Tumgik
#i actually like how these two frames turned out
rebelfell · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
urgent.
eddie munson x fem!reader
"I want it to be urgent. Like you can't keep your hands off me."
Smut blurb featuring no *actual* smut, in which Eddie is doing his best to help you get over your ex. Cause that's what friends are for. Right? cw: drinking/smoking, references to sex acts.
18+ MDNI 2.8k
Tumblr media
“Alright, that’s it. I need another.”
The cushions of Eddie’s well-worn sofa bounced beneath you as he stood, sighing as he headed to the kitchen. His shaggy hair flew up as he glanced back at you with a playful twinkle in his eye that fully betrayed his attempt to sound irate.
“Can’t believe you talked me into watching this shit,” he added with a scoff, indicating the movie flickering on his television screen.
With a quiet giggle, you tucked your legs further up underneath you and squished deeper into your seat. The smile on your face only widened when he returned carrying two new bottles, one of which he passed into your waiting hand.
He’d successfully bribed you into coming over for a long overdue movie night by texting a picture of his fridge that was almost barren except a case of your favorite beer and a couple boxes of day-old pizza captioned, “how can you resist???”
Evidently, you couldn’t. Hence your arrival at his door not even an hour later, swathed in baggy sweats and a giant hoodie without a speck of make-up on your face. Your uniform of late.
“She lives!”
He bellowed in his mad scientist best, practically dragging you through the door to wrap you up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack your bones and made your lungs ache as they attempted to draw air—as if he thought he could wring the sadness out of you like a sponge.
Admittedly, it had been too long since you’d seen him. And not just him, but any of your friends.
For weeks now, you’d been using excuses of work and needing to catch up on laundry or cleaning to avoid facing them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see people. You just knew any attempt to hang out would only lead to questions about your recent break-up.
Questions you didn’t have the answers to, nor the mental capacity to tackle.
Eddie was a safe bet in that regard.
He’d always had what you could only call a morbid curiosity about your love life. If he asked about it, he did so in such a way that it made you feel like he was sort of dreading the answer? Like checking under a shoe to make sure a spider was really dead. You had figured that he of all people wouldn’t press you for too many details.
It was as close to a perfect evening as possible.
The remaining half of the joint you shared still sat smoldering in the ashtray on the coffee table. The two of you basked in the rosy glow of Christmas lights strung up on the walls he had yet to take down even as summer rapidly approached.
Beer and pizza sat in your belly, it and the weed only making the travesty of a bad movie you had basically bullied him into watching all the funnier.
You’d almost, almost, forgotten about your current tragic circumstances. And then…
“We can talk about it, you know,” Eddie said during a quiet stretch of the movie.
He instantly clocked the stiffening of your spine and the tensing of your shoulders he knew had nothing to do with the appearance of the killer following a side character down an alley.
“We don’t have to,” he went on, forcibly keeping his eyes forward like he was talking to the guy on screen now getting gutted, “I’m just saying if you wanted to, we could. Or we can just keep drinking and watching this garbage.”
With a laugh, he indicated the screen again.
The killer completed his deed and the wide shot revealed a painfully obvious dummy version of his victim lying on the ground beneath him. You were also pretty sure a boom mic dipped into frame.
It made you chuckle along with him and you turned your head, finding his doe eyes shining in that annoyingly endearing way of his that never failed to soften you to his whims.
“It wasn’t anything bad-bad,” you muttered, half talking to yourself. “He was just sort of…selfish.”
“Selfish how?” Eddie asked, brow knitting in confusion. “Like he hogged the covers? What?”
“No, like…”
Your cheeks burned as you stared at your hands in your lap, your thumbnail scraping against the pulpy label of your beer bottle that had begun to sweat profusely the longer it went un-drunk.
“Like in bed,” you said at last. “He didn’t ever go down on me, or do much of anything other than jump straight to fucking. And it was always over very…quick. Once he came, it was right back to business as usual. He wouldn’t check in with me or even me ask what I—”
Your voice wavered slightly and you clamped your mouth closed, forcing back the bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth. With a deep and steadying breath, you finished your thought.
“I just didn’t feel like a priority.”
The detached tone was one you’d been working on for weeks. You knew eventually you’d have to crawl out of the hole you’d banished yourself into and when you did, you would have to sound okay with the fact that you’d been burned yet again by another guy you foolishly got your hopes up for.
Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. He shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing.
“Did he ever give a reason? I mean, did he…”
Eddie trailed off, not sure what he was getting at.
Because what kind of person had to be told to make their partner a priority? To make them feel important? Beyond just pleasure, beyond just making them come. How could anyone be lucky enough to land you and not do anything and everything they could to make it work?
His eyes bored into the coffee table, unable to lift his head to look you in the eye. It was hard for you to read the expression on his face. It looked like a cocktail of all the different things you had felt during your isolation. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Disgust. Pity.
“We talked about it.” I talked about it, you wanted to say. “But he wasn’t interested in changing, so I said we should end it. And we did.”
Your words seemed to hang in the air after you said them. Eddie stayed silent a few moments longer, seemingly deep in thought. The movie played on, but the words and pictures both sort of blurred into static neither of you were paying much attention to anymore.
“That’s awful,” he said at last. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes darted up, surprised by the softness in his voice. The soothing, calming reassurance thing was much more Nancy’s speed. You knew Eddie could be sweet, but it was always buried under a million layers of sarcasm the same way he hid himself behind the armor of his leather jacket and denim vest. By the look on his face, he’d surprised himself as well.
“He’s a fuckin’ loser,” he grumbled, almost angry. “You were right to dump him.”
“Maybe,” you sighed back, staring down at your lap again. The swishing of Eddie’s curls told you he was shaking his head emphatically.
“There’s no maybe about it,” he insisted, tipping his beer back to take a long swig. “If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you he doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, s’far as I’m concerned.”
The tiniest smile emerged on your lips when you heard the little southern drawl that crept into his voice whenever he got a bit worked up. It makes him sound like his uncle Wayne grumbling about the noisy neighborhood kids or “those damn bureaucrats with their burea-crock-a-shits.”
“Thanks,” you said, nodding weakly. “I know it was the right decision and all, I just…it all feels so fucking hopeless. Even if I find another guy who seems nice, who knows if he’ll stay that way? I don’t want to just fuck a bunch of frogs on the off-chance one of them is a prince.”
Eddie snorted, nearly spraying the sip of beer he’d just taken out of his nose as you went on.
“The worst part is I’m so, like…”
You shook your head as you laughed in disbelief, hiding your face with your hand as it flushed with heat at what you had almost blurted out. Were you really about to say this?
His brown eyes danced under arched brows. He smirked, daring you to say it. Fuck it.
“I’m so pent up, my vibrator is gonna file a complaint for hazardous working conditions.”
“Maybe you need a new vibrator,” Eddie suggested. Or someone new behind the wheel.
You shoved his shoulder playfully, wide smiles spreading across both your faces. He grabbed at your wrist, wrestling your hand away and bringing it towards his mouth, feigning like he was going to bite. Squealing giggles erupted out of you as you pulled it back and he gnashed at the air.
Breathless from laughing, you settled back into your seat and inhaled deeply a few times trying to catch your breath. Eddie brought his hands back to his lap and looked down, allowing a small smile at seeing your face light up like it just had.
He’d do anything to see you like that.
“I will say,” you started, absently drawing circles on the arm of the couch, avoiding his gaze as his eyes jumped to your face, “It would be so great to get, like…one good night. You know, just scratch the itch so I can think clearly for once.”
Eddie paused, mulling again.
What he meant to say was…what if it was with someone you knew? Someone familiar you were comfortable with? Someone you knew you could trust to take care of you? What if it was someone you had known a long time, who cared about you and would put you first the way you deserved?
But the words that actually came out were—
“I could do it.”
“You…what?”
He knows that sound. That nervous, breathy little exhale that just came out of you. You blinked at him, stunned into silence as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. Eddie shrugged.
“I’m just saying, you don’t want to fuck a stranger. And I’m certainly not a stranger, so…”
He gestured vaguely at himself with his hands, a goofy little movement that had you rolling your eyes and tssing at him through your teeth.
“Eddie, don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid!” he exclaimed, only to stop and reconsider. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. But I'm also being serious. You’re my friend and I wanna help you out. However I can.”
“You seriously think…” You shook your head. “I mean, are you even attracted to me?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he groaned, “is that even a question?”
“No, Ed, I’m serious. Really think about it.”
So, Eddie thought about it.
He thought about that two-piece you wore that one sticky-hot summer day when you all piled into he and Argyle’s vans and drove out to Lover’s Lake to swim. He thought about how he had to keep reminding himself not to stare and how his shorts got so uncomfortably tight until he had to fuck off into the trees for ten minutes to take care of himself. And how when he got back, he had endured everyone’s teasing about taking a shit in the woods—because he would much rather they thought that was what he was doing instead of jerking off in front of some voyeuristic squirrel.
He thought about the way your lips wrapped around the end of every joint he’d ever shared with you and how his heart would race when you asked him for a shotgun. He thought about that one time he was sick as shit and had that fever dream about you in a nurses outfit he’d torn off you piece by piece, kissing you all over your body until you were writhing underneath him crying out his name until he woke with a violent jolt and had to throw his sheets in the wash at 4am.
And now not only was he extremely sure he was attracted to you, he also had a significant piece of evidence to back up his claim.
“I think it’s safe to say I am,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat.
Your eyes flitted down to his lap and you inhaled sharply at the sight of his growing bulge and the piss-poor job his thin sweats did of concealing it. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it and you simply had to laugh at the absurdity. If only it hadn’t come out so breathy and nervous…
“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering to a suggestive timbre as he scooted in closer. “Are you attracted to me? Really think about it.”
Your pulse thrummed as your eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. Cutoff sleeves that showed off his taught arms, inked all over with scratcher tattoos. Narrow hips sort of mesmerizing in the way they swiveled whenever he played guitar on stage. Fingers that moved dazzlingly fast over the strings and had made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like for him to play Master of Puppets on your pussy.
It made your mouth flood with saliva, and other wetness gush between your legs.
“What if…we kissed?” he asked slowly, his eyes locked so intently on your lips you could almost feel the heat of his gaze on them. “Just to see? Just in case?”
In case of what?
You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come. You were too breathless as he drew you in.
You’ve seen Eddie kiss girls before.
Whether it was out at a random dive bar after his band played, or some house party in a house you didn’t recognize. You’ve seen how he cups their faces in his hands, large grasp nearly engulfing their entire head. You’ve seen the way his eyes hooded and how that insufferably smug, knowing smile of his turns up the corners of his mouth as he goes in for the kill. You’ve seen how his fingers spread wide to cradle their heads as they gave into him and felt the way it made something stir, however briefly, deep in the pit of your belly.
But you’ve never been that girl. It’s never been your face in his hands or your lips parting, waiting for the touch of his. And now that it’s happening…you don’t have any idea why you waited so long.
His mouth is gentler than you thought it would be, his lips soft and smooth as two pink petals of some flower you can’t name. You can feel the distinctness of their shape moving against your own and can still taste the malt of your favorite beer in his mouth, but the combination makes it into something new—something unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before.
You can just barely feel the tip of his tongue swiping at the entrance of your lips and it’s purely instinctual the way you open up for him to grant him access. He moans softly into your mouth, a plaintive little noise that sets your blood on fire. Suddenly, you’re possessed. Fisting his shirt in your grasp, dragging him with you as you lean backwards and sink deep into the cushions.
“I take it we’ve got the green light?” he asks in a throaty chuckle.
You answer by pulling him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in the hairs that run along the nape of his neck, twisting his curls in your grasp as you tug him back onto your mouth.
His hand wandered downwards, dipping into your sweats to cup your heat over your panties, his two middle fingers stroking at the arousal gathering there. His touch is teasingly light and yet he has you held firmly in his grasp, just enough to have you mewling into his mouth seeking more.
“Tell me exactly how you want it,” he groaned as he peppered hot kisses along the column of your throat, his voice soft but solid. “I want it to be just what you need. Just how you like it.”
You swallowed hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts with his teeth nipping so sweetly at your neck, and all the rings on his fingers pressing into your skin as he squeezed the curve of your waist. And through the haze his touch and teeth and lips created in your head, you managed an answer.
“I…I want it to be urgent. Like you can’t keep your hands off of me,” you sucked in another breath, “Like I’m all you’ve ever wanted.”
Eddie’s head lifted and you tensed just slightly under his reverent gaze. His eyes drifted across your face, all round and glassy and searching, as if he was trying to memorize every inch.
And then, as immediately as he’d paused, he was burying his face in your neck again, body grinding into yours with a newfound sense of desperation as he growled out a single word,
“Done.”
Tumblr media
thank you for reading :) love you, mean it!
571 notes · View notes
peachhcs · 2 days
Note
a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!
charm bracelet
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)
2.1k words
i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!
au masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.
"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.
"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.
"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."
"promise?"
"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.
two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.
gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.
"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.
"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.
"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.
"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.
"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.
"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.
the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.
things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.
"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.
samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."
"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.
"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.
"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.
"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.
samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.
being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.
"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.
will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.
she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.
the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.
somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.
"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.
"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.
"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.
"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.
"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.
"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.
"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.
"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.
"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.
"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.
"have you talked to him since.."
"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.
"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.
"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.
"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.
samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.
god, what happened to that will?
"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.
while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.
"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.
"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.
"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.
a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.
"you and me both," samy frowned this time.
"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.
the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.
"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.
the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.
her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.
samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.
"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.
"who?"
mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.
"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.
the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.
there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.
her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.
will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.
she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.
she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.
samy even wondered how long he's had it for.
without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.
132 notes · View notes
sunflower-lilac42 · 2 days
Text
𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 | 𝘫𝘥9 ♔
Tumblr media
➪ summary: after jamie gets traded, his girlfriend falls into a depressive state and he has to help her out of it
➪ warnings: jamie's trade, depression
➪ word count: 1.3k
➪ file type: fic
➪ sunny's notes: ah one of the many fics i wrote when i was in my own depressive state - funsises. eh, i actually like this one so yay i guess
nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation
Tumblr media
They both knew it was coming. She had been off for a couple of days and she had this overwhelming feeling looming at the back of her mind. It had been almost a month since Jamie got traded to the Flyers, and Jamie was taking it better than she was. When Jamie told her her heart shattered at the realization that her boyfriend would now be on the opposite side of the country as her.
Jamie tried to make sure that she wouldn’t transfer schools just so she would be closer to him but deep down he wanted to be selfish and make her do it, he needed her by his side. Before she ultimately decided to transfer schools she took the whole month of January off to be with him and for herself. She had a feeling that this was going to happen soon, that she was going to take a 180 and plummet into the ground. 
Jamie knew it too. He saw the early signs of her depression seeping in, the lack of wanting to go out, the lack of making an effort to even get ready in the morning, the more time she spent wrapped in the covers of his bed. Her eyes were more red and sunken in, and her cheeks were pale but also sometimes were flush pink from the heat that she endured being trapped under the covers. Her hair was starting to become matted from the lack of care it had received.
He felt horrible, but she did as well. Her boyfriend had just gotten traded out of the blue, no warning, no nothing. Just boom, on January 5th, 2024 Jamie got the call as soon as they touched down on the runway. He had barely any time to settle in before he was on the ice for the Flyers practice two days later. She shouldn’t be burdening him with this, not when he had so much going on.
Jamie couldn’t care less, sure he felt off about what had just happened to him but his girlfriend was not herself. And that was his main priority. To make sure that she was okay, that she was safe. He never wanted her to feel like this, he never wanted anyone to feel like this. It wasn’t something that anyone should have to go through. 
He had just gotten home from practice, it was an off day and y/n was still in his apartment. He threw his keys in the trinket dish she had bought for him, claiming that he needed to be tidy in his new home. He took off his jacket and hung it up before making his way over to the bedroom. He leaned on the door frame and watched as y/n curled more into herself than she had before, the comforter pulled up to her chin. His lips turned downward into a frown looking at her tear-stained cheeks.
He walked over to her side of the bed, squatting so his face would be level with hers. He placed a hand on her arm, slowly moving his thumb back and forth. Her eyes opened hesitantly and she was met with the face of her boyfriend who had a tiny smile on his face, “Hi baby.”
She just blinked at him, her face slightly giving off a glow as she realized he was home. She didn’t try to smile at him, knowing they would both know it was fake. She untucked one of her arms from the sheets and gave him a tiny wave. 
“How are you feeling?”
She shrugged, still not wanting to speak. This caused Jamie’s hopes to diminish a little bit but he didn’t let them go away completely. He brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, tucking it back behind her ear, “Do you want something to eat?”
She shook her head.
“How about we go take a bath?”
Once again, she shook her head. Jamie wasn’t getting frustrated per se, he knew how she got during her depression flashes. He just wished that sometimes she would at least try. He knew she couldn’t control when these things happened but that didn’t stop him from wishing that he could at least. He thought for a moment before speaking again, “Well how about this? If we go take a bath I promise you we can cuddle afterward and I will let you pick what we watch?”
She mulled over his proposal before accepting it, finally unwrapping the rest of her body from the sheets but he stopped her, “I’m going to go throw some things in the laundry, do you want to wait for me here or do you want to go start the bath?”
“Wait for you.” Her voice was the softest he had heard in a while but he was glad to hear her voice again. He smiled at her before standing up and kissing her head. He walked out of the room, grabbing one of his sweatshirts and some fresh sheets and throwing them in the dryer so they would be warm when they got out. 
He walked back into the room and smiled at her once again, holding out his hand for her to take. Once she put her hand in his, he led her to the bathroom and started the water. He helped her take off her clothes and once they were off he took his off as well. 
They sat in the bath for 40 minutes, both soaking up the quiet that they were in and being close together. He helped her out of the tub, letting her sit on the edge with a towel wrapped tightly around her. He lifted the drain and let the water go down it, drying himself off and throwing his sweatpants on. He looked at her with his usual calm expression, “You want me to untangle your hair for you?”
She nodded slightly and he walked out of the room to grab one of their chairs so she could sit down while he brushed her hair out. He placed it in front of the bathroom counter and he sat on the counter himself. He grabbed the comb from the drawer and applied the leave-in conditioner to her hair. He was gentle while doing it, not wanting to pull on her hair too hard. 
When he was done, he switched spots with her, “I’m going to go make some hot chocolate, do you want some? Or maybe some tea?”
“Hot chocolate please.” He smiled again, “You wanna come with me?”
She nodded, “Alright, let’s get you changed, pretty girl.”
Jamie left to grab the sweatshirt from the dryer, along with some other clothes for her to wear so she could choose. Jamie helped her put the new clothes on before he carried her into the kitchen so he could heat some water. He gave her a once over as she just sat there, eyes trained on the ground. “You want some graham crackers?”
She unknowingly smiled at him when she heard the question. Hot chocolate and graham crackers were one of her favorite snack combinations. When he saw the smile gracing her lips and smiled as well, “Hey, there’s my girl.”
He hugged her, standing in between her legs, “You feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
Once he finished making hot chocolate for the both of them and then making the bed with the new warm sheets, they curled up next to each other in the bed. Y/n made Jamie put on Beauty and the Beast and that’s how they spent the rest of the night. 
Tumblr media
⬂ 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
please message me if you didn't get tagged!
@if-my-heart-bleeds | @hearts-4-luke | @pucks-goals-penalties | @prettyinsatiable | @crazycat-ladys-blog | @piavettel33 | @bohemianrapshawty | @mikayladavis | @klkennedy | @hockeyboysarehot | @whoopwhoop123 | @dasiysthings | @rleigh-47 | @itsnotgray | @daisysnhl | @kei436 | @dyslecticdutchman | @hischier-papaya | @toasttt11 | @fratboyharrysgf0201 | @http-aatp | privatemythss | @biggiesmallspots | @kei943
@studio_reader | @zebraszegras | @eleutherafairy | @sleepybesson | @fearfam69691 | @skoolnites | @bunting58 | @francesfarhadi | @rumbletheracoon | @fallinallincurls | @cixrosie | @absolutelyhugh3s | @love4lando | @lausdigitaldiary | @livelovefanfics | @leighigh | @books-hlmc | @landoslover | @nonsensical-nonsense | @urmomsleftballsack86 | @bunbunbl0gs | @quinnylouhughesx43 | @alwaysclassyeagle | @flowergirl1134
@puckslxt | @ivy-34 | @barzygirl13 | @jjgsunflower
Tumblr media
58 notes · View notes
angelsstranger · 24 hours
Text
not to bitch and moan but today i (he/him tme transsexual dyke) remember my transmasc roommate of days past and the time he saw me wearing a skirt and said “if i dressed like that I would want to kill myself”
always sort of insinuating that a “real” trans person couldn’t be gender nonconforming..
and eventually of course devolving into the “trans women actually have more privilege than me somehow and i feel threatened by them” which turned into “in the future i dont want to live with AMABs again” yes that second one is a direct quote there was so much more to the convo it ended our friendship quite abruptly and messily.
but my point being transmascs using their own dysphoria and their bigotry they inherited from their family as a weapon against trans women is soo much more common than you think it is. this person was supposedly a leftist and was friends with/trying to date many trans women at the time. it unsettled me how he would imply he found these women untrustworthy at the time but also he approached specifically trans women again and again looking for their patience nurturing and support even asking them for money and favors. before again pivoting and returning to the i think shes a bit TOO into me and its creeping me out.
my takeaway was basically it is your responsibility to tell trans women if they are seeing or hanging out with someone who says terfy shit behind their back. protect your community to make sure nobody has to experience that type of violence (to be clear the violence im referring to here is: someone trans or cis who wants to date/sleep with trans women but continues to imply trans women are dangerous or untrustworthy, eventually discarding each woman they bring into their life for vague reasons which all stem back to transmisogyny)
i was so distracted by how every time i tried to discuss with HIM the harm he caused he would break down cryinf about how fragile he is and all the trauma in his life and i was hesitant to let my friends know the transphobic things he said about them because i thought it would hurt them a lot (ignorant on my behalf. once i finally told my friends i realized i should have warned EVERYONE the very first time i saw this behavior) i didn’t want to seem like i was shit talking him or being rude to the women he was seeing but by the end of our friendship that was one of my greatest regrets. I personally try to honor this mistake by fucking never letting something like this slide ever again and being a reliable friend to the trans women in my life by telling them honestly if i don’t trust someone i see them associating with. that type of passivity in our communities is something that also puts trans women at risk.
since coming back to tumblr ive seen a lot of transmascs harrasing trans women here and the sense of entitlement and the need to frame trans women as a threat to your individual comfort and safety is incredibly harmful and selfish. it reminds me of that shit i watched going down two years ago with my room mate and i really don’t like seeing terf ideology spread by other trans people. check yourself and imo leave trans women the fuck alone if you are still unlearning that shit. stop inviting trans women on dates and hangouts if behind their backs youre insinuating they are untrustworthy or violent in some way. that is so evil ok send post
61 notes · View notes
spotlightlowlife · 2 days
Text
Helluva gaslight
Cresent Full moon.
Tumblr media
Literally sat typing as this opening song plays. The first two minutes should convince anyone who isn't open to this show receiving criticism that they atleast missed something.
Why is Blitzø so enthused to hook up with Stolas?
Or is this simply what people expect because the ship comes before characters, ignoring the power imbalance and losers discomfort?
Well we get a simple answer. Blitzø is horny. Blitzø who easily hooks up with others is horny for Stolas, why, because it's been a while, a couple of months of Stolas passing up their usual transaction and simply offering him the book instead, which is conveniently something we have never been shown, which is a massive miss Blitzø is our main character and we couldn't see his first and second reaction to this major change and how it spilled into his daily life? All that matters is the drama that comes from him not giving Stolas his perfect answer?
On a lighter note, the cherubs are back.
Tumblr media
So are DORK, they now work together and blend into a singular non entity, but they have potential atleast, they're all rather cute in their uselessness. Turns out DORK are actually high up in government, they send priests and little child soldiers out to work these, have access to teleportation portals and generally a load of freedom and power, when previously they simply lived up to their company name?
Somehow though, they manage the miracle of achieving even less.
Team Rocket manage to look more professional and menacing, and I don't mean the competent team rocket from pokemon black and white, I mean the classic forks who's plans literally blow up in their face 99% of the time.
We are outright told that Blitzø now has freedom with an asmodean crystal but at the same time crystal owners are infact is under Ozzie's jurisdiction, something I wondered a while ago.
What are these rules and regulations?
Is there really no way he's now working for Ozzie?
Doubtful since anyone who is supposed to be liked can't do wrong, dispite this being hell with a hierarchy that we're reminded of but have yet to see in practice, despite Verosika using her crystal to cause debauchery amungst youth on earth and being responsible for a monster attack, despite Barbie using her crystal to market in the drug trade when even hell sees drug use as something bad. Where does Ozzie fit into this?
Another big miss because Blitzø now being in another sinister deal only this one being a contract he didn't subscribe to in any way could be a good storyline.
Then again, looking at the casual soul ownership in parent series Hazbin Hotel, maybe not.
Getting back to the only issue to manage to hold any weight
• Blitzø is horny
• Blitzø and Stolas power imbalance
• Stolas refuses sex
The episode seems framed in a way to have us believe that Blitzø has power here simply for having a sex drive?
He is interested in trying out new things, so what, let us not forget what the arrangement is, in exchange for a vital tool that allows him to work, to support the family he has made and give himself a bit of a break in his miserable life, he has sex once a month with horny prince Stolas who initiated this, gets to let lose and be satisfied, got a ticket out of his dreaded marriage (that was forced on him and he had nothing to lose in getting out earlier).
Tumblr media
We move forward with Blitzø discomfort at Stolas's perversion and general lack of interest in being around him being fine yet Stolas's mood changes we must follow this shift in his direction. Blitzø is invalidated for being open to sex on this occasion, despite all of what we have seen, dispite making his feeling clear on that occasion he had the option of initiating their out of agreement date to go further chose against it, dispite learning that this is now atleast the third occasions that Stolas has not wanted sex so it simply hasn't happened.
In a moment Stolas presented Blitzø with a gloomy mood, abruptly altered their agreement for good, presented him with an unexpected and game changing gift and cornered him with a complex decision to be made about their future, but not long after Blitzø manages to communicate how he feels back but dispite this being their allotted time together, Stolas teleports Blitzø out the house because he doesn't like what he's hearing. Blitzø said something similar prior, Stolas in all his preparation had time to plan that uncomfortable conversation. Again, who has the power here?
To add to power imbalance, there is another glaring issue...
Codependency
Blitzø also got yet another shallow, dismissive and ignorant opinion on his predicament, this time off Loona who smugly suggested Stolas was simply getting bored with Blitzø.
Now hold that...
Remember Fizz, who had fallen out with Blitzø many years ago, in one of their first sensible conversations since they were youths decided that Blitzø was so bothered by Stolas because he cared.
Tumblr media
I'm not saying it isn't possible that he cares but what is highly HIGHLY HIGHLY common is someone who is mistreated heavily focusing on their mistreatment and those who mistreated them. Not many can just switch off and not think about it, especially if it is current or continues to have a lasting impact. Blitzø ranting about how cheated he us in the social structure and being nothing but a plaything for someone powerful are things adults tend to empathize with and it's insidious to meet this triggering topic 'clearly you care'. Atleast Fizz doesn't really know any better, Loona has little excuse.
Tumblr media
This was honestly step one in cheapening Ozzie and Fizz's relationship because even though it was obvious from their introduction that they served to be what Stolas and Blitzø could have, this notion should be a notion alone because it disregards their inappropriate exchange and Blitzø's evident discomfort, so they're not the same and comparison makes Ozzie x Fizz a quick shortcut.
Cobined this suggestion that Blitzø was overreacting with the suggestion that he of all characters is boring and what do we get? Another setback.
Tumblr media
No doubt all these messages are leading up to Blitzø needing to be the one to change his ways not for himself then ho on to prove himself.
34 notes · View notes
velvetvexations · 1 day
Text
There's this intuitive feeling around mpsec orientations that are like, "but that's just not what the word means!", but if you really dig in the issue is that orientations don't really make a lot of sense conceptually because they're inherently tied to binary sex.
For instance, I'm a trans woman. Yet, until I get my tits, anyway, if I'm not wearing a big red bow like Ms. Pac-Man it would be completely impossible to guess that just from looking at me. Because trans women are women, a lesbian could date me and keep her lesbian card, at least among trans positive crowds.
For TERFs, this sounds like a win at first, like I'm pointing out a way in which being trans doesn't make sense because if a lesbian is into someone who looks exactly like a cis man she can't be a lesbian, right? Except...cis lesbians have been made fun of, harassed, and terrorized for their masculinity as far back as can be remembered. Even straight women have been put through the ringer if they don't look feminine enough - I will, for the millionth time, point to Chyna - but among lesbians specifically there have been countless women who could plausibly pass for men if they put just a little bit of effort into it, and many did because being butch as hell is something to be celebrated even if they didn't frame their far-end-of-the-scale butchness as wanting to "pass for men". They could have.
So in both cases, trans or cis, being attracted to a woman who is identical to society's idea of a man is not a disqualifier from being a lesbian. "Political" or "mspec" lesbianism, identifying with lesbianism for a reason other than definitionally being attracted solely to people who identify as women, is the only way the idea of being a lesbian makes sense. It's the only way being gay or straight makes sense. Because gender is so arbitrary, there's no way to make it work unless you're willing to enforce a strict binary that very few queer people want.
Like if you think girls can/should only have soft delicate features and wear lipstick and dresses, fine, I guess it's logically consistent to say being a lesbian is physical attraction to a fixed, limited set of features. But if you're willing to broaden your horizons to any extent, what being attracted to a woman means quickly breaks down. A TERF would say it's physical sex that matters and something something AMAB vaginas aren't the same but I'd like to take a Kinsey Detector and scan a lesbian who loves getting strapped by a hyper-masculine butch to see where she lands.
So there are all these situations where we say "still a lesbian", even though logically the people who are into those girls should be plenty capable of being attracted other people. To bring it back to the trans point of view, I don't really understand how a lesbian could be attracted to me and then turn around and say lesbianism is based purely on what gender you're attracted to, while some would be viciously mean to her and accuse her of transphobia (which I would hate) if she weren't into me. Because what if, hypothetically, I woke up tomorrow and said "you know, I think I'm feeling more comfortable thinking of myself as a man these days " - that changes everything over night? That lesbian is no longer attracted to me when I change my pronouns? What if I had already been thinking that and I just didn't say anything about it, was she attracted to a man for a brief period of time?
Gender and how we classify attraction is just very, very arbitrary. Gender abolitionists see trans people as reinforcing gender, but I've always said that if they thought about it for two seconds they'd realize trans people are a deathblow to everything they hate about gender. They can't separate gender from sex so they see it as trans people wanting every girl who's not traditionally feminine to be boys and every boy who's not traditionally masculine to be women.
And, well, that's one reason I hate egg shit because yeah that is actually kinna doing that. It's at least reinforcing pink=girl mentality. Like to be clear, I'm not saying you can't associate girlhood with the color pink, I just think that when a cis man likes the color pink and you go "have you tried estrogen?" you're not just associating the two concepts but actively backing up the societal expectation that to like pink is to be a girl. It's like the difference between associating candy canes with Christmas and being convinced it's somehow already December again when you see peppermints being sold in the middle of March.
But other than that, which I've gone on the record against over and over, trans people are smashing society's concept of gender into pieces. "Orientation" as traditionally thought of must naturally also come down because it rests atop that foundation.
29 notes · View notes
katyawriteswhump · 3 days
Text
eternal summer
For  @harringrovesummerbingo
Title: Eternal Summer  Square and prompt: C2 “Is your dream more important than me?” Rating: M WC: 570. Major tags: Harringrove, angst, non-explicit smut, Incubus!Billy, age gap, no upside down au, dark-ish ending which is also a happy ever after, slightly soft harringrove.
and @harringrovemicroficandart 4 prompts, fingers/slipping through my fingers by ABBA, mention of Jim Hopper. WC: 570.
Summary: Billy's nature enslaved him into killing pretty things. Then Steve happened.
...
“What are you thinking about?” asked Steve, rolling over on the pillows beside Billy.
Billy couldn’t look Steve in the eye. “Just some dream.” 
“You look pretty pissed about it.”
Billy sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It made me think. Listen, I’ve gotta—"
“Is your dream more important than me?” Steve’s voice cracked. “Last night you said… Look, if you were shitting me… C’mon, be honest!” 
“Jesus, you’re needy! Yeah! I meant it. I love you.” Billy scrubbed his face wearily. “Got lost in dreams about you.”
“Oh. Why the sad-face… Crap!”
Billy jumped Steve, pinning him on his back, wrists secured either side of his head. Steve giggled, and Billy melted. God, Billy was two millennia old! The heat must’ve gone to his head to make him feel like a real dumb teen.
“What happened in that dream?” 
I made you mine forever. “You accuse me of talking too much?”
Billy silenced Steve with a searing kiss, enjoying Steve’s struggles, as he moaned, desperate, into Billy’s throat. He knew it confused Steve—how Billy was always stronger. When Billy pinned him, he could never fight free.
The kiss grew rough, bruising. Billy sensed the delicious tingle of Steve’s lifeforce ebbing from him. Tears pressed in Billy’s eyes:
I figured you were a bully. I meant to fuck you all summer, then disappear, leaving Hopper scratching his head over a dead teen, like a hundred lawmen before. Then I watched you ditch your friends to look after a bunch of nerdy kids. You begged for love, and I got weak. Now I dream of keeping you always as you are right now—a freeze-frame saved from the crazy tricks of time.
“Fuck me,” gasped Steve, interlacing his fingers with Billy’s, clinging.
“Gotta go.” I stay, you’re gonna get sick and die, or else I’m gonna have to… 
Steve pouted. Christ, he was such a kid! Billy unthreaded their fingers, letting Steve’s hand drop like a stone.
Later, Billy loaded up the Camaro. A BMW tore up and Steve jumped out: “You weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”
I should’ve hauled ass quicker.
“YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” Steve grabbed Billy’s collar, got right in his face. 
Billy shoved him away: “Dumbest mistake I ever made.”
In a flash of golden light, Billy revealed his true demon form. Steve staggered back, covering his face then peeping between his fingers:
“Holy shit! Are you an angel?” 
Billy reinstated his glamor, wondering what Steve had seen. Poor pretty fool must genuinely love him back. Only love played crazier tricks than time. 
Laughing, Billy took his trembling prey in his arms: “I’m a demon, Steve. An Incubus. If I stay, I’ll slowly suck”—literally fuck —”your life from you.”
“Wha—” Steve took a beat, frowned: “Is that like a vampire? You could turn me too, right?”
“Doesn’t work quite like that. I could make you my thrall.”
“Wha… I don’t know what that is.”
That night, Billy spread Steve out on the bed beneath him. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was tight. “You’re gonna fuck me all night, and then… Jesus, will it hurt?”
“No.” Billy trailed his fingers down the curve Steve’s throat, over his quivering lifeblood. Then spiralling down his spine, lower, deeper, relishing Steve’s throaty growls, the little trembles beneath his skin.
No slipping from my grasp now.
For the first time ever, Billy was gonna actually make love.
28 notes · View notes
koji-haru · 2 days
Text
Time Travel AU Part: 1
Well, that took longer than I planned. Anyway, here it is!
It had been a few weeks since Adam woke up back in Eden, and honestly? Life was great, he didn’t have to go to meetings, deal with paperwork or put up with those patronising angels. Eden was truly a paradise. Although, he did miss his girls. Oftentimes they would go to their favourite restaurants or to the movies after a long day’s worth of training. His girls were badass. They were THE bitches! And right now they should still be celebrating yet another successful extermination, each boasting their kill count. Except right now Adam was stuck having to pretend to know nothing as he named the animals (again) by the river while Lilith named the plants. 
During the first few days, Adam did try (somewhat) to at least be civil with Lilith, but that woman was just as obnoxious as ever. Always wanting more, never satisfied. Sometimes even butting in to recommend a name for an animal she thought was more suitable. Sure, Adam was controlling and arrogant, but so was Lilith. They were made to be equals after all. Today too, Lilith was trying to flaunt how she knew better than him. Except this time, Adam actually had the upper hand, having the experience of a ten millennium lifetime.
“Actually Lilith, I think I’ll keep the name ‘otter’ for this little guy,” Adam said as he patted the otter back into the river. “But I’ll be willing to help you name the plants when you need it. You do seem to need them sometimes”. He gave a small smile, his head tilted ever so slightly as his golden eyes bore into Lilith.
Lilith remained at her spot just across Adam, shuffling slightly before she huffed, “I was just offering a different perspective, but I suppose you don’t want them”. 
As if I’d want anything from you.
Brushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulders, Lilith turned away from Adam as she made her way towards her favourite spot under a massive tree deep within the forests of Eden, no doubt about to complain to Lucifer about how awful Adam was, which, yeah he was. He turned up even more since Lucifer started visiting them, just to move the plot along a little quicker. He has decided that, no, he can’t share the garden with those two. Eden just wasn’t the paradise that he deserved if those were present with him. So, the quicker those two were out the garden, the better. That way he also didn’t have to act so naively almost every waking moment, it was really getting tiring. 
Luckily for Adam, him acting more and more obnoxious as the days went by seemed to push Lilith and Lucifer together faster. Now he just needed for them to act on, a witness, and voila! Perfect paradise! 
The soft crunching of grass beneath approaching footsteps snapped Adam out of his thoughts. 
Speak of the Devil. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her lithe form laid upon vibrant green grass a contrast to her porcelain skin, her long locks as bright as the midday sun framed her delicate face, and when she finally woke up, her eyes sparkled like the purest of amethyst. Confusion in her bejewelled eyes surfaced but for a moment as it was quickly replaced with purpose. Her gaze wandered as far as she could see, fully taking in the world around her as Sera welcomed the new human to paradise. Lilith was perfect, as expected of the first woman. 
The first man, on the other hand, took longer to wake up. Adam, as he was to be called, was moulded and completed at the same time as Lilith, and yet while Lilith was already taking in her surroundings, his tanned frame simply laid limp on the grass unresponsive. Thinking perhaps he needed a little more time, the seraphim stood by, eagerly awaiting the moment he would take his first breath. A moment passed, and then another, then another. The angels shared a look amongst each other. Sera kneeled beside Adam placing her hand on his cheek, gently ushering him to wake up.
“Wake up”.
Nothing.
“It’s time to open your eyes”.
Adam stirred a little, eyelids fluttering ever so slightly.
“Um…did we make a mistake? Maybe he’s not finished yet,” Lucifer commented, a little worried. 
“No, he should be complete. The woman woke up just fine,” Michael added. Their Father told them that these two, ‘humans’ he recalled, were his most perfect creation. So it was not possible that there could be something wrong with the first man.
“Come on, you can do it,” Sera tried again, this time successfully.
 Adam was beautiful too, but his was a different kind of beauty from Lilith. While she looked to be of jewels with her dazzling grace and aura of untouchable perfection, Adam was that of the earth that formed those jewels. His warm tone that belonged with earthly life, and his brown hair carefree like that of Eden’s presence. A beauty, but nothing in comparison to Lilith was what the angels initially thought, at least until he finally opened his eyes. A deep molten gold embedded in his sockets, like an enticing lure of what was inside. Lilith was out of this world, while Adam was the world. Both God’s perfect creations.
Sera welcomed the newly awakened man into his new home as she ushered Lilith to come near. Lucifer leaned a little closer, his curiosity always unceasing. How would Adam react? What would his voice sound like? Would it be as divine as Lilith’s? Much to Lucifer’s disappointment, the first man made very little effort to get up and didn't even so much as utter a single word. Adam remained rooted on the ground, his eyes briefly scanned his surroundings before his gaze fixed upon Lilith. Unlike Lilith who’s gaze studied her new surroundings with interest, Adam’s felt scrutinising and guarded, like he was waiting for something to happen. 
“But this is paradise, there should be nothing to worry about,” Lucifer mused, looking around them. 
Sera bid the two humans goodbye, allowing them time to acquaint themselves to each other, and as bright light enveloped them, transporting them back to heaven, Lucifer briefly shared a glance with Adam. He doesn’t know why, but those eyes unnerved him.
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
Lucifer sat beneath a large oak tree, humming a soft tune. The spot had become his and Lilith’s little secret meeting area. Lucifer went to check on the two humans a few days after their creation, to gauge their progress. He and Lilith instantly hit it off, their minds similar in that they both always crave for more, to push beyond the boundaries. He appreciated Lilith’s independence and probing attitude. It was a breath of fresh air from Heaven’s blind faith. To always obey, never question. On the other hand, his interactions with Adam had been less… pleasant. While yes, Adam hadn’t done or said anything harmful, he couldn’t help but feel like there was always a bite to his words, even when he was complimenting and smiling at Lucifer. And those eyes felt like molten gold melting through his being.
“But maybe that’s just how Adam or male humans in general are,” Lucifer wondered. The other angels mentioned that humans were emotionally complex beings, so perhaps it was one of those intricacies he hadn’t fully grasped yet.
 Regardless, Adam’s demeanour was something he and Lilith also bonded over. Lately, Lilith had been complaining to Lucifer how Adam seemed to have worsened. More arrogant and controlling. Always having his own things to do and refusing to even consider Lilith's feelings, sometimes even insinuating how she wasn’t as good as he was. 
Today too, seemed like one of those days. Lilith marched towards Lucifer, her expression sour. He could already tell what had happened, well, it wasn’t like there was much to happen in the garden. Still, he and Lilith had gotten to know each in the last few weeks, maybe even a little too well. At first he felt guilty, he was ruining Lilith’s and Adam’s relationship before it had even taken root, but lately he didn’t feel as sorry for going behind Adam’s back. The man didn’t treat Lilith the way she deserved, plus with the way he seemed to antagonise her more and more often, Lucifer might as well think Adam didn’t want her at all. Still, Heaven wouldn’t approve of this, so it’ll have to be a secret for now.
“What’s wrong, my lily?,” Lucifer smiled softly, arms wide open.
Lilith settled down beside Lucifer, wrapping her arms around him as she buried her head in his chest. She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, as she enjoyed Lucifer’s calming presence. Lucifer hugged her back, one hand gently brushing her soft blonde locks. 
“The same as usual, huh?”
Lilith nodded. Oh his poor love didn’t deserve this. Maybe it was time for Lucifer to talk to Adam.
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
“Hello Adam, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Lucifer greeted. “How are you doing? I heard you’ve named a lot of the animals already.”
Adam rolled eyes. Just when he thought he could have some time for himself. He knew what Lucifer was here for, he wasn’t stupid. The angel rarely interacted with him, and when he did it was only due to his job of keeping an eye on the first humans, and that included him. It was no coincidence that Lucifer suddenly decided to pay him a visit minutes after Lilith left sulking.
Adam took a deep breath. He really wanted more time to be himself, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. He turned around and put on a wide smile accompanied with sparkly eyes. Eugh.
“Lucifer!”
Adam patted the ground beside him, and Lucifer accepted, pleased with the warm reception. 
“This could go smoother than I thought. Adam really isn’t all that bad, he just needs some pointers.” 
Adam then went on and on about all the new animals he discovered and named, hands gesturing freely. Meanwhile, Lucifer sat quietly beside him, not fully listening, but wondering when and how he could bring up the topic of Lilith.
“That’s really interesting Adam. Also, I heard from Lilith that you two were by the river today, helping each other.”
Adam nodded. “Well, something like that. I never really needed her help, but she seemed to need them sometimes, so I offered instead!”
Lucifer gave a tight lipped smile to that. “Adam, don’t you think a fresh point of view is nice sometimes? Lilith was just offering that.”
“So we just have to work better together.”
“Yes, but also–”
Adam clapped his hands, cutting Lucifer off. “Alright! We’ll do that next time then.” Adam got up from his spot, ready to leave Lucifer.
“Oh, where are you headed?”
“It’s getting a little dark, so I’m going to go get Lilith and we can find dinner together. You know, working better together like you said,” Adam smiled looking Lucifer in the eyes. 
Lucifer remained at his spot. He didn’t understand why, but that look from Adam always unnerved him. Adam normally had an easy atmosphere around him, but sometimes, for just a brief moment, the air seemed to shift around him. He couldn’t make assumptions though, Adam hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, and when he briefly mentioned it to the other seraphim, none of them seemed to have noticed anything.
“Alright then, I’ll see you next time.”
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
I swear this is guitarhero. It's just a really slow burn.
previous
next
46 notes · View notes
lost-decade · 2 days
Text
A little ficlet because it's a sunny afternoon in the garden and I felt like writing a thing.
Lewis/Nico
Lockdown
~
Nico is thinking of Ibiza. Delicious breezes dancing through the twisty cobbled streets behind the port, whitewashed houses freshly painted for the season. The soft thwack of Vivi’s flipflops against the polished stone as she walks beside him. Their villa, large and airy with steps that wind down straight to the sea. There are nights, there, nights when he reads the girls a story after dinner and tucks them up in bed, kissing their foreheads before saying goodbye to Vivian. Those nights, she smiles and tells him to have fun, presses a condom into his hand and sends him out into the dusk, into the clubs that line the Calle del Virgen and all the delights within.
He wishes they'd gone there before all this. The plan is to do so, at the first opportunity when the restrictions ease up.
“Elevens are easy,” he tells Naila, blinking the thought away and turning his focus back to the iPad, the maths homework. “look, you just - “
She holds up her hands, demonstrating that she's only got ten fingers. “You just change the numbers as you go up. So two elevens are twenty-two, then thirty-three. Then forty-four.”
He pauses, looks up at the ceiling as if he can see through it. Wishes he could. He thinks about the tattooed number, just behind Lewis’ ear. Remembers how it tastes.
*
“You're not supposed to be here,” Lewis says. It's warm and Nico wants to go outside, wants to walk along the coast to Roquebrune. Or get his dick in Lewis’ arse. He thinks he might actually go insane soon.
“There's only so much home schooling I can do before I lose my mind. And I thought you might be, you know.” He tilts his head, resting it against the door frame. It's hot for April and he's got the linens out, draped himself in a pale blue shirt, unbuttoned almost to the navel. “Lonely.”
“Well you thought wrong.”
“And here I thought I was doing a nice thing, checking on my neighbour, making sure you have enough groceries. Going to invite me in?”
Lewis rolls his eyes but Nico has had a lifetime of reading him. “It's that or get you arrested for being within too many metres.”
“Might be preferable to staying at home and not going anywhere for weeks.”
“And here I thought that was why you retired, so you could be at home and play house husband,” Lewis says. He steps back anyway, allowing Nico to follow him in. He looks like he's been napping, wearing thin sweatpants low on his hips and a black tee that shows off his abs. Nico's mouth waters.
He refrains from saying I retired to get away from you. It wouldn't quite be true but it would piss Lewis off enough that he might just throw Nico out.
“Seriously though, how are you doing?”
“Working on some music mostly.” Lewis takes a jug of ice water from the fridge, pouring a glass for Nico. He sips it slowly, wondering how much small talk he can take and whether it's necessary, if Lewis will fall into the palm of his hand or if he has to work for it. “Wouldn't be your sort of thing,” Lewis continues, even though Nico wasn't going to ask to hear it anyway.
“Probably not,” he shrugs, stepping across the kitchen, into Lewis’ personal space.
He holds himself firm, Lewis, tension in his stance. “You’re only here because it's convenient, because you can't go out and pick up some twink in a back room.”
That's only part of it. Lockdown has made him think about Lewis, twenty-four seven. They're never home at the same time normally. For the last three weeks Nico has timed his morning runs to match up with Lewis’, watched him from a distance, the way his body cuts through the air with the precision of a machine.
“Do you often think about me with other men?” Nico asks, amusement in his tone. His breath ghosts Lewis’ jaw.
“I don't think about you at all.” Lewis shuts his eyes, lips parted as if he can suck the lie back in, but there's no resistance as Nico's fingers slide down the back of his sweatpants, brushing over his hole as he kisses him.
20 notes · View notes
scekrex · 3 days
Note
Hi!! I love ur stories sm and im gonna ask anonymously for my first time cuz im lowkey shy LOL 🥲..
I was wondering maybe a Adam x Male reader where they had a huge argument, reader mentions something mean about Eve or Lillith to Adam after he says something petty, and Adam reacts without realizing and accidentally hits Reader. (by instinct) Then in shock, reader storms out and doesn’t come back home for a couple of days. (Or you can make it as long, or as short as you want!) You can make it as angst to your liking, and maybe add a makeup (fluff) at the end!! :)) I just think it would be interesting to see.
Thank you, and take care of yourself ! ❤️
Can do, the fluffy end is probably not as fluffy as it could've been but idk it just turned out the way it did ig
All this pain and the words that I cannot say, at least I'm trying
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, hitting (without consent), low-key toxic relationship
note: not beta read bc fuck you
Tumblr media
The air felt tense, the vibe wasn’t as happy and cheery as it had been only moments ago and your neighbors were complaining about the loud screams and yells that kept coming from your apartment and yet neither you nor Adam got it together to simply leave in order to calm down. To be fair, it was your apartment so if someone was in the position to leave it was Adam. The argument between the two of you wasn’t just a tiny thing, it might have been the biggest fight you ever had with him.
The screaming and yelling was loud, the arguments were weak - not only his but yours were too. And yet you both found yourself too prideful to actually admit that to that. Hell would freeze before you would give him the boost of being right by admitting you were wrong, no way you’d admit to that to someone like Adam. And then he said something that caused you to snap.
“Maybe if you wouldn’t be so fucking complicated it would be easier to love your bitchy ass,” Adam yelled at you, his voice already sounded raspy and broken, his body language told you that he was not the only one who was slowly growing tired from fighting - you were too. You clicked your tongue, then responded in a quiet yet annoyed tone, “At least I didn’t lose the fucking women God created for me and only me, you did. So be my fucking guest Adam, if it’s so hard to love me, break the fuck up.” The shock in Adam’s eyes was visible, it was paired with betrayal that he felt, the comment had hit exactly the right spot to actually hurt the brunette and while you regretted it immediately, you did not apologize for it. “Leave them out of this, this shit’s between you and me, bitch,” the first man growled angrily and suddenly the betrayal and shock were overplayed by anger - pure rage vibrated through his body and he made it obvious. You simply crossed your arms over your chest, why though? Why did he get to say mean things about you and you were not allowed to shoot queally mean things back at him? “It’s not my fucking fault you were a horrible person in Eden - horrible enough to make the devil seem nicer. Maybe I’ll go down and suck Lucifer’s dick-” you were not able to finish your sentence.
Adam raised his hand and slapped you across the face. It stung, the part of your cheek that he had hit turned red but worse than that was the fact that he hit you. He had never hurt you physically before, yes there had been fights, yes there had been arguments but never had he hurt you before in any form or way. Your mind was blank, your body felt numb except for your cheek and all you were able to do was to stare, stare at him, stare at his hand, stare at the wall behind him. Before Adam was able to apologize through the fog that had clouded your brain lifted and you stormed off, you grabbed your backpack on your way to the front door and just as the brunette you called your boyfriend was about to say something, you slammed the door shut. From the hallway you heard how one of the picture frames fell to the ground and broke, you couldn’t care any less.
-
Adam just stood there and watched because what else was he supposed to do? He knew it was too late to apologize, he knew he fucked up badly and that there was the possibility of you breaking up with him and if he was completely honest with himself he deserved it. He had never been the perfect boyfriend you deserved, he had always been out of line, loud and simply too much but you had always assured him that that was simply who he was and that you loved him for who he was - but was that still the case? Did you still love him after that? Because it was one thing to pick fights with each other far more often than other couples did but it was a different thing entirely to hit your partner, Adam was very aware of that. And yet he had still raised his hand against you, a thing he had sworn to himself to never do had been done and he wasn’t able to simply undo it. A weak apology wouldn’t do either, not after that.
He wanted to go after you but he knew you well enough to be aware of how stupid that idea was, the fight would only continue outside of the apartment and he would only cause things to escalate even more and that he really didn’t want. He wasn’t even sure why he hit you in the first place, it had just… kind of happened? He didn’t know. What he did know was that you were gone and that you’d surely spend the night at someone else’s place and while he hated the idea of it, he was smart enough to know that it was for the best to have a little distance between you and him for the night. Surely you’d come back the next day and you two could sort things out.
-
But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that day.
Adam was freaked out to say the least, he was worried you might secretly dump his ass, stop by when you knew he wasn’t home to pick up your stuff and just disappear. His wives had left him and he was convinced you would leave him just like them. You weren’t his husband yet, you could simply disappear if you wanted to and that scared Adam, it scared him deeply. Because deep down he knew that afterlife without you wouldn’t make any sense, that he was simply a lost soul without you by his side.
He was sitting on the couch, waiting for you to come back, he had canceled all the appointments and band meetings to simply sit on the couch of your apartment and wait for you to come back home, that was all he wanted. He wanted to know you’re safe. But he didn’t know shit because you weren’t answering his calls or responding to his texts, you did read them though. It was driving him crazy to not be sure of anything despite the fact that you were gone.
Where were you?
When would you come back?
Would you come back to begin with?
The brunette jumped off the couch when he heard a key in the lock and his face reflected the relief he was feeling when he saw that you were the one opening the door. Without thinking twice he rushed over to where you stood, the front door still open behind you. The first man pulled you into a bone crushing hug, mumbling sweet nothings under his breath as his wings wrapped around your body in protection. “Fuck, you’re back,” he whispered, sounding so lost, so hurt, so scared. You weren’t hugging him back but you also didn’t try to push him away or get out of the hug in general.
What were you supposed to do? Hugging him back felt wrong after he hit you but pushing him away seemed even worse - yet you wanted an apology. An honest and emotional apology with an explanation of why he did what he did. But you got none of that, instead you listened to Adam who was brabbling everything that he had worked so hard on to bottle up inside of him. “Don’t fucking leave me, do what you want, punch me, scream at me, kick me out but don’t fucking leave me.” And if Adam would be more emotional than he was he would’ve cried, would’ve broken down in front of you while holding you. But he wasn’t emotional and therefore didn’t cry. What he did was that he made sure you understood how desperately he needed you in his life.
And while that was not what you wanted - an apology - it was okay for the moment.
31 notes · View notes
datshitrandom · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Klaine Back-To-School AU Challenge by @the-lima-bean | No Title
63 notes · View notes
hellothepixel · 2 years
Text
"high school musical" <<< "high school musical but it's the gay remake in my head"
61 notes · View notes
airagorncharda · 10 months
Text
For any followers of mine still living with parents, guardians, family, or even just with roommates and who've never lived alone and/or fully on your own terms (whether ye be 16 or 60), I have TWO pieces of wisdom for you for when you eventually do:
You WILL discover that you were wrong about some shit you felt pretty strongly about before. Maybe you never realized how often your mom ACTUALLY cleans the bathroom and it turns out she asked for help really rarely. Maybe, much as it grates to admit, putting $50 into a different savings account every paycheck really IS the ONLY way to save any fucking money. Maybe that big rolling trashcan you resented your roommate putting in the kitchen, and got in that big fight about, really WAS super convenient and now you have to buy one for yourself after they move out and take it with them. Maybe blanching vegetables so they retain their color when cooked actually DOES enhance a meal, pretty food slaps actually, and the reason you didn't think it was worth the effort is because you were depressed.
You WILL also discover new shit that works SO much better for you than everything you'd been taught. Maybe you'll discover that dropping trash off at a recycling center at your convenience works way better for your brain than getting it picked up on a set day. Maybe you'll realize you don't actually hate tofu, you just hate how your family cooks tofu. Maybe you'll love being able to walk around the house naked whenever you want. Maybe you'll find you thrive in a space with giant framed nude photography, or taxidermy animals, or fandom themed Everything. Maybe you'll realize that keeping the thermostat set like 5 degrees colder (or hotter) than is typical makes you sleep better than you ever have before in your whole life.
The point of this wisdom is: Stay humble, but also, stay excited. There's no point pretending you weren't wrong about shit you were wrong about, just eat the crow and move on. But also, there's so much to look forward to about your own space-- even more than you could ever imagine when you don't have it yet.
31K notes · View notes
sttoru · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
Tumblr media
“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
Tumblr media
8K notes · View notes
Text
Colonel's Girl
Tumblr media
You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.
masterlist 🩷 ao3
tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex
This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 
Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 
“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”
“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.
“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.
“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”
Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”
“Get out of my sight.”
Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.
König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 
“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”
Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 
“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”
“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”
“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.
“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 
You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 
A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.
“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 
You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 
You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”
“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.
Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 
The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.
You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.
“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.
König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.
“Sir-my breakfast…”
“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 
“Help yourself, ma’am.” 
“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 
König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 
You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 
It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.
It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.
“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”
You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 
König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 
It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.
“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 
“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”
“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”
König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.
“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”
König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.
“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 
“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.
The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.
You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.
“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.
“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 
König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 
Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.
“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”
“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.
“Have I offended you?”
Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.
“Just leave me alone.”
There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.
“As you wish.”
He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.
König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.
Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.
“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 
“Relax, he’s not going to know.”
“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”
“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”
“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”
They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 
It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  
You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 
A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.
“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.
Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.
The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 
“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 
You frowned and took a step closer to him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. 
“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 
“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”
“It’s fine, really.”
You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”
König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 
“Oh my god, what happened?”
“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”
“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”
“You didn’t.” He replied.
“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.
“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”
“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”
There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”
König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 
“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”
You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”
König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”
You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.
“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”
You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.
“It’s not important now-”
“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”
Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.
“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”
You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 
You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.
König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 
You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 
He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 
König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 
You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 
“May I ask you a question?”
Oh. “Of course.”
“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”
You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”
“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”
Forthright . You forgot.
You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.
“Right.” 
“It’s not your problem.” 
König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 
Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”
König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 
“What message?” König asked suddenly. 
“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.
“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”
Oh. 
“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.
“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”
You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 
“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”
“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”
Oh, this was very fucking bad.
“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”
“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”
You blinked. 
“Wha- why would you think that?”
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”
When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.
“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.
You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”
“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?
“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”
“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”
“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”
“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”
“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”
König didn’t respond. 
“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”
“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.
The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 
You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 
You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”
“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”
“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”
Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”
Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.
You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 
You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 
You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.
“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.
“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”
König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.
He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 
“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”
You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.
“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”
You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 
“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.
König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”
“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”
You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 
“What?” You asked.
“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 
“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”
You took a bold step forward.
“And are you?”
König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.
König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 
As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.
He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.
The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.
You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?
You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.
Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.
“Schatz?” 
Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.
König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.
“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.
He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.
The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 
You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 
You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.
“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”
It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.
“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”
You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 
“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”
“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”
“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”
One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.
Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 
He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 
Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.
“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 
“I - I want you, too.”
Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.
“K-König,” you murmured quietly.
“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.
“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.
“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.
“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”
“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.
“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.
He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.
“Did you just have an orgasm?”
“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 
“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.
“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 
“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.
“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”
“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.
“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.
“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”
“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”
“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.
“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.
“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.
“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”
“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 
Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.
“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”
“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”
“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”
You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 
“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”
“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 
“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”
He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.
You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.
“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”
“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.
“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”
“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”
You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 
Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.
“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”
“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”
König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.
“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”
“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”
“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”
“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 
König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.
You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.
“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”
He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”
You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.
“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.
“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”
This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.
“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”
He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.
“What?” You asked.
“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”
10K notes · View notes
invisiblyvisiblejay · 7 months
Text
my sister and i got my dad a picture of our dogs photoshopped into a like. 18th century style painting and he's obsessed with it he's been texting me about it for like the past hour we like definitely won birthday this year lmao
Tumblr media
to be fair it is really funny
1 note · View note