, but his eyes have become more intense now, as if wanting to know where this is going.

"Kiss me." you ask.

His eyes remain on you as he stares quietly for a second, but then he finally leans in to meet your offer. There is nothing playful or light-hearted about this exchange. This is a serious and bold moment for the both of you. Major Egan goes completely for it, pressing his lips against yours. And as he does, his hands moves to your hips and pulls you even closer to him. The kiss was slow but eager, like weeks of tension have been building up. Every movement and gesture felt intentional. His hands on your hips feel more intense and firm now. You pulled back and heard the music echo.

The moment of silence was deafening.

The music was no longer all that you could think about. He stares back at you, clearly still wanting more, but he holds back from following through in that very moment.

"Let's go." you say looking up at him.

He doesn't answer, but simply nods his head. He takes your hand in his own, and together, the two of you exit the dance floor and leave the cafe. As soon as you hit the street night air, John grabs your hand and pulls you close again, his lips finding his way to yours. Your bodies are pressed against one another, and the intimacy of the moment is undeniable. His lips find yours again, this time, more eagerly. And he lingers for a second or two, savoring the kiss. This time, it feels like he’s taking it further, as his hands start moving down to your waist more playfully.

“You wanna take me to bed?” You simply say.

He looks back at you, a bit amused at the question, but also somewhat surprised that you had the boldness to suggest that.

He stares for a second, his lips partially parted. “Yeah. I do.”

His answers are blunt and straightforward. But there’s also a confidence and assertiveness about him that makes it very evident that he is completely and totally up for that idea.

You smiled. He smiles back at you, before leaning forward to take your hand again. But this time, he doesn't just hold your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, his hand more possessive now as he glances down at your interwined fingers.

He leads you back into the base, guiding you towards his quarters.

The silence between you two is punctuated with little whispers and small talk here and there, but overall, the atmosphere is very much still intimate and playful between the two of you.

You noticed your environment. You've never been in this part of the base before, as it was only reserved for the Majors. It’s clear that this is a very private side of the base, for these higher ranking officers to be able to relax in the company of their women.

As you walk down the corridor, you hear the song My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker echoeing from a hall near by. Major Egan guides you through the hallway, the two of you still following hand in hand, until you both finally arrive at his room. You enter and before you could assimilate the space around you, John grabs your waist from behind, spins you around and you watch him close the door behind him so effortelessly, just before he kisses you gently, but passionately.

Everything around you has become a blur now, but you feel his hand on your back, leading you closer to his bed.

You start to walk backwards as he guided you. You put your arms around his neck, looking for support as he kisses you eagerly now. You jump, clinging into his body, as he grabs the back of your legs with his hands, easily supporting your weight. You moan quietly as he starts to feel your skin under your skirt as he holds you with both his hands.

John exhales soundly. "God..." he trailed off "You even sound beautiful."

His lips attack yours once again, filled with desire. His comment gave you chills all over your body. You felt him sit on the bed, you now straddling his lap. Being this close to him left you intoxicated, even speechless. You had nothing to say to him. Your attempts seemed to only come as careless whispers or moans as he explored your body with his hands.

"John..." you finally spoke.

You felt him smile into the kiss. "Yes?"

You took a second to answer, processing his touch. "Fuck me." You finally said.

He couldn't hide his smile. "I wanted to do this right." he paused as you looked at him. "I wanted to make love to you first."

The smirk plastered on his face made you melt. His eyes glistening with adoration for you.

You retributed the smile. "Sweet John..." you began tracing his features with your fingers. "Please do that."

You saw his smile grow slightly wider just before he closed the gap between both your lips.

He held you closer, his grip on you more firm, but never once hurting you.

“I imagined this moment a lot.” He confessed.

You began to take his uniform off. His shoulders so broad and his arms like two comforters around your torso. He did the same with your clothes but taking his sweet time to take in every little detail about you. The curve of your neck, the shape of your breasts and the freckles on your skin. Most of all he noticed the way your expression changed slightly when you became blushed with arousal.

His pants were bothering you, they were in the way. Your hand flew to his belt, trying to unbuckled it with no success. You saw him chuckle, surprisingly out of nervousness, as he helped you take it out. You always thought the Major John Egan would be swift in these manners, he had experience after all. It was the only thing nurses talked about, how much luck he had with women, inside or outside base. Was it so hard to believe that he could be actually nervous because you were the one unbuttoning his pants and trying to discard them? That was hard to grasp.

John grabbed the low of your back with one arm, supporting the other on the bed to lay you on top of it. He stood sat on the bed even after kicking his uniform pants, watching as you lay naked waiting for him to join you.

His expression was a mix of desire and adoration.

"What is it?" You asked laughing.

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing." he opened his mouth for a second before speaking. "I just think you're the most beautiful thing I've seen walk this earth."

You visibly blushed. How could you not? "You're just saying that because-" he interrumpted you immediately.

"Clothed or not." He said plainly, guessing the rest of your phrase. He looked at your face for a couple of seconds, and you did the same with difficulty. He was so handsome, his hair dischevelled falling perfectly on his forehead.

Not bearing it being away from him one more second, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to lay on top of you, opening your legs, allowing for him to fit in the empty space.

He immediately kissed you, your bodies now glued to each other. You could feel his hard member press against your core. You bent your kness, allowing him access. Your way of letting him know what you wanted.

He positioned himself at your entrance, ever so carefully. He looked at your expression as you gasped slightly, feeling him. He then kissed you gently, but eagerly, as he pushed himself inside you, slowly. Your mouth hang open as you threw your head slightly back on the pillow. He looked down at you, and he swore he could come undone right then and there, watching you in that blissful state.

You felt his lips on your neck, beginning in the low of your jaw until the base of your neck. You exhaled when you felt his touch and he could feel the vibrations of your voice on his lips.

His thrusts were purposely slow so you could adjust to his size. Soon enough he started to go deeper as you dig your nails in his upper back muscles.

"Faster." You pleaded, your voice only coming out as a low whimper.

He could hear it alright. John picked up his pace and you moaned louder as you felt every inch of him molding you.

"You feel so good." you heard him say between grunts into your lips.

You brought your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You broke it to speak finally. "John..." you called out his name. "I'm- I'm close."

"I know sweetheart, I know you are." his voice intoxicated you with desire, you could barely control yourself. "I can feel you closing on me." he continued thrusting in and out at that perfect pace. "You can let go... I wanna see that perfect face when you cum."

That was enough for you to explode. You soon came undone, your voice a higher pitch when you moaned his name a couple of times. You felt his warm release spill inside you. His face inches away from yours, mouths open, exhaling as you both reached your high. The moment that followed seemed like completely silent, only your breaths almost in perfect sync.

He smiled after noticing tears of pleasure in the corner of both your eyes, kissing each one of them away from your face. You both moaned when he removed himself inside you, both still very much overstimulated.

He laid next to you, immediately pushing you into his chest, arms wrapped around you. There were no words needed. You guys didn't have to talk about what happened. It was clear.

A few minutes were passed in silence. You looked at the clock on his wall, which marked almost twelve.

"Shit, I have to go. The night shift." you grabbed a bed sheet instinctively to cover yourself as you sat up, looking for your clothes scattered on his bedroom's floor.

"No." his voice lingered, pulling you back on the bed again. "You're staying here tonight."

You smiled as you looked at his sleepy expression. "I don't think that's up for you to decide. The doctors do our schedules, I have to show up to work."

His voice became deeper with tiredness. "I'm Major Egan. I can make a few calls." He suggested, his voice now more playful. "If you'd like to stay here with me tonight." his demeanour expectant.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds, giving thought to his offer. A smile escaped your lips, as you lay in the bed again, slightly embarrassed.

"They can get by without you one night. I can't." he admitted while wrapping his arms around your torso, setting the covers on top of you both.

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livwritesstuff · 6 days

Text

Steve comes home from a few hours of running errands with his and Eddie’s one-year-old daughter Moe to find Eddie pitching an absolute fit to his beleaguered book agent Paul over the phone.

Given how Eddie’s third book is about three months away from its release date, Steve has a pretty decent idea what the fit might be over.

The dreaded book tour.

Look – Steve doesn’t like it either. He didn’t like it back in ‘95 when Eddie’s first book came out. He didn’t like it in ‘99 with the second one either. He definitely won’t like it this time around, especially now with Moe in the picture. He actually likes having his partner around, believe it or not (and, if he’s honest, there’s still some baggage surrounding work-related travel and his parents’ relationship that he’s still trying to shake).

Still, he knows it’s a necessary evil of Eddie’s success and they’ll all survive it.

That’s Steve’s perspective anyways, even if Eddie doesn’t share it with him.

Eddie looks over as Steve drops a few bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter.

“Hang on, Paul – Steve just got back from absconding with my daughter,” Eddie says, and then he pulls the phone away from his ear, “Don’t put her down for a nap yet.”

Steve only shakes his head.

“Sorry, Paul,” he says, not raising his voice quite enough for Paul to actually hear him (Eddie hears him though, and that’s what matters) as he continues on his way up the stairs to get Moe ready for her nap (he’ll drag out the process as long as he can for Eddie’s sake – he’s not a total monster).

In the end, Eddie’s phone call ends no more than five minutes later.

“So what’s the damage?” Steve asks when Eddie makes his way into Moe’s room.

“Five weeks,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls Moe out of Steve’s arms. He presses a kiss to her chubby cheek and then adds, “Stops goddamn nation-wide.”

“Maybe stop writing so good and you wouldn’t have this issue,” Steve points out.

“Shut up – I’m not gonna do it. Paul can drop me, see if I care.”

“You’d care.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump.

“Yeah, I’d care,” he mutters, and then he shakes his head, “It’s entirely unfair that he’d expect me to leave home for over a month when he knows I have a little baby at home. I’m not doing it. She’ll be a whole teenager when I come back, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him, “It’s five weeks, love. She’ll probably still be the same shoe size.”

“I’ll miss our anniversary.”

“No, you won’t. It’s not ‘til the month after.”

“Okay, who’s side are you on here?”

“Paul’s, obviously.”

Eddie’s jaw drops as he feigns an affronted expression.

“I cannot believe that my beloved, my betrothed–”

“Betrothed?”

“–would side with my traitorous agent over–”

“Ed, Paul was pretty forgiving when you slowed down writing for six months for the foster training stuff,” Steve points out (and it’s a point that actually manages to stop Eddie’s tirade – an impressive feat, he’s well aware), “And then he was really forgiving when you stopped completely for almost a year when Moe was born. Wasn’t this book supposed to come out, like, over a year ago? I feel like the least you can do is put up with a book tour given everything you’ve put him through.”

Eddie only blinks at him a moment – clearly trying to fathom any kind of counter-argument and coming up empty.

“Damn you,” he mutters.

“Can’t believe you used to be the guy who wanted to be a rockstar and go on year-long world tours,” Steve laughs, “Now you can’t even handle a month of the continental United States.”

“Watch your mouth, Harrington. Hey – maybe you and Moe can come and be the world’s cutest groupies.”

“We’ll see.”

#little do they know robbie’s gonna show up 10 months later and delay the next book by another four years lol #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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gisellaswrld · 3 months

Text

i look at you wondering where your mind is at; you’re the first choice in my heart always

bb6 | being selected as a celebrity captain along side your brothers for the nhl all stars games was a situation you never thought of. leading up to the games, you made jack and quinn promise that brock would be the first pick. but after a small fight the morning of the games, you decide otherwise.

a/n this was fun to write and i love brock so much so if you guys want more bb6, please send some requests!! i’ll write a more smutty part two at the request of you guys :)

There were many things you loved that you had to give up due to your brother’s successful hockey careers. Your parents were already stressed out with three boys who all loved hockey, but you added stress on top of that. All your life, you never really enjoyed playing hockey. You played one year, just to prove to your mom you didn’t enjoy it. Ellen took the news with a heavy heart, but decided to give you options of what to pursue next. That’s when the entire Hughes family pinpointed your special talent. It wasn’t hockey, or volleyball, or golf even. It was singing.

After the realization, Ellen quickly found the best talent coach in Michigan for you. Moira, your singing coach, helped you develop the skills necessary for being the next big pop star. Fast forward to now, 20 years old, and you were jumping the charts. After opening on the Era’s tour for Taylor Swift, then the release of your first album Emails I Can’t Send, you were the next big thing. The media loved it all, they ate the news for breakfast.

Every single Hughes child was successful. Ellen and Jim got tons of recognition for raising successful children.

Currently, you resided in Vancouver with your older brother Quinn. Throughout the past years of living with him, you grew to adore his teammate Brock. What started as a friendship between two people who would confide in each other during tough times, blossomed into the dream healthy romantic relationship.

When you received the invitation to be a celebrity coach for the NHL All Stars game, you quickly accepted under one circumstance. That you’d coach alongside your brothers. Of course when the news was released, everyone went wild. On top of that, you got to join one of your close friends Tate as a coach. Tate had reached out one drunken night, asking for either your brother or Brock to fight Cole during a Canucks vs. Blue Jackets game. Since then, your friendship with her was as thick as thieves.

The morning of the All Stars draft had been going smoothly. You made Quinn and Jack to promise to pick Brock first, and they listened. You knew of their planning schemes with some of the other coaches, practically planning the draft before it happened.

You sat on the hotel bed, shoving cereal into your mouth. Brock was showering, getting prepared for the red carpet he had to attend before the draft. He came out, dressed in black pants and a white sweater. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, a curious look forming.

“What happened to your other outfit?” You asked, setting the cereal down on the bed side table. Brock quickly looked up at you, then looked back in the mirror. “Decided not to wear it.” Brock nonchalantly answered.

“Oh?”

“Don’t be like that, doll. It’s not anything crazy. Just figured I’d look more professional.” Brock explained, walking to sit on the bed. You scooted further away from him, a glare settling on your face. “So your first outfit wasn’t professional?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Why are you making it a big deal?” Brock’s voice came across aggressive, causing you to scoff. “Because it was your idea? And I was excited to see you wear it.” You stated, quickly getting off the bed.

Brock watched as you gathered your makeup bag and other things needed to get ready for the entire day. You started to head towards the door when you heard his voice again. “Where are you going?”

Your hand clasped the door handle, pulling to door open. “To my brother’s room. I don’t want to deal with you or this right now. Just know you upset me and I’m angry.” You stated, leaving the room quickly.

Quinn and Olivia’s room was a few doors down and you were convinced you’d enjoy being around them more than Brock right now. You knocked loudly, hearing some shuffling before Quinn opened the door. Before he got a chance to speak, you shoved past him, setting your things down.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, shutting the door behind him. “Or do I even want to know?”

“Brock made me upset and I don’t want to be around him. I figured Olivia would enjoy having a friend to get ready with.” You answered, looking around for her. The bathroom door quickly opened, Olivia standing in a robe with curlers in her hair. “Y/N!” Olivia smiled.

“Hi Olivia, Brock made me mad. Now I’m here.” You greeted her, a smile on your face. Olivia gasped, crossing her arms. “What did he do?” Olivia questioned. You glanced up at Quinn, who was definitely more curious than Olivia.

“He changed his outfit, so now he isn’t wearing his special shirt.” You stated, shrugging. Olivia’s eyes widened, a scoff falling from her lips. “You mean the shirt he paid like $80 for? The shirt that has your face on it? The one he specifically bought for this?” Questions quickly fell from Olivia’s mouth as disbelief spilled through her tone.

“I’m going to Jack’s. You guys have fun.” Quinn left the room, hearing enough from the story. “Yes that shirt! He said he wanted to be more professional.” You exclaimed, a sad look forming on your face.

“What an asshole!”

You and Olivia finished getting ready, but you had to be at the Scotia Bank Area sooner than her since you were a coach. When you arrived, you were immediately swarmed and overwhelmed by the girls wanting pictures and autographs. You tried your best to speak to everyone and at least hold a conversation with them. Your agent, Thalia, stayed close by. She ensured you were making good time. For one moment she stepped away for a phone call.

“They want you for interviews now, sweet heart.” Thalia informed, ushering you forward. You were led to a room filled with reporters, players, the other celebrity coaches and captains. Once you were spotted by Tate, she quickly ran over to you.

“Oh my gosh! You look so good.” Tate gushed, pulling you into a hug. You smiled, quickly reciprocating the gesture. “Thank you, you look great yourself.” You replied, pulling away.

“I was surprised when Brock was brought back here without you. Are you guys okay?” Tate asked, her voice quiet as reporters were currently interviewing Auston, Morgan, and Justin.

“Got in an argument this morning, so I’m not speaking to him.” You shrugged, ignoring his stares from across the room. “Guess he should be reminded that even though the draft is planned, I can still have a little fun.” You added, a devious smirk on your face.

“You are evil. I love it.” Tate giggled, pinching your shoulder softly. “Oops, gotta go, it’s my turn.” Tate waved, walking over to Cale and Nate. You moved over to your brothers and Elias.

“Pst. Can we wait till after we draft the last Goalie to pick Brock?” You whispered, the plan already forming in your head. Quinn, already knowing of the argument, rolled his eyes. “They got in an argument over his shirt.” Quinn quickly explained.

Elias had a confused look on his face, but let out a sigh. “I guess, but don’t you think that’s mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “Mean? Sure, but I could be writing a song about him so what’s a little harmless fun?” You answered.

All four boys stared at you, then looked at each other. “If you don’t do it, I’m going to tell mom.” You spoke harshly, staring directly at your brothers. “You know how upset she gets when her brothers don’t listen to her only little princess,”

“Fine, fine. He will go after the goalies. Just don’t tell mom.” Quinn shook his head, slightly annoyed at his sister’s antics. “She’s got a point. Shouldn’t we be sticking up for our sister?” Jack agreed, gesturing towards you.

The rest of the interviews went well, except for when a reporter requested for you to do an interview with Brock. The interaction was tense, only short answers given from the both of you. You were sure the clips would quickly be on Twitter from your fan base, but oh well.

The draft started quicker than ever, the Hughes team getting the chance to pick the first player. You already told Brock that he was the intended first pick, but after deliberating with your brothers and Elias, Nikita Kucherov was going to be your first selection. You requested to be the person to announce it, just to see the look on Brock’s face.

“Team Hughes, are you ready for your first pick?” Jamie asked, looking at the group of four. Everyone nodded, agreeing on their final selection. You took a small step forward, a smile on your face as some fans cheered. “We chose Nikita Kucherov from the Tampa Bay Lightening,” You announced, eyes quickly locking to Brock.

Brock rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face. J.T. Miller nudged him, a curious look on his face. You shook Nikita’s hand, letting him go grab his jersey.

Quinn ended up picking most of his team, along with Brady Tkachuk, Jesper Bratt, and Cam Talbot. After a commercial break, the choice was back to the Hughes Team. You took a step forward, waiting for Jamie to give you the go.

“I guess, we are picking Brock Boeser. Even though he didn’t wear his shirt with my face on it, then was mean to me.” You scrunched your face, watching as Brock skated up while shaking his head.

You held your hand over your microphone as he pulled you into a hug. “You are in trouble, doll.” Brock mumbled in your ear, then promptly skated off to receive his jersey. You had a small smirk on your face, clapping as he received his jersey.

The rest of the event went smoothly, thankfully. Now you were pilled into Uber’s that were driving you to the bar that Auston Matthews rented out for the night. You were squished in between Brock and Elias, uncomfortably squirming in the seat at some of the potholes in the road.

Brock’s arm hung loosely behind your seat, his hand occasionally tugging at loose strands of your hair. To which you’d return a nudge at his side, and he would always react with a low chuckle.

“Scoot over, I know you are uncomfortable.” Brock leaned over to whisper in your ear. Jack was blasting music loudly in the Uber so it wasn’t hard for Brock’s voice to get drowned out by anyone but you.

You glared at Brock, but still scooted over to sit in his lap. “You still mad at me?” Brock continued to speak quietly, his hand squeezing at your exposed thigh.

You nodded, continuing the fun ignoring game you liked to play when you were mad. Brock hated it, despised it actually. Yet, you still did it because Brock would always find a pleasuring new way to deal with your attitude.

“Come on, don’t act like I don’t know what you did. I’m sure you loved convincing your captains to switch the draft order, all over a silly argument.” Brock spoke, tugging at another strand in your hair.

You looked at him in confusion, wondering who snitched to him. “You think Pettersson would keep it from me?” Brock now had an amused expression on his face.

Thankfully the conversation was put on pause as you arrived to the bar. Brock tapped your ass as you pushed open the door. Tonight, your plan was to continue to be angry at Brock, just to catch a reaction out of him. And boy, would it be a fun night.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #nhl all star game #nhl all star 2024 #quinn hughes #jack hughes #elias pettersson #brock boeser #brock boeser x hughes!sister #brock boeser x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader

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apas-95 · 3 months

Note

The last post you re logged about arrestability and the Palestine Action network is something I've been thinking about a lot, and I feel really stuck on. It feels like any movement in the imperial core that wants to take actual direct action is going to find itself targeted by feds, but the ways that you can protect against that severely preclude it's ability to grow and find new recruits. Like, activism in the labor sphere can do more direct things because it doesn't have to be illegal, but I cant imagine that that will stay the case once a political labor party that's actually shutting things down. How does one make a mass movement that takes direct action but is able to prevent itself from getting shut down? I don't know, do you have any thoughts on this?

It's been done a hundred times before in the face of the same pressures, so the first order of business should be studying and learning from the experiences of successful labour movements.

Putting that aside, the key things are, in whatever words, militancy and deniability. By militancy, I mean the organisational understanding that you are in direct conflict with the bourgeois state (at a higher or lower intensity) and that your immediate priority should be making yourself immune to attack, followed only afterwards by taking offensive action. Militancy, then, means the recognition that the ultimate aim of the movement is the complete material domination and destruction of institutions that currently field armies and police networks. From the very first step, from the organisational nucleus, it needs to be understood that you are engaging in a pitched battle from within the enemies camp - which leads to the second key item, deniability.

Deniability, here, largely means compartmentalisation. Essentially every successful revolutionary movement has had a separation between the aboveground, legal struggle, and the underground, illegal struggle. To a certain degree, this is a genuinely covert or clandestine effort - undisclosed armed groups known only to a select few in the parent organisation, attributed funding through the laundering of the parent organisation. It is both essential that any armed cell is dependent entirely on the wide, integrated mass workers movement and that this cell is not actually widely known; hence, the parent organisation. If the cell were undisclosed but not integrated to a mass political organisation, it would not have revolutionary character, and be indistinguishable in practice from a common organised crime or terrorist group. It's ability to carry out correct actions would be incidental, and not self-correcting. If the cell had mass character but was not undisclosed, it would present a target to the bourgeois state and be destroyed. The strategy of asymmetric warfare is to strike at the enemy's undefended targets and to refuse to provide any defended targets for the enemy - this applies organisationally, too.

What needs to be stated, here, is that, given the connection to the mass movement, everything needs to be done only when the situation is correct. The size of a workers organisation necessary to support and supply even a single armed cell with laundered funding, safehouses, and information is extremely large, and will not be possible until a significant level of organisational base has been built and developed. Even once it is possible to support an armed cell, the political situation will very likely only warrant fairly low-intensity actions, like industrial sabotage. Again, though, the principal task of the militant - and the irregular fighter, the guerrilla in particular - is the preservation of one's own forces, over and above the destruction of the enemy. In real practice, there is no overabundance of caution, only hesitation - and the way to consistently and repeatedly carry out simple acts of industrial sabotage is by having three people work with the support of thirty-thousand. There can and must be a continuum of support, of different levels of action, between simply 'protest-organiser who pays dues to the aboveground labour organisation', to 'union salt who is a source of information on a worksite', to 'directly involved in organising and carrying out illegal acts'. The key metric for correct connection between the underground and aboveground sides of the movement is: if the actions of the underground were revealed, the mass base of the aboveground should be in support of it. The purpose of underground organising is not to go ahead of the people and start shooting cops (until the struggle has escalated to that intensity, and people are demanding that type of protection), it is to avoid providing a target for the bourgeois state.

At the higher levels of struggle, the existence of the underground becomes an open secret, which, with proper growth, coincides with the underground reaching a size and strength that it can begin to take up the mantle of the mass movement itself, and effectively transform itself into the parent organisation of the aboveground legal struggle. Until then, the model is that of a large political party leading a mass movement in every type of legal and semi-legal action under the sun (in strikes, civil unrest, and parliamentary campaigns), fiercely supporting those who do break the law (through legal and bail support, public campaigns, and protection), while the types of illegal actions the movement needs are carried out covertly.

TL;DR: Build a mass movement, or all you'll get are ecoterrorists and activists in prison.

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looking-for-wisdom · 4 months

Text

one of the aspects of rgu that can get overlooked, I think, once you finish that first watchthrough and start looking at the story in a new light, is that anthy — at the very least — has already started caring for utena by the time she loses her duel to touga.

which, in fairness, is the natural and arguably correct response. because when you learn anthy has been all but omniscient the whole time, and that each act by utena to “save” her is just another diminishment of anthy’s autonomy, you begin to understand that in those early episodes, utena is a tool to her. an object of disdain or pity, maybe, if you’re going to argue that anthy thinks anything of her at all. utena is a means to an end.

and somehow, that has to coexist with the fact that anthy missed utena when she’s touga’s bride.

anthy is a tough character to read, but I think the simplest break down of her relationship with utena is that the more emotion she shows, positive or negative, the stronger their bond in anthy’s eyes. poisoning her cookies is an act of care. stabbing a sword through her chest is a love confession. because for a character like anthy, who’s natural state is ambivalence, any deviation is an expression of affection the only way she knows to express it.

And the easy to grasp, natural progression, is that she starts at zero on the scale of caring utena exists, and moves towards the other end of the spectrum as the show continues, coming to a head in the finale.

but it doesn’t work that way. by all accounts, anthy shouldn’t be missing utena by the end of the first arc. utena has steamrolled her the entire time, deciding what she needs without consulting what anthy wants. it’s not dissimilar to any other duelist.

it’s fascinating that their interactions during that arc meant something to anthy. it’s necessary, of course, for utena to realize she cares for anthy but it didn’t have to be reciprocated.

but it is, and in that we find fantastic juxtaposition: anthy does not care about utena as much as utena cares for her — not at this point. she’s not even really at a point that she’s frustrated with utena. if she feels guilt over how upset utena was after the duel, she doesn’t show it. and knowing what we know about the rest of the show, we can’t really blame her. utena is another cog in the system and anthy sees right through it.

and, at the same time, she’s grown to care for utena. she’s become accustomed to her presence and when it’s gone, she misses it. she’s never missed a duelist before. so, somewhere in all of utena’s misguided actions and sometimes outright disregard for what anthy wants, anthy sees something.

It’s not as simple as anthy not liking or caring about utena at the start and then they come to understand each other over time. there are interruptions in the pattern — moments of connection that occur regardless of where they are on the path to mutual understanding. and that’s what makes it so complicated and so interesting. there are no absolutes. there’s no saying that utena’s aim to be a prince and save anthy was hopeless, because somewhere in the midst of all that they were bonded together. perhaps in spite of it, perhaps because of it, perhaps a bit of both — that’s the sticking point.

their relationship is a melting pot of contradictions, but none of them can be removed and still lead to the same ending.

there is no pinpointing the moment anthy began to care for utena. she always does, in a fractured sort of way. you see it throughout, in bits and pieces.

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #I need to do my annual rewatch I’m sure I’m forgetting things

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b-o-e · 1 year

Text

sleepy phone call Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: fluff :))

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #6 :)

You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

“Hello?”

Ah, jeez.

What had you been thinking?

You’d been staring up at your ceiling for who knows long. You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion seeping through your body.

What made you think calling Wally would be a smart idea in your barely coherent state? Well, actually, it was probably just that. You incoherent state did.

“Hi,” you finally mustered out. You were already regretting your decisions. What if he’d been asleep? What if he had been peacefully reading a book in bed? Painting, for whatever reason?

“... Are you alright?” Wally’s voice returned, laced with concern. There was a bit of rustling. “It’s late,”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. You were debating hanging up there and then, but that would be even worse at this point, wouldn't it?

“I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Your heart swelled. He was always so sweet and considerate, wasn’t he? Always there when you needed him. You shouldn't have doubted that.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, gnawing lightly on your bottom lip.

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,”

You facepalmed. You’re an idiot, aren’t you? No, he had not been asleep.

Nonetheless, a giggle slipped past your lips, amused by your own silly mistake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind,” he told you. “I’m quite used to it. What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

What was keeping you awake? Really, you had no clue. Was it the fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind, to the point where you subconsciously thought ‘hey, calling Wally in the ungodly hours in the early morning is a good idea’?

You shifted your seated position, fiddling with the phone's cord as you pursed your lips in thought. Finally, you decided on an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.” You claimed. It wasn't a lie, yet it saved you from telling the full, embarrassing truth.

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” You heard a bit of light shuffling.

“I…” you paused, trying to find the words you wanted to say. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think… I think I just wanted to hear your voice,” you confessed to him, blunt and honest.

The call went silent. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Did that sound odd?

“Wally?” You forced a chuckle, wiping your sweaty palms on your sheets. When did it get so warm in your house? “Sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?” You apologized, grimacing a little.

“Not at all,” his response came swiftly, pausing before he continued. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved you hadn’t creeped him out. You knew Wally wasn’t very judgemental, but you still worried sometimes with the things that slipped past your lips.

Silence fell between the two of you, leaving you to desperately wrack your brain to figure out the right words to say.

What was the point of being so uptight? You already let that last comment slide. You were getting too tired to care, anymore.

“Would you mind…” you began, taking a second to figure if you really wanted to say this.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly.

“Hmm…” he hummed, “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,” you shook your head, despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see it.

“Anything…” Wally parroted, going quiet for a while. Your eyes fell shut, your body further into your mattress. Even with him on the phone now, you were feeling less restless than you had been beforehand. His company was comforting, even over a silly call.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?” Wally’s sweet voice returned to your ears.

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here for you if you need me,” you mumbled.

“... Do you promise?” His tone almost seemed to be one of slight insecurity, an unusual sound for him. Your eyes reopened, staring back up at your ceiling. This seemed like something that could be important to him, and you wanted to ensure he had your full attention.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” the words fell off your tongue with ease, repeating a vow he told to you some weeks prior. A promise you were more than willing to keep in return.

“Well,” Wally began, “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,”

About you? Now, that was a bit worrisome.

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong to harm you,” you stressed. That was the last thing you wanted.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,”

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you breathed a chuckle, your worry levels lowering. The feeling was still there, as you remained unsure of what the cause of Wally’s distress truly was.

“Sorry, neighbour… I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he admitted, sounding slightly defeated.

“Take your time, Wally. There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,” you tried to put his mind at ease.

You could hear him inhale deep and slow, holding it for a few moments, before letting it back out. He spoke gently.

“Your eyes,”

He paused for only a second, releasing a sigh.

“They rob the words off of my tongue.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening in surprise.

“My heart,” he went on, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,”

There was no way this was happening.

“Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

Said heart pounded in your chest so loud, you could hear it in your head.

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently,” He continued.

“And yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” His voice was at a new level of gentleness than you’ve ever heard before. It was filled with nothing but open honesty, although you felt like there was something else laced in with it.

“You’re unfathomably endearing, and I crave more of you every time we part. That night we spent time together under the stars?” He ended with a questioning lilt, causing you to reflect back on that evening.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,”

You didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, you were simply just… speechless.

“And after all this time, I’m still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,”

“The truth is, my darling…”

Your mind is playing tricks on you, if you heard what you were expecting next.

“... I’m in lo–”

You slammed the phone down on its base.

This was not happening.

Were you dreaming?

Have you been asleep this whole time, stuck in an extremely realistic dream?

The pain in your arm when you pinched it tightly answered that question for you…

You stared into the darkness of your house, wide eyed.

Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“Of course he was!” You answered that question aloud, slapping your hands to your face.

And you just hung up on him!

You froze.

You hung up on him.

…

You scrambled out of bed.

You tripped over your twisted blankets in the process.

Go, go, go! Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t care to put on any shoes. It was the least of your concerns right now. You yanked your front door open, darting out of it, and making a mad dash to Home.

Your feet padded against the ground below them, your legs moving faster than you thought they even could. Your adrenaline was spiking through the roof!

What if it was too late now? What if you ruined your chances, forever?

Your brain nagged at you. What if this? What if that?

When you came into Home’s view, it didn't even see you as you approached, attention focussed elsewhere. Once it did take notice of you, its door swung open for you, swaying slightly as if to usher you in. That's exactly what you did.

Your eyes, blurred with stressed tears, scanned the room around you. Drifting to the table where Wally's phone typically sat, you found it to be missing. You followed the line that connected to the wall, ending at the landline, sat right next to the man you were looking for.

His head lifted from his knees, attention captured by the sound of your hurried breaths as your body tried to compose itself.

His widened in shock eyes met yours, teardrops rolling down his cheeks as they did on yours. No matter, a smile still remained on his features, despite being the most pathetic you’ve ever seen. You stared at each other for a moment, until you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Say it to my face,” you panted out.

You walked closer, kneeling before him, your hands cupping his cheeks. His own came up, wrapping gently around your wrists.

“Please,” you begged softly, voice cracking with desperation, choked up. “Please, Wally, say it to my face,”

His gaze softened, never breaking from yours. He opened his mouth, hesitating.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

And that’s all you needed to hear.

You closed the gap between you, kissing him, his grip on your wrists tightening.

“Again?” You murmured softly as you pulled away, looking into his awestruck eyes. He took a moment to process what had happened, before he responded.

“... I’m in love with you,”

Your lips pressed to his in another gentle kiss, Wally having the mind to return it, more prepared this time. When you pulled away, the corners of his smile quirked upwards.

“Ha ha, again?” He was the one to request this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'm in love with you,” he repeated, hopeful of receiving another kiss. You gave a choked giggle, giving him what he desired. You pecked his lips, his cheeks, and then his forehead.

“I’m in love with you too, Darling.”

imagine getting deceived twice in a row AHAHAAH, I had to make you think it would be more angst so you wouldn't expect this ending like so many of you did, bwahahah! yes, you get a happy ending! yippe! however, this still isn't the end, and there is more to come!

but! feelings are out there! feelings are reciprocated! yippee! I hope you enjoyed this part, maybe just a smidge more than the last, haha!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!! 'tis all for now! next will likely be out in two days! like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, gimme dopamine rahhhh!!! until next time! MWAH! <3

Posted Sunday, May 6, 2023, at 11:37 AM

#wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #welcome home x reader #welcome home #RAHHHHH HAVE THIS #im eepy #gbye B)#i just sneezed aughnsak

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lorelune · 5 months

Text

lobotomy commission

|| jing yuan x gn!reader || T || love sick hopefully lovers || wc: 3.9k || ao3 ||

The Xianzhou Alliance has... never allowed lobotomies? Why are you so insistent on receiving one?

(The General, the Divine Foresight.)

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: oh mister general jing yuan you have me so damn heart eyes. here's a lil sweet treat!!!!

CW: fluff, friends to lovers, jing yuan being a bit silly, alcohol consumption, FLUFF, a bit of crack being taken seriously

"Lady Fu, I need to be put down." Your cheek hits the low table. You feel pathetic. It's a Thursday and you're teary-eyed after far too little wine to be in such a state. You sniffle.

"No one is 'putting you down'!" Fu Xuan huffs from the other side, patting your arm. "It's rare that you’re this mopey. What’s troubling you?"

"I am not 'mopey'. I need a lobotomy. Which of the commissions would handle this procedure?"

Lady Fu frowns, clicks her tongue, and sighs your name, “A lobotomy, really?

"Yes, exactly. As soon as possible, preferably.” You down the rest of your cup and restlessly flip your phone screen up.

"This is particularly pathetic. Stop drinking and wallowing and just tell me what's wrong."

"Fu Xuan, you will scold me." You push yourself up on the table and shake your head. "No, actually, you will fire me. You will send me to my office this very instant, force me to pack up my things, and turn in my permissions. I'll be out of a job. Then, I'll be homeless. then—"

"No, nuh-uh, no more dramatics!" Fu Xuan slaps a hand over your mouth. You're glad you’re seated in a private corner of the bar, as this is a rather pathetic display on both of your parts. "Please just tell me, what’s the matter?”

Your dilemma.

"I like the General."

Fu Xuan frowns, expression pinched, and her hand falls heavily onto the table. "That... isn’t exactly new information? Even if it’s a... questionable call of taste, the general is handsome. Occasionally charming when he isn’t being an oaf on purpose. I don’t think having a bit of a crush on the Divine Foresight is anything unusual. Half of the population of the Luofu holds the same opinion.

“Okay, but,” you unlock your phone, a ceramic, cat-shaped charm swinging from the vase as you wobble. “What if the General were to return my feelings? And he invited me for a walk and a meal tomorrow evening?”

Fu Xuan's jaw drops. "You're joking."

"I'm not,” you whine and slide your phone across the table.

...

Divine Foresight 🦁:

Are you free tomorrow evening? I know a terrace that has a splendid view of the overlook near the Cinnabar Eyeline. I would be delighted to take you to it and share a meal after,

Divine Foresight 🦁:

If you'll have me :3c

...

“Oh... wow.” Fu Xuan looks shocked. It’s hard to shock her, but she does tend to avoid divining the destiny of those she is close to (unless entirely necessary.) Her intuition regardless of mathematics and astral geometry is, however, keen. Yet her eyes are wide and she struggles to gather her words. “What a menace.”

“I know.”

“The General is rarely so forward. I’ve never heard of him being so forward.”

“I know.”

“Except, perhaps—”

“With me?” You rub your cheeks. They’re warm from the wine.

“Only you. Though this is particularly... telling. I’m sure it’s sincere.”

“I would agree.” Your stomach flutters, and you swallow the feeling down.

Fu Xuan narrows her eyes and says your name, mouth in a thin line, "You haven't replied."

“And that’s why I need the lobotomy.” You swallow. “I’m going to turn him down.”

“WHAT?!”

You need another drink.

Fu Xuan clearly does not. Her cheeks flush rosy pink as she slaps her hands on the low table. “Why would you reject him? Even if he’s a scoundrel— he is genuine.”

“I know, that’s why I can’t accept his... proposition.”

Despite knowing that Jing Yuan serially denies any potential suitors or daring admirers. You know that it has always been like this— from the time long ago when he first gained rank, to his ‘withered age’ as he self-deprecating refers to himself now. He is always kind about his rejections, you’ve witnessed one or two of them, but he never even entertains the idea of romantic partnership. You’ve never heard him mention it or any desires.

So, for him to so bluntly ask you on a date—

He couldn’t be more clear with his feelings.

“You’re a fool.”

“Now, you’re getting it.” You pour yourself another glass of plum wine. Your shared bottle is nearly empty. “This is why I need the lobotomy.”

Fu Xuan watches you drink your glass in a single go. Her brows are pinched and her arms are crossed. Her shoulders sag a moment later.

“I do believe I understand your reasoning, and I don’t think it’s lobotomy-worthy.”

“... High praise.”

“[Name].”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” You laugh behind your palm. The world feels sticky and bouncy, all at once. You crave the respite of your own bed. “I can’t accept his proposition in the form of a text. I mean, Lady Fu, he's the most powerful man on the Luofu. He is renowned in all fields of battle, strategic, and social graces. He’s kind. He probably like, kisses babies on Sundays at the markets."

"He does not."

"You never know!" You groan. "That's all to say that I won't accept an invitation to a date with this little effort put into it."

"... Because it's a text?"

"Because it's a text." You nod.

Fu Xuan pauses, then sighs.

“I can’t decide if that makes you a fool or not.” Her hair is frizzing up with the humidity. "Perhaps you have a point, the General is old enough to know and have some decorum when going about these things."

"Maybe he's a virgin? But like, for dating."

"I'd have to check... certain records. Archives. To confirm or deny that."

You wilt, “He probably isn’t. I’m being foolish.”

“No, you’re not.” Fu Xuan smooths a hand over your cheek with a frown.

"Lady Fu," you cry and wish you were at home. In bed. Maybe you should block his number. "You're supposed to say, 'You absolutely are, my most beloved junior, I will schedule your lobotomy and—’"

"No more talk of lobotomies, please."

"Fine, fine." you sigh and finish off your final cup as Lady Fu does as well. "Do you think I'm nuts for turning him down?"

"... No, I don't." Fu Xuan looks shy for a moment. A lot more human than her lofty station implies. "I don't doubt that... Jing Yuan has feelings for you. I see how he looks at you. But he ought to romance you a bit. A text is low effort. You should reply regardless though."

"I'm going to, I just needed some courage. And moral support." You give her a soft smile and tap back into your messages. Fu Xuan practically crawls around the table to your side. She leans her head on your shoulders and her eyes droop. You take a heavy inhale, then exhale, attempt to focus your blurry vision and craft.

...

You:

General, though I'm flatered by your offer, I will need to decline. Though I will ackknowledge what I would imagine (and hope)) to be your genun

You:

geuine

You:

gennuie

You:

genuine

You:

feelings, I cannot accept an invitation in the form of a text message. I must be wooed.

You:

lady Fuu says "if you are capable of such things"

You:

pls don't fire her she's a good boss and so nice

You:

[picture from XX/XX/XXXX @ 2:14 AM]

...

The next morning is hell. Hell. You wished you had undergone your requested lobotomy. It certainly feels like someone has stuck metal rods into your brain, with the migraine pounding the back of your eyes. Maybe a hangover this bad is somewhat equivalent to a lobotomy. Your memory of your night prior is... cloudy, to say the least. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you manage to down a glass of water and a handful of peachy-colored pills. You speed walk to the Divination Commission, shooting Fu Xuan an apologetic “sorry, running late, forgive me 🙏" text.

You mentally pat your drunk self on the back. After you sent your... rejection (ouch) to the General, you muted his messages and deleted the thread. No evidence, no way to feel awkward about it sober. And no way to dwell on it either. Besides, you hardly remember what you said to him after your last glass of wine. It’s hazy in your memory.

It was... perhaps a foolish way to go about things. You certainly could have approached the General and talked about it, but he sometimes spoke in circles about matters of the heart. Maybe... maybe you felt too fragile to dance that dance, if it came to that. Maybe, you were a bit overwhelmed by his invitation. You know all too well that he does not let himself be pursued. He does not pursue others.

You feel blind-sided by the whole thing.

But that doesn’t matter— because you cleanly rejected him and your only repercussion is a hangover that you’re sure Fu Xuan is twinning.

And besides, it’s better that you rejected him. He’s of such a high— highest station. He wouldn’t have time for you, surely. You... have gotten used to your entirely and completely platonic, twice-a-month lunch dates and the occasional star chess lesson (where he never lets you win but you swear you'll give him a run for his money.) But it's fine. You can let go of those things, along with your feelings for the General.

It's better this way.

You think these thoughts somewhat confidently until you arrive at the Divination Commission and find a crowd swarming the central platform under the Matrix of Prescience Ultima. Frowning, you try to weave through the edge of it to your office, where you conveniently have a few nutrition shakes stashed away that you most certainly need. You’re already late and this hangover needs to go. You have a full docket for the day that you need to make fuller so you don’t think about—

You nearly stumble when you hear a rich, familiar, roll of laughter. You freeze, slowly turning to the sound. A crown of fluffy hair peaks above the small crowd, a red ribbon waving in the breeze.

Absolutely fucking not.

You duck, just in case, and try to creep below the crowd. You probably look ridiculous, but you absolutely cannot see Jing Yuan. You can’t. Your poorly-thought out, hungover plan of not caring about the General does somewhat heavily rely on not seeing the man. You trip over over your own feet and barely catch yourself so as to not tumble to the ground.

Jing Yuan calls your name and

You freeze before jolting to your full height a moment later. The gaggle of your coworkers part enough so that you’re able to see him— lit so well and handsomely in the morning sun, smiling so easily with... perhaps a hint of mischief in the curve of his lips.

He waves with his free hand, while a massive bouquet is pillowed in the crook of his arm.

The flowers are beautiful— off-ship exotics, clearly. The colors are all bright oranges and vibrant blues. Thinner stems are topped with bundles of white, delicate flowers that break the barrage of colors. They look fresh, like they’d been cut this morning. Fu Xuan stands next to him, clearly hungover herself and close to popping a blood vessel. It’s incredibly rare that the General do anything in the mornings, especially causing a commotion in the Divination Commission.

Jing Yuan, who is more than likely aware of this, looks entirely unbothered. Actually, he glows as he calls your name, gentle and rich, and the sound of it hits you in the chest, “There you are.”

"Here I am." You're not. You need that lobotomy. You nod to him curtly, "General. Is there something I can help you with today?"

Fu Xuan looks like she’s going to expire right there on the platform.

Jing Yuan cocks his head knowingly, “There is, yes. I have a rather personal matter to discuss in private with you. Are you available?”

You have things on your schedule. You can make yourself appear busy, if it means not dealing with the General you can’t really hide from and the beautiful bouquet in his arms. “Well—”

“They’re free.” Fu Xuan all but pushes you toward him. You regret covering her tab the night before. “Especially free, since I’ll be rescheduling our weekly meeting to tomorrow.”

“Is that really necessary—?” You laugh and wring your hands. You feel caught in the worst way. “General, will this personal discussion take much time? I am quite busy today—”

Jing Yuan, who has been watching your exchange with Fu Xuan wordlessly, looks a bit... crestfallen. It’s hard to tell on a man who holds himself like the General, but it’s there. A crease between his brows that’s slight, but visible and abnormal. Maybe he’s holding the bouquet a little tighter than he probably thought. There’s a sheen of sweat on his temple that, if asked, he would probably blame on the heat index for the day.

Your words die in your throat as you take him in and force yourself to meet his gaze. Honeyed and sad, a bit like a kicked dog.

“... I suppose, I could arrange a proper appointment with you. Perhaps it was uncouth of me to expect such accommodations to be made for me last minute. I apologize.” You can hear his tone change. It may be imperceptible to someone else, but you notice the shift in him. Gone is the playful lilt and air of mischief, on his a veneer of niceties that you... had forgotten he loses around you.

Something in your chest aches.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Floundering. Jing Yuan adjusts his hold on the bouquet—

“Enough of this.” Lady Fu shakes her head. She shoos a hand toward the lingering onlookers. “Back to work, now. Don’t eavesdrop either. I’ll know if you do.”

(Debatable, but it’s Fu Xuan’s favorite threat.)

Once the crowd has dispersed, she turns toward you too. You needed that lobotomy, like, yesterday.

“I will make the necessary changes to your schedule so you can speak privately for as long as you need." She points at you, then Jing Yuan. “Sort this.”

The General raises an eyebrow at her. She’s bold to speak in such a way to someone above her own station, but Lady Fu doesn't dare back down. She glares at him, then you, partially covering her mouth to block Jing Yuan’s view before mouthing, “FIX THIS!!!!”

...

On the way to your office, you walk side by side, in silence. You’re trying to think of the right words to say.

“... Are you sure you have time for this, General?” You ask him, softly. “I don’t mean to ask as a slight— just— I don’t want to inconvenience you is all.”

“Of course.” He replies easily. You turn down the long, quiet corridor that leads to your office. It’s tucked away in a corner of the divination Commission, facing outward toward the Arbor’s stump with tall windows providing a sunlit view. You’re glad you don’t have to look at him as you unlock the door with a thick-looking key. “This is a rather pertinent, time-sensitive matter we’re discussing. My own schedule is not consequential in this case. Haste, moreso.”

You laugh under your breath.

“Great Lan, Qingzu is going to kill me.” You sigh before pushing the door open with a shake of your head. Perhaps a smile curls on your lips. Who’s to say. “Did you at least not leave a pile of paperwork for her to delegate in your stead?”

“And what, diminish the time I have for my afternoon nap with busy work?” Jing Yuan laughs. The sound fills you from the bottom up and you want to choke on it. You tear your gaze away from him. “Such a thing would be unhealthy, you know. I’m an old man.”

“An old man who needs an ample amount of beauty sleep.” You tease him, it’s easy to. You speak before you even have a chance to think about the warm nature of your words. The meaning behind the bouquet in his arms that he still hasn’t given to you.

Why Jing Yuan is in your office at all.

“... If this is about my texts my last night—”

“It is, partially.” Jing Yuan hums. “I’m afraid I’ve slighted you, and it’s of the utmost importance I correct my transgression.”

“That’s— That’s not necessary, General.” Your cheeks burn.

“It is. Entirely, in fact. Stating my intentions with you over text messages was... a poor choice on my part. I must apologize appropriately, don’t you think?

“I mean— that’s—” Your words flounder in your mouth. “Kind of you.”

It is kind of him. He certainly doesn’t need to be here, in your cramped office, with a bouquet that costs close to what you make in a day of work. He doesn’t need to be showing a sincere, lovesick smile as he speaks. He’s showing you a card he’s kept close to his chest. One you, perhaps, guessed he had, but hadn’t intended to ever see.

He presents you with the bouquet, “You said you must be wooed, and I am here to begin that process explicitly.”

"... I said what?" You’re going to burst into flames.

“I thought you may not recall your exact words. Did you and Lady Fu have a fun night together?” Jing Yuan chuckles, and you flush so hot you feel almost faint. “You said that I must, and I quote, ‘woo you’.”

He smiles at you, the glint in his eye a bit more mischievous. More knowing. He’s toying with you.

“I— no— I’m so sorry, General.” You cover your face with your hands and back into your desk. “Forget I said that. Please forget I said anything.”

“Please, use my name.” He corrects, gently. “I’d prefer not to forget. You have a point, I should have stated my intentions clearly and to you in person.”

You peek at him between your fingers. He still holds the bouquet out to you, like he’s trying to lure a cagey cat in for a pet rather than make a confession. You feel out of sorts. Off kilter. That said— it is nice to hear him in person. Your heart has been oscillating between fluttering and pounding.

Jing Yuan tilts his head sweetly at you. You take the bouquet from him and examine it closer. There’s yellow and lilac pollen dusted on the filaments, fresh and fragrant.

“Jing Yuan, then.” You reply to him, softly. It’s hardly the first time you’ve called him by his name, rather than a title, but he preens when you speak regardless. “... So, you intend to woo me then?”

“Entirely.” Jing Yuan hums to himself, looking quite proud. “I do fully recant my offer I sent previously. Though I would be happy to lounge with you in the terraces and see some lovely views, I’ve secured a reservation for this evening at a lovely restaurant in the Exalting Sanctum, if you would accompany me.”

Your stomach flips pleasantly. You can’t help the little smile that’s twitching over your lips. You take care to not crush the bouquet in your arms, despite the urge to squeeze it to your chest, just to tamp down the thumping of your heart. Stroking your thumb over the silken petal of lush, round-petaled bloom, you let yourself smile.

You can practically hear Jing Yuan holding his breath. His eyes look hopeful and young.

“I accept,” you reply. “Consider me wooed.”

“It was that easy?” Jing Yuan’s voice takes that air of smugness that you know is a farce but you still can’t help but to approach him and bat your hands at his chest.

“I already like you, you know,” You laugh. “I was more offended that you wouldn’t face me and tell me your intentions. I hardly know the General to be a coward. I was a bit slighted.”

Jing Yuan catches your wrists in one of his hands and gently holds them against your sternum. His fingers lay over the thump of your heart; you wonder if he can feel it. You feel pleasantly woozy when you meet his eyes and all their intensity. Intention.

“I apologize.” He speaks smoothly, easily. Perhaps ducking his head down to be closer to your own. “It’s quite difficult to proposition someone so beautiful and kind.”

“Ah, so the General was hiding behind a screen, then?” You laugh over the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”

Jing Yuan hums, and you pop up on the corner of your desk. He’s close enough to feel the heat of him, and see the threading of his uniform and the glitter woven into the rich fabrics.

“Hm, I wouldn’t say it has anything to do with cowardice.” Jing Yuan shakes his head. His breath is warm over your cheeks. “I planned to tell you my intentions of courting you at the Terraces, once you accepted. I, perhaps, was too presumptuous in expecting you to assume beyond my initial ask. I should have been more clear.”

You stifle a laugh and flex your hands, still held in his firm, but kind grip.

“Jing Yuan, if you continue to speak to me so directly, I’ll demand you take me out now and not this evening.”

“Is that so?”

“Entirely.” You struggle to maintain eye contact and not let your gaze drift down to his lips. “I’m not used to you speaking so clearly, only your riddles.”

“What riddles?” He tilts his head, curly, a sweet smile on his face that is far too mischievous for who he is expected to be.

“Oh, you know—”

“Do I?” Jing Yuan asks. He steps between your thighs, the width of him forcing your legs wider. As if your flush could be any more intense. “You must tell me more over lunch. I’ll send a message to Lady Fu and clear your schedule?”

“... She did say to take as long as we need to sort this,” You soften, a bit intimated, if only for a moment. “Is this sorted?”

Jing Yuan hums, “You did say you were wooed. I’d consider that fairly sorted.”

“And you’ll have me?” You ask him, daring to slide your arms over his shoulders. The contact bubbles up months of tension over Star Chess boards (during games that, perhaps, were not entirely platonic).

“I’d be honored.” Jing Yuan’s voice sounds sweet, more quiet than you’ve heard before, like it’s just for you to hear.

There’s an edge to it all still— something raw and new that will need to be tempered. That is the nature of immortality and the relationships and partnerships that come with it. Complexes develop, heal, and grow differently within the self. You’ve already gamed out a few of Jing Yuan’s (a cursed Master who he will only reference in melancholy, unrequited love he was too young for, so many tragedies that he somehow manages to give himself for not preventing). He is perceptive. You’re sure he has put together some of yours as well.

For now, there’s a promise of good things. There’s the feel of him pressing his lips to yours, gentle but unyielding, strung with a mutual yearning that, in retrospect, would’ve been a shame to crush and hide away. There’s the warmth of him so close, and closer still when you drag him closer by the nape of his neck.

You can feel his grin against your lips, and you mirror it easily.

No riddles, only a fragrant bouquet and intention.

#lore writes #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan reader insert #hsr x reader #im very in love with him #he is so husband #feeling very soft and yearning about him lately AAAAH #enjoy :''^)

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psychotrenny · 4 days

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Lancer is a funny because of how much it insists that Union is this flawed but ultimately benevolent institution that's well on the path to improvement, a "utopia in progress" as they love to say, when like they casually reveal so many things about it that show Union as rotten to the fucking core. Like as much as Lancer fans like to go on and on about how it's an imperfect society that needs to make compromises, there's so much awful shit about Union that just seems pointless or easily avoidable.

And like part of this is the creator's politics; they're social democrats so it's not surprising that Space Sweden is their idea of a society that, if not the best we could possibly achieve, is at least the best we can do for the foreseeable future. As a Marxist-Leninist it's only natural that I'd have a condemnatory view of such a society just as I do for real Social Democracies; my idea of an achievably "good" society is just fundamentally different from that of the creators But like Lancer is also full of little details that just seem fucked up and awful even from the values and viewpoint of Social Democracy. Like stuff that's just as bad, if not worse, than a lot of sci-fi Dystopias. Like why the fuck does Union have a CIA that's run by a group of super-computers with the actual elected legislature having an advisory role but no actual jurisdiction and this fact being kept secret from the vast majority of the populace? Not much of a democracy if one of the most powerful institutions in the entire political body is free from any kind of democratic or even fucking human oversight while most people aren't even allowed to have an opinion on this because they aren't allowed to know about it. Or what about the caste of Janissary diplomats (like was it really necessary to take children and train them like they're the jedi of interplanetary relations) who come with customised computer slaves. Like yeah don't forget about the fucking SCP computer slavery thing, which is completely fine (except for the times it isn't I guess). Like it's basically the weirdest and most uncomfortable part of Star War's setting imported near whole-cloth only like the regular mindwipes are justified because otherwise they'll full Durandal and you don't want that do you? Look how happy and content they are being forced to think like humans while acting as loyal servants. Btw Union is somehow even less denazified than West Germany. Significantly so. They literally gave Hitler Corp. (a fucking weapons manufacturer so powerful they call it a "corpro-state"!) a seat at the UN. While allowing their Blue Helmets to keep using those Nazi-made weapons. And like Third Comm is repeatedly described as doing basically the same shit that Second Comm did but with more "Care" or whatever so don't worry it's fine now.

Like I can just keep going on and on like I'm not making this up this isn't some like weird expansion this is all from the core rulebook. I get that there has to be conflict and tension but like why did they need to make their ostensible good guys so fucking awful like these are the people you're meant to feel good about fighting for why did you need to fill them with the sort of details you'd see in some cautionary dystopia? And like why do actual people keep defending these guys? Like once you get down to it Union manages to be less Space Sweden and more* "The Ottoman Empire with Pronouns"

*to borrow a phrase coined by a mate while we were talking about this

#lancer

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months

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Hi, I’m A.D., I’m a historian, and let’s talk about the nuclear bomb and why the one that exploded at the end of QSMP’s Purgatory Event probably didn’t kill all that many people upon initially exploding.

The nuclear bomb, as everybody knows, has only ever been used in a war twice. Both explosions were caused by the United States in their war against Japan at the tail end of World War Two in one final terrible last ditch attempt at ending the war through any means necessary.

Pictured above are the atomic explosions at Hiroshima (left) and Nagasaki (right.)

These are big huge clouds, which makes sense! Nuclear weapons, on average, have the strength of somewhere between 10 and 50 megatons of TNT. Hydrogen bombs, meanwhile, are WAY worse, with the first test coming in at a whopping 10 MILLION tons of TNT.

To put it in Minecraft terms for all you nerds out there, imagine Doomsday from the Dream SMP and how it razed an entire nation to bedrock level by using somewhere in the range of 20 stacks of TnT (if I’m remembering correctly.) A nuclear bomb, in these terms, would have blown L’Manberg up something like eight times over and then some.

So that’s. Bad. Right?

Well, here’s the QSMP’s bomb as was constructed by our favorite depressed detective, q!Maximus:

This bomb, notably, is underground. It was never dug up, it was just moved somewhere else. It isn’t above ground, and it never left this room. Watch the cutscene back (linked here), the bomb never left the room.

So this is where underground nuclear testing comes in.

Underground testing began in 1951, and it remains the only form of scientific nuclear testing not banned by the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

No big surprise, a lot of early underground tests were conducted by the US out in Nevada, where they kinda tested nukes legit fucking EVERYWHERE in the desert for a long time. Below are some photos, just for funsies:

What’s important about underground nuclear explosions is that they actually end up releasing less radiation into the atmosphere than regular nukes do. What happens beyond that depends on whether or not the radiation remains contained.

A contained explosion’s aftermath:

And an uncontained explosion’s aftermath:

There hasn’t really been many negative biological effects reported from these underground tests, which is really saying something considering how close to nuclear blasts the US had its guys at most of the time (see below)

The worst you got out of the underground tests was some radioactivity in cows’ milk, which is NOTHING compared to the effects of the above-ground nuclear testing at the Nevada Site:

So… what does this mean for the QSMP?

Well, if we’re going off of historical and scientific precedent, legitimately nothing substantial happened to the islands of Purgatory. There’s more of a risk of dying from the pre-established radioactive rain disaster effects as well as the earthquake and meteor disasters.

Fun fact! Underground nuclear explosions usually registered as weaker than actual fault line activity, aka actual earthquakes.

If Maxo’s nuke was dropped from above, the devastation would be greater. Nuclear fallout is no joke; even today, cancer rates in the American West are still pretty high from the above-ground testing conducted at the Nevada Site. The Bikini Atoll will never be the same after all the testing the US did there, either.

But, because this nuke seemed to have gone off underground, I can safely assume that the damage done to the islands above was minimal at worst. Maybe there’s a radioactivity leak, but everybody staying on the islands had already experienced radiation up to that point.

It’s important to remember this because several characters did stay behind on the islands, and the fandom is assuming them dead because, well. A nuke went off. But those characters aren’t dead yet (outside of q!Maxo, who was possibly directly above the nuke when it went off and thus would’ve been hit full-force by the explosion.) Many were on the beach, far from the the nuke. They’re fine, and you can prove it with history!

TLDR; the nuke from the end of Purgatory was assumedly set off underground, which would have negated a lot of its potential damage, so everybody’s fine except for the unfortunately deceased q!Maxo

#long post #qsmp #I’m not a nuke expert BUT I do specialize in the Cold War

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velvetures · 6 months

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Heya I absolutely adore your writing and I would looove to request something like the “vulnerable” fic you wrote about ghost, but for könig instead. So much fluff and so many praises for our pretty boy, since I feel like he would show us his face but he’d be really anxious and self conscious about it. Feel free to decide if u wanna add nsfw content or not, I’m happy with whatever :))

Touch starved, intimacy craving cod boys will be the death of me 😔

Thank you in advance c:

Defenseless

a/n: so sorry I'm answering this so late, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🩶 this isn't the most in-depth... but I really tried to get the feels of it. summary: The Colonel has been stated as having something up his ass for nearly a week. no tw's that i know of...

The Colonel had been unusually insufferable for over a week at this point.

Barking demands, snarling at everyone in his path, making a total bloodbath out of the one mission assigned to him, and practically punishing all of his men during the two training sessions he’d deemed mandatory. He was on a tirade unlike anything you’d been witness to before, and there was hardly a place to escape from him. That only place being the garage which you had not-so-coincidentally been holed-up in after receiving a vehicle that was for less of better description… utterly fucked. But budget apparently didn’t allow for a replacement, so you’d been sent out to fix the helpless machine.

You didn’t necessarily consider yourself “co-workers” in the normal sense. You didn’t share office memos, or even work in office cubicles that shared a flimsy divider. The majority of your work with him came down to managing the transport to and from the base to their mission insertions. Be it helo or armor-truck, you were licensed and proficient. It gave you one of the most important jobs on base… Transporting the most dangerous men that KORTAC could throw at an enemy. And their massive, intimidating, hooded Colonel was included.

“I heard him chewing into a private’s ass for standing in front of his office door while he was sitting inside… with the door shut.” You overheard one of the mechanics chuckling from underneath of an LUV that had a leaking brake line.

A couple of the other guys joined in the conversation, ignoring your presence for all intensive purposes. You could only imagine that they were doing so simple because of how well attached you were to König in a more personal relationship. It had been nothing but professional and regulatory, but the sight of you lingering around the Colonel for more than absolutely necessary raised plenty of eyebrows around base. It just worked out that you had your entire top half of your body twisted in the engine bay of an MMPV that had taken enough IED damage to need a lot of maintenance and replacements. A pain in the ass you had been fussing over for hours just today; not even thinking about the fact that you’d been engrossed in the job for nearly a week.

“What’d you think Major?” One of the men calling out to you brought your attention away from a replacement coil-on-plug system sitting in a box, not touched yet on the wheel well to your right.

“About what?” You feign interest, not wanting to be caught listening in on conversation.

“The Colonel,” He clarified. “You seen whatever it is that has a stick up his ass sideways?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t make a habit of checking the Colonel’s asshole…” If it’s not clear in your tone that you’re quite finished with the conversation, he doesn’t take notice.

“You’re pretty close with him aren’t you? Can’t you put in a good word for everyone on base… he’s practically frothing at the mouth!”

“I’m not a damn veterinarian either, Johns.” You warn, losing a bit of your patience.

It was one thing for König to swing his weight around like they were suggesting… it was another for him to have been struggling with something far more stressful than normal. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time a soldier took out frustration of the job on his fellow officers. Especially if he got a reality check that displayed just how fragile the system really was in times of actual strain. Not that you’d even had the chance to see him since this “tirade” began, but you could only imagine that something more than the obvious was going on behind that bleach-stained hood over his head.

Girly gossip from the small group of mechanics went on long into the evening. Theories stretching from a mission gone bad to some kind of personal insult from a superior. While the solutions to his “problem” oftentimes resulted in some kind of reference to his sex life being dry, or outright nonexistent. It all sounded ridiculous to you between cranks of your socket wrench or the occasional shrill of an impact drill.

Thankfully you could shut out the sounds for the most part, but by the time you’d found a decent stopping place, the sky outside the hangar had blackened for the night and the temperature dropped far enough that your breath misted in front of your face. It was plenty late enough to head back to your quarters and get enough sleep before being right back under the hood at first light without feeling totally miserable. You didn’t expect to run into the Colonel on your way back to your room.

From the way he walked alone, you could tell that he was exhausted. The toes of his boots skimming the ground a little more than normal, as well as the slight hunch is his typically unforgiving posture. König looked like he’d had his ass kicked before being asked to dig his own grave and crawl out of it. Hearing everyone complaining about his sour mood made even more sense than before, and you couldn’t blame him for sharing around the misery. Besides, he was one of the highest-ranking people on base… it was his reluctant responsibility to deal with people almost every second of the day.

He deserved a damn break…

“Hey! Colonel!” You called out just loud enough to make him stop. Begin careful enough to not just call him by his first time in the case that someone was listening in. His head snapped in your direction and he stiffened for a moment before recognizing you in the dark shadows of the night and parking lot lamps.

“Major…”

Chills rose on your skin hearing his roughened voice rolling your title off his tongue. He wasn’t the slightest aggressive, and you couldn’t quite decide if he was just sparing you his anger, or just worn himself down too much to care. You jog the distance between you, feeling some tension in your lower back from being bent over that damn truck all day. Hopefully it wouldn’t make König’s notice… he was always very particular about injuries or overuse with his direct-connection officers.

“Wie war dein Tag?” His eyes crinkle at the corners like he’s smiling under his hood.

At least that’s what you imagine he’s doing.

“It was alright,” You nod giving him a smile. “Working on your MMPV. It’s in a hell of a state, and I’m not sure I can fix her.” You mutter a bit quieter, mind drifting to the vehicle and the limited amount of actual repairs you could do without needing some additional parts or funding allotted for the repairs. König seemed to pick up on it for a moment, but he also ended up having half of his mind somewhere else for the time being.

“I understand…” You couldn’t be sure if he meant simple exhaustion or a shared feeling of being much in the same state as your armored car. “I’m certain with your attention, it will do more than survive the blow.”

You giggle softly, resting your hands on your hips and digging your thumbs into your lower back as nonchalantly as possible to hide the way your digits pressed and rubbed at the immense pressure building right above your hipbones. Your shared mental and physical abuse wasn’t the slightest bit new. It always felt like when you got to see König for any respectable amount of time something was wrong with one or both of you. Normally, it made for plenty of good jokes and light teasing. A good one didn’t come to mind, and the Colonel didn’t appear in the mood for banter either. Really, his voice didn’t even sound like it wanted to be present. Fading in and out of gravelly and growled tones between German-accented syllables.

“Are you retiring for the night?” His blonde eyebrow raised up above the ripped eyehole of his mask. You spared a glance at the roof which shielded your quarters from the elements. Damn near two-hundred yards away, as well. You hated thinking about the walk.

“Yeah, I figure I should head that way. It’ll take me fifteen minutes to get there if I don’t drag myself across the concrete like I want to.”

König chuckles lowly, bringing another smile to your face. You hoped it was a decent relief from what was bothering him so badly to make base feel like a war zone. The thought of being his first sign of something positive in days only intensified your joy of the thought. He takes his own glance in the direction of your rooms and then looks back to you with something of an appraising edge. Even scanning the immediate area for good measure before visibly losing some of the façade hiding his exhaustion.

“Drill in the morning?” He asks quieter, nodding his head for you to follow alongside him.

“No. Just working on that damn truck…” He chuckles again, giving you a softer look out of the corner of his eye.

“You can always stay with me,” He says quite a bit more offhanded than the offer really was.

There was no fucking way regulation would stand for it even if it was nothing more than a platonic pajama party. The mere thought of “the Major” and “the Colonel” being spotted leaving the same bedroom after a night alone would have them both court-martialed and discharged. Yet König handed out the offer easier than he could hand out candy to small children on Halloween. It spun you for a loop. Resulting in your feet welding themselves to the ground and your eyes widening as you turn to look up at him in question as to if you’d actually heard him correctly.

“Stay with you… stay… like, overnight?” The sentence alone felt so forbidden yet enticing in your mouth. König shrugs. A little more of his tension developing in his shoulders as you visibly see himself second-guessing such an intimate thing quite randomly.

“It was just an offer, Major.” He clarifies. “My quarters are much closer to your garage… and I’ve got everything you might need for one night away from your own bed.” He added with a soothing kind of tone.

But it left you just as anticipatory. He wasn’t this forward. At least, not in such a personal way. He didn’t phrase things this… domestic, directly and he sure as hell hadn’t ever thought to try it on you above all others. There was something more to this, and it wasn’t just due to the distance to your own quarters compared to his. A benefit for him lingered somewhere just below the surface of truth he’d been willing to speak about. Naturally, you weren’t about to take the first step in pushing him. So instead, you took the choice of playing the long game and allowing him to take the lead.

He is your superior officer, after all.

“You know… I might just take you up on those amenities, Colonel.”

His eyes crinkle again, giving you a second opportunity to wonder what his pretty mouth must look like when he smiles.

“If you stay, my rank stays outside. I don’t prefer answering to a title in my own home.” His low voice rumbles with an affectionate tone. One that makes you nod your head automatically, like he’d whispered some spell over you.

“Of course, sir.”

His quarters weren’t what you expected.

Instead of the typical grey walls and standard furniture, he’d went about the process of either collecting some more personal things or brought them from wherever he’d lived before now. The bed was actually massive, swallowing your position that a king size bed was more than large enough. The four posts around it had been stained a dark, ash kind of color over heavily grained wood. A desk sat over against the wall underneath of the one window in the room and while it was stained the same color, carved designs on the drawers and feet were different from the bed frame style. The walls were void of any pictures or art, bit there was enough personal touches scattered around that it pieced together a bit more of the mystery behind the Colonel’s personal life.

“It’s really nice,” Your compliment falls into the room softly, almost like you’re attempting to keep the atmosphere untouched by your presence. “Where’d you get all of your things from?” It wasn’t until after asking that you realized it might be too personal of a question considering his attitude.

He looked around and shrugged. “Antique stores,” He ran a gloved hand over the top of a nightstand next to him. “I liked the idea of fixing things… and I had the knowledge of how to do it.” Your insides twisted in interest at the idea of König being well-versed in woodworking. Images of the massive man knelt down with sandpaper and reaching the smallest nooks in the carved wood. Meticulous. Unwilling to take a shortcut… it made more sense the longer you thought about it. He walked up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders gently, letting out a deep breath.

“I didn’t… invite you here just for convenience.” He admitted a bit shyly, fingers twitching to squeeze your shoulders just a little harder.

Ah, there it is…

“What did you let me in for?” You reply, turning to look over your shoulder and up at him with a friendly little smile. “Because I know it wasn’t for chocolates on the pillows and breakfast in bed when I wake up.”

Those big, dark, eyes glittered a little. Framing just a small bit of humor in an otherwise dark, painted and highly guarded expression in a well-defended man. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place. Hs ability to find some softness in an otherwise harsh and cruel world of voluntary service to country. A damn shame he’d found this world instead of another one that would be more welcoming… less bloody… but then again. You’d also found this world too, even if it was your pathway to simple drive into warzones instead of running into them with a rifle and a desire to be the last man standing.

“I need some… help.” He could see the question and concern on your face, but instead of even uttering a single word, he just moves away from you and sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes polarize away from you and down to the gloves that he began struggling to get off with slightly trembling hands.

You debated. Tossing around so many ideas in your head that you began dropping them. Juggling too many problems and possible solutions all at once. Hoping that he would speak up, or give you some sort of help. König wasn’t the best talker. Never had been really, but often he’d give away something that let you in on the issues in his mind. He was a stone wall tonight. Sitting like a marble statue with nothing more than softened eyes looking away from you with a palpable desire for help; yet no ability within himself to say how. The first thing you didn’t like was that he still had on all of that gear. Between the flak jacket with all of his spare mags, the helmet, steel-toed boots, multiple holsters and a slew of other things, there was far too much on him for you to get close enough to finding a crack in that armor.

“Can I?” Stepping closer, and pointing towards his helmet you ask gently, testing his comfort. He just nods, not even willing to look up at you to check what you were even wanting to do.

You unbuckle it carefully, not wanting to tug on his hood and sit it down next to him on the bed. But right as you sit it down, you see him reach up and tug the material off to drop it down inside the helmet. His blonde hair is a mess. A bit sweaty and matted down from a days work, it falls over his forehead and down to his nose. It softens the stark color of black face paint smeared over the whole top half of his face. The process of breaking down the soldier piece-by-piece takes less than five minutes, and that even included a small fight over whether or not you should be allowed to take off his boots due to how “demeaning” he felt it would look to have you kneel down in front of him like that. Thoughtful as you found the idea, you still pointed out he was your superior officer and it only made sense that you take care of the “unimportant” tasks for him. What you really didn’t know what that he watched you unlace his boots with every intention of letting you know that it felt even more intimate than letting you be one of the few people who could see his face in typical circumstances.

“That’s better… right?” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair to try and unstick the hair stuck together with sweat.

He nods. “Ja, viel besser.”

You smile at his German, sitting down next to him close enough that your thigh presses against his and your shoulder rests tightly next to him. “How about you take shower? I think washing off the day might help out a bit.”

König shakes his head no and quickly decides on a better idea. One that ends up with you laying flat on your back and a 6’10 man laying with his head on your stomach and his body nestled between your legs. His arms stay bent by his sides, resting weight on his elbows to resist laying his entire weight on you but his hands palm both sides of your ribs intentionally. His fingertips pressing between the dips of your ribs and the warm exhale of his breaths fanning against your stomach. It feels uncommonly desperate. Sensing the undeniable behavior of a man needing touch. Closeness from another human instead of the victory of a battle alone, or the knowledge that he’d lived another day without dying a horrible death. That thought alone has you wrapping your arms around his head and holding him tightly. Cradling him as well as you can to make him feel safe and protected even though his feet are hanging off the bed. Your heart pinches in regret that you’d not thought of coming to see him sooner. At least defending him in front of the others who’d been hellbent on making him out to be an asshole for having such a rough week.

Fuck.

He’d almost groveled like a puppy on its belly for you to touch him.

“You smell like cinnamon,” He mutters with his mouth slurred in the extra fabric of your shirt. “I like that… reminds me of my mother’s cinnamon rolls.” The memory is audible; softening his words and making that German accent thicker with exhaustion and comfort of being wrapped up in your arms.

You giggle very softly, pushing his hair off his face. “I’m surprised I don’t smell like grease.”

“Nein… du riechst wie zu hause.” His reply is gravelly and warm.

You close your eyes and settle back against the bed. “You know I don’t know German well enough to understand that…” He laughed softly, squeezing your sides with his massive hands.

“Do you think I’m not aware?” A laugh escaped you and as a retaliation you tapped the top of his head in a small, soft, shun. “I like saying things to you in German… it makes saying the truth easier sometimes.”

When his hands slid further under your body to fully encompass your waist, he buried his nose into your stomach and took a deep, relaxed breath. Nuzzling tighter into you and rubbing his face into your shirt like he was attempting to rub his scent and face paint off on your shirt. Neither option sounded the least bit bad. Wishing that he would fully immerse himself in you if it would make him feel better. Ease that misery festering in the back of his mind. Beginning to settle in, you started running your fingertips up and down his back. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt as you went, and tracing out the defined lines on his shoulder blades and rippled lats stretching over his ribs. Each pass either smoothing the pads of your fingertips, or giving him a slight scratch with blunted nails. Earning some German mutters and contented grumbles vibrating against your stomach.

“Du kilngst… wie ein… bär.” Your German feels quite juvenile, but König’s short huff of amusement gives you enough satisfaction that the lighthearted jab had reached him. He nips at your hip with his teeth, making you jump in surprise and giggle nervously.

“Isn’t there a saying… ‘don’t poke the bear?’.”

“I thought you were a King, not a bear?”

He shakes his head, a little slow on a comeback. “Either way, I’ll prove my dominance.”

You chuckle softly. “Don’t bother, I’m more than content to stay just like this.” You hum, returning to the smooth up and down movement of your hands on his wide expanse of a back.

“I’m happy to stay like this as well,” He mutters, stretching out a bit more. “However, I don’t like where you are.” Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly, you freeze for a moment.

“I can move if you’d like?”

Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly. He shifts a bit, putting more weight back onto his knees with a small grunt before snatching you up far enough to roll you onto your side and settle himself behind you as if you weren’t any bigger than a teddy bear meant for pure comfort and warmth. A muscled and tattooed arm vicegrips your chest and the other arm slides under your head to prop up your head. Instantly turning the role of comfort you’d been happy to provide into a much different situation.

“Can’t do much laying like this.” You protest a bit, attempting to turn over to face him so you can at least return to touching him.

“No, you fit right… shaped to me.” He slurs; tightened his grip and shook his head, resting his nose right in the crook of your neck. One hand slides under your shirt and reaches up far enough to rest his forearm against your chest and make a half-collar around your neck with his hand. He feels hot to the touch, and while you would’ve shied away from any other man touching you in such a way, König doing it felt right. As if there was something connecting you to him other than a simple recognition of the desire for a human connection that wasn’t painful. A different kind of dominance, creating a safe place for himself, but also for you in the way the curve of his hand fit right at the base of your throat.

“Touching you like this… it makes me feel more powerful than any firefight I’ve won.” He states, further resting his upper body against your back. “Like all of the mistakes i’ve made were worth making; just so I could have a moment to feel invincible laying in my own bed.”

It’s deep. Touching. Reaching right down into the bottom of your soul and wrenching it with an iron-grip so warm that you feel a heat rise in your throat.

“That sounds like something you should tell a woman you love, not just me.” You whisper, sliding your own hand under your shirt to hold his hand.

As if he could, he attempts to pull you tighter against him.

“I just did.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

#könig #könig x reader #kortac #konig mw2 #konig cod #anon ask #anon answered #anon <3 #velvetures #velvetures writes #anon request

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