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#‘I’m vague on those details’
ghostdrinkssoup · 11 months
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mizumono from hannibal’s perspective except he compares the tragedy to agamemnon sacrificing iphigenia and will’s anguish to that of clytemnestra, the vindictive wife who’ll never understand why he had to do it but guts him for it anyway, rejoicing as she watches the blood spill from the side of the tub and splatter onto the tiles.
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versus mizumono from will’s perspective except he compares the tragedy to medea brutally killing her children to hurt jason for his betrayal. just because she wanted to punish him. even if it breaks her heart and betrays her weakness. so long as he’s not laughing at her, they can both share the pain while she wrings his heart and bleeds it dry.
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typinggently · 2 months
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I love the spn sunglasses and how you can always carbon date the episodes by them. Those ugly squares would not be worn outside of 2013-15. That blue monstrosity is the most early 00s dean has ever looked. It really shows how incredibly dated sunglasses are as Accessoires. From a fashion standpoint that is one of the most interesting details in the show.
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no1ryomafan · 5 months
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Yknow I can’t tell if this is happening more and more bc the general circles seem sick of arma bc it’s always in SRW-as petty as that whole thing is-or if this is just popping up more as years go on but I find it funny how people continually say “don’t watch arma as your first getter show, it’s confusing without any prior knowledge!” When like- you look at every other mecha imagawa has directed and it’s a stable of his to have a drastically altered setting from the original source, that your thrown into and doesn’t get shit explained to you so you have to figure it out as it goes along.
Like- he did this exact thing with giant robo even more confusing as he ripped a ton of characters from the authors other works, g gundam he said “what if I made Gundam a SUPER robot” so if you don’t know wtf the real robot is or know nothing about gundam that’s gonna be tonal whiplash and shin mazingers while a more traditional retelling first fucking ep is the ENDING. (Tetsujin the only one I can’t comment on here bc I know hardly anything about it since no one talks about it, but I’ll report back if it follows the same “Wtfness” bc I expect so) With arma even if he left after ep 3 and the rest of the changes (debateably) we’re added by Kawagoe, the first 3 eps are his standard story telling, especially given this was his third mecha project. Sure, someone may not know this if they never saw his other works or be informed similar director, but arma really isn’t a outline so I don’t get why it shows so much hostility if someone starts with it first.
Am I opposed to someone starting with the manga or any of the other Animes because they give better insight on the character? No, it’s all personal preference and anything else is just as a good starting point if not slightly better then arma. But I don’t like there should be a designated starting point when with getter the *only* thing someone needs to do in a specific order or way is what arcs of the manga to read-which even then, not the end of the world if someone stumble upon it via a later arc bc they can go back to read the rest if they find them-but the only anime they’ll need prior manga context to is arc since it’s outright a adaptation. Toei and all the ovas are their own thing, even if the latter takes elements of the manga.
Arma is no different from this and it’s really sad to see how it’s gatekeep like this as of late when it’s not actually “something you need a lot of experience in the franchise to understand” and more so “a effect of imagawas really specific method of story telling that is convoluted”.
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appleofstrife · 1 year
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Sometimes it takes me too long to catch onto something and then I absolutely embarrass myself and will def remember this stuff twelve years later 😀
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agentravensong · 2 years
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had two dreams that explicitly involved death over the past two nights
we’ll see if the trend continues
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arklay · 2 years
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sorry i can’t shut up. posts one thing and can’t stop
#leah.txt#so that little nod to diana’s grandma i’m sorry i’m just. i haven’t talked about this before so argrhrhrg but diana grew up in a very arts#based family. her mother an opera singer and her father a dance. her younger sister also went on to become a professional dancer to with#mainly ballet but also contemporary. diana also did those two growing up alongside learning to play the violin and piano. her grandma was a#sculptor and while diana’s parents were often just not home she spent a lot of time with her grandma and would just sit with her in her#studio and watch her work. but you can kind of imagine everyone’s surprise at her wanting to go into science… she really just had such an#interest in snakes from a young age and she wanted to learn more about them. just loved little creechurs. always wanted to go to zoos and#whatnot and like i thinks she may or may not actually have a tiny little snake tattoo somewhere. not sure yet. but when she was like i want#to study snek her parents were so like… you want to go into science? how about medicine then instead? maybe be a doctor or a dentist or– no#i wanna study reptiles thank you :) and like that was that kind of but her parents were so like. no. but her grandma made her a little snak#figure for her birthday one year and always told her if that’s what she wants to do then she should do it. and they were really close and#diana isn’t really sentimental about much of anything with her family but she still has the bangle her grandma gave her when she graduated#with her bachelors. and like i know it’s such a tiny detail to just chuck in about sculptures but diana’s just connection to art despite#being very much like super sciencey seems like she doesn’t really like that sort of stuff it’s kinda just like always going to be there. i#also have a vague moment of just like [refacted] watching her play violin once and being like in awe like as if she couldn’t be skilled#enough you know? but anyway yeah diana very much broke the mould in her family and was like no i’m going to uni to study biology i don’t#care what you think i don’t want to dance i hate it you already know this and she just went from there… working in her little zoos and#animal sanctuaries and being just the weird snake lady before like moving to america on research opportunity where she ends up getting her#phd like argjrgrhrhrgrh i have so many thoughts and feelings about her at all times you don’t understand#i need to go to sleep lmao but aaaaaaa#lmao i’m not fixing more of these typos it’s too funny
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I hate the despair twins but I love them. as a twin I’m obligated to love every fictional set of twins I come across so the fact that they’re both so evil makes it very difficult but I manage.
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sparky-is-spiders · 6 months
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*sees interesting fic*: Oh hello
*fic describes female character we know next to nothing about as stupid/arrogant/a huge bitch*: aaaand goodbye!
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it’s so hard watching a friendship fade after years and years because neither of you did anything wrong, you’re different people now.
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writella · 7 months
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The Confession
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Synopsis: Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right.
Details: rick grimes x reader, afab!reader, smut—masturbation, unprotected sex, riding, both rick and reader being desperate in the dark. I made the exact reason for the confession and occasion very vague. 18+, wc: 2.6k. Proof read, but there might be some errors.
A/N: Not sure how much I like this one, but I had this idea back in early October and I wanted to finish it and give you guys something after a whole month.
I miss you, I’m sorry. Hope you’re all well!! With love from writella. ♡
Your voice is solemn and heavy as you sigh before starting, “I don’t do this very often,” you say, “I hope this is okay.” Your eyes lowering shamefully as you stop. It’s only the first sentence and you’re finding it hard to continue. It’s almost as if there are needles piercing into your throat. “I just feel so embarrassed,” you admit.
Then you pause.
No response from him comes after.
Only silence fills the dark and hallow space of the wooden confession box. Only your thoughts, every creak you made on the built-in bench, and the light wind that rustled from the cracked door were heard.
You wait a second longer.
Hoping.
But still, nothing.
Part of you was suspecting that Gabriel would have been more inviting, telling you it’s okay; and doing so with his kind and gentle voice, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything it seemed. You only saw the silhouette of his face when you walked inside— the outline of a nose and mouth, really. He seemed to be sitting as far from the small barred window as he could, but you didn’t dare look again. You didn’t even turn on the light fixture in the corner. Your fear was all too big, and his unwavering quietness made it worse.
Maybe you had come at the wrong time, maybe you interrupted him. You almost wanted to ask. But maybe confessions happened in complete silence… you didn’t know anymore, but at this point, you were hoping so. You had already wasted five minutes and managed only one sentence. Perhaps he heard the fear in your voice and was just trying to be a good listener… yes, maybe, you pretend as you urged yourself to start again:
You breathe in sharply, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words come out in an uneasy, hushed whisper. “It happens a lot and I know it’s wrong. And you’re probably going to look at me differently after this, but I have to tell someone so I can stop.”
Your eyes screw shut, the next phrase coming out jumbled and continuous as you try to explain yourself quickly: “I’ve journaled about it and told myself it’s wrong but it’s not helping.” You start to weep, almost laughing at yourself, “I feel so stupid.”
You sigh and you almost think you hear him do so too, but you keep going.
“I’ve been thinking about someone,” you finally say. “For a long time. And I know it’s bad, I know it, but I do it anyway. It's all I think about.”
Another pause.
You catch your breath.
You wait.
But nothing.
So, you start again.
“I think I love him sometimes.” And if you couldn’t get any more timid, your cheeks flush, and your voice grows quieter, “I like his hair, and his eyes, those button-downs he always wears…” you smile at yourself, these were silly things, “Even his beard.”
And then you hear him shuffle, and a light sound is emitted.
It startles you, but silence ensues again thereafter. Maybe you imagined it.
“I like his kindness too. People would usually say strong or giving, but that’s what I like to tell him— that he’s kind. I think he’s kinder than other people give him credit for. He’s just protective. Everyone, and especially himself, we put a lot of pressure on him to make the hard decisions, but, really…” and there it is, “that's not the only way I think about him. There are things–” your throat tightens again– “ things that I think about. And things that I do.” Your eyes screw tight as you force yourself to say it, “I touch myself.”
Another bout of silence comes before the question.
One you’d never suspect.
“Can you describe it?” The voice asks, dark and curious.
The cool spring air of the night turns cold, but it adds no relief to the summer heat that burns in your heart as it begins to beat painfully. The texture in his voice, the inflection at the end that lined the sentence as a request, it rings through one ear and out the other and back again in a cycle.
You knew who it was.
“What?” You shriek so lightly as if playing dumb would help you now. He knew who you were talking about, you made it so desperately obvious.
“Can you,” he repeats steadily, “describe it?”
“I… shouldn’t.”
“What other better time could there be?” You can’t tell if he truly means it. His voice remains firm and lets out no hints of his true intentions, but despite doubt, you start anyway. He’s right after all, you’re in here because there hasn’t been a better time.
“I- I start by touching up my thighs, trailing up slowly… I always get so nervous… I never do it fast because I know I shouldn’t do it while thinking about you- about him,” you correct yourself, squeezing your thighs together, your hands gripping the bench tightly.
“But you do it anyway.”
“I do,” you reply meekly.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“I can't.”
“What happens when you finally reach all the way up?”
“Gotta touch myself.”
He puts his hands on his knees, making sure his voice stays leveled. “Where do you start?”
“Rubbing my clit.”
“Do it.”
And then you do. You truly can’t help it. Your fingers slide down your hips to the front of your heat, chilly fingers pressing up against your lips over your underwear.
He hears the little sigh as you finally allow your finger to reach your clit in between.
“How does it feel?”
“My fingers are cold right now, so,” a quick breathy laugh leaves you, “ good, really good.” You rub your fingers in slow circles, but your hand and hips jerk, forcing you to speed up, but you try, try to not seem so pathetic to yourself as if there was any attempt at going back now.
His voice’s a slight strain as he asks, “And what do you think about?” He starts to rub his thighs, feeling his cock stir to the side of his jeans, making the material feel tighter than it truly was. His fingers trail closer, knuckles brushing against his erection. He’s pretending like he can stop himself too. “What does he do in your head, sweetheart?”
“He watches,” you say as your movements speed up again. You really can’t help it now, his voice edges you on. Your hand goes under the band of your underwear, fingers collecting wetness below to bring up to your clit, “He’s standing at the edge of the bed,” you tell him, “he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and then he starts taking off his belt… He’s smiling.”
If only you knew that hearing how bad you wanted him was making him do the same thing on the other side.
You’re panting now, one foot comes up to the bench as you slide yourself over to press your back into the corner of the wall, your head tilting back as well, using the assistance to grind into your hand. “He thinks I’m pretty.”
“That's cause are.” He’s lowered his pants now and takes his cock out from under his boxers. Your words make his mouth gape and his eyes close as he begins to stroke himself. “You really are.”
His smile fades as he bites down on his lip lightly. You’re so needy for him and so desperate to admit it. It makes him feel powerful. Almost God-like, despite you both starring as the other’s tempter. So sweet and sinful the sounds you’re making are. How could he not give in? How could he not make you wet for him even at church and stroke his cock as it happens? You’re making it so easy with every whine and little moan you try to withhold. He could hear you getting restless, but he wants to make you want it more, “Keep goin’,” he tells you. “What’s happening now?”
“I put two fingers in,” you whine, “not big enough. Never enough.”
You let your two fingers stay inside you as you press your palm down on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the underside of your hand. You stop for a moment to take off your pants and underwear entirely, discarding it on the floor before you return to your spot. You put one leg up on the bench as you continue to finger yourself.
“I want him so bad.”
“How bad, sweetheart? What would you let him do?”
“Anything, Rick.” You say it louder than you intend, you’re losing yourself. “Anything for him.”
“Anything?”
“Everything.”
After that only nonsense comes out, simple sounds of desire and pleads. It was becoming too much to talk.
Rick felt the same. His hand on his shaft made quick and short movements, his lips parted and pink, more red on the bottom than the top from when bit his lip again at the words anything and everything for him. He repeated it in his mind, listening to your sweet little whines in the present. His head tilts so far back that it bangs on the wooden wall and he hisses.
It reminds him to compose himself.
Even after you let out another moan of his name, and he swears he could almost hear just how wet you are now, the squish of your fingers going in and out, louder and louder.
He swallows hard and takes a breath before he says, “What if I say I want you in here right now?”
That’s when your movements completely stop. You can hear the wind swirling again. You were speechless.
He turns to the netted window. You two can’t see each other but you know he’s looking. “C’mere.” He says slowly. “Now.”
And after that, your body takes control. Swift and instantaneous you move from your door to his, shutting it hard. You don’t even take a moment to look at him, it was too dark anyway, and that’s not what mattered. You’ve already dreamed of his curls, and the pierce of his blue eyes. You knew what he looked like. It’s time to know how he felt.
Rick takes off his shoes and fully lowers and discards his pants. Before he could even consider his shirt, you’re on top of him. You’re kissing his face, your lips and tongue missing his lips by just a little, but it doesn’t matter.
You begin to rock, your wet pussy making the length of his cock and thigh slick before it's even inside of you. You couldn’t help yourself and it makes him laugh, all cocky and proud. Something that you’d cross your arms to, even quip back at in any other situation but right now, it’s so fucking hot.
His hands latch onto your hips, his legs slide back to hit the wall. He raises your frame and you grab him. Your sticky fingers lace around his dick and then you both lower yourself down onto him.
You try to bottom out fast, but his nails dig into you, slowing you down. Your face reaches back with a pout and a whine as he says, “Wait,” even after he’s inside of you.
Your pussy quakes around him. You’re both trying to hold it together, but he’s faring much better than you.
His hand holds your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks and a tear falls from your eye, all the sensations becoming too much.
His eyes trail the sight as it rolls down and he tells you, “You’re right. I do think you’re beautiful.”
And he kisses you. Tongue slipping past your lips just as quickly as they depart, going to whisper in your ear: “Go on now,” he smiles, “show me everything.”
You begin to rock against him instantly. Initiating the kiss this time, your tongue slips into his mouth but his goes on top of yours. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening it, and you continue to take charge below as you ride him.
You squeeze around his cock tightly with every movement forward and you hear a strangled groan come out of him as his dick twitches at the sensation.
It makes you moan so loudly, you could wake somebody up.
But it doesn't matter.
You could even come right now just from feeling him inside you for the first time.
And it doesn’t matter.
“I've wanted you for so long, Rick!” You tell him.
He’s all that matters.
“You’ve got me.” He tells you breathlessly, kissing down your neck with his hand tugging on your hair. “You always could’ve.”
Now you know you’re all that matters too.
Your head tilts to the side, eyes closed, and mouth open for each pretty sigh and slight hiss that come out as he bites and kisses.
His hands lower to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off. You start to undo the buttons on his too.
It’s fast and rushed and messy, but now your chests can meet. You press into him. Your hips are rocking hard. Your clit meets his pelvic bone making you whine and moan again. “Really good,” you say.
Rick’s hands slide to grab your ass, helping you go faster until they rise to your hips again. His thumbs press into the crevice of your hips and legs and he starts to bounce you on him.
You grip onto his arms, assisting him in his efforts. Your eyes are still closed, you’re smiling— already in a state of bliss, yet relishing in the fact that he was pushing you further and further into the dream-like feeling that was to come: your orgasm was close, and the string of airy moans made it evident to you both.
The way his hands move to caress your waist, trail up your back, roll over your arms, and back down again feels like gliding on ice. You felt him everywhere.
“Come on,” he tells you.
“I'm trying, I want to.”
“I know,” he affirms. He takes hold of your upper arms, letting his hands slide down to yours that tightly gripped his biceps and placed them on his shoulders.
You bounce yourself down on him harder, switching it up to rock on him and give your clit attention, then repeat it again.
Once you’re back to bouncing Rick takes one hand on your hip, helping you go faster while the other rubs your clit as vigorously as he can.
Your mouth is open wide, pants and squirms, and pleads coming out wildly. You almost feel like you’re making the whole box jump along with you as you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and then… there it is: you shout his name and he speaks back to you, you both come together and ride out your high.
A glow emits as you smile, your head crashing into his as you catch your breath.
Then a noise erupts.
The church door closes.
Steps become louder and louder until they reach the open confession box door.
Rick puts his finger to your lips, silently quieting you both. Your eyes are owl wide knowing what the person in the next section would find in there. You almost squirm but Rick slots his finger into your mouth to stop it. “Quiet,” he mouths as the person next to you drops the wet garments they just touched, almost running out of the place as fast as they could.
You lower your face to his shoulder. Embarrassed, you sigh, “What are we gonna do now?”
Rick is unfazed: “Well,” he starts, picking you up by the hips, securing your legs as you wrap them around him, “we could do this one more time.”
He locks the church door and then walks you down the aisle and onto the podium, placing you gently on the ground. He’s standing above you. Just like it all your daydreams.
It was his turn now.
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doll3tt33 · 2 months
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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ♡
(colin zabel x under arrest!reader)
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Summary: once again, you find yourself being arrested by Colin, adding to his piling stress from an unsolved case. However, you discover that a tiny favor for the detective might bring him some much needed cheer…
Wordcount: 5.7k
Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), car sex, coaxing, reader is under the influence of alcohol, brief mention of a bar fight, aggressive and rude reader, rly vague implied age gap, technically abuse of authority (it’s obvious, but I’m still putting it out there. I advise not to read if any of this makes you uncomfortable)
A/N: sorry for the major inactivity guys, I’ve been busy! And this fic ended up being longer than I expected, but I hope it’s good enough quality. My first ever smut, so hope u guys enjoy <3 (also sorry if any typos btw T^T)
You stood motionless, reeling from the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the alcohol's effects faded. The rush of emotion receded to an eerie calm. As your vision adjusted in the dim light, the scene came into focus - onlookers surrounded you and a woman now being helped from the floor. Through the buzz still clouding your mind, one detail emerged with painful clarity: her bruised and bloodied face, a stark reminder of the harm just caused in a moment of impaired impulse and from your god awful temper.
Now the woman who you beaten black and blue, almost to the point of passing out, wasn't the focal point for dispelling the haze of your impulsive rage. Nah, this lady had it coming when she slut shamed you for being oh-so-bold enough to wear a tank top tonight. No, it was the bright flashing hues of blue and red seeping through the windows that acted as your wakeup call.
Just like that, a realization hit with sobering clarity - “Shit. Cops.” Without pause, you shoved through the crowd, desperation driving every move. Bursting through the door, the frigid night air raised goosebumps across your skin. Damnit, maybe the tank top wasn’t the best choice after all. Intoxicated or not, you were in no shape for an arrest. Stumbling at first, you found your footing and picked up speed, putting distance between yourself and the scene of the incident you started. You were gonna make it through! You were gonna outrun those pigs and they would never get their grubby hands onto you!
…That was until, a loathsome voice sounded from behind.
“Hey- hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
Before you knew it, you felt hands locked around your arms, yanking you to a halt. The telltale jingle of metal broke through your panic and with a sharp click, cold steel encircled your wrists. A glance back confirmed your dread. You weren’t being handcuffed by just any stinking cop - it was that good for nothing detective Colin Zabel arresting you once more, and for what, the third time this week? That’s one hell of a streak.
You sighed inwardly, the fight draining from your limbs, knowing any attempt in resisting would be in vain. “Goddammit Zabel, can’t you give it a rest?…” you muttered under your breath, as he hauled you back to the police car.
"I know, I know - save your excuses," Colin cut you off wearily, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Jus’… don’t start, ‘Kay? Do me a solid and quietly get in the car.” He opened the car door to the backseat, gesturing for you to step inside. Despite his perpetual mask of affability, you detected an edge of irritation - his good humor and patience clearly worn down by your repeated encounters.
“Whatever man…” you sighed as the door clamped shut with finality. Through the window you watched Colin slip into the driver's seat, releasing a long exhale as if to shed the stress of your latest encounter. At least you provided some diversion from his endless paperwork, though you doubted he'd admit as much.
True to his by-the-book nature, he slinked the seatbelt over himself, securing it with an assured click. Out of habit, he craned his neck over his shoulder, asking out of the goodwill of his heart. “Oh! Almost forgot. Do ya need a lil’ hand with fastening your seatbelt too?“ he offered warmly, “Don’t want any extra accidents happening tonight, am I right or am I right?” A hearty chuckle followed, dying abruptly once he took in your expression - eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.
“Fuck off Zabel.” you growled in response, fixing your stare out the window. He felt tension coil in his gut but forced it down with a hard gulp. As a veteran officer, he had faced far worse than you, yet something about your unpredictable defiance unsettled him. For a moment, under your glare, an angry retort rose to his lips but he bit it back, sensing it would only stoke the flames. Best to let the dust settle, he decided. Starting the car, he pointedly kept his eyes forward and drove in loaded silence.
“Alriiiighty then, no seatbelt it is. I’m just gonna… ah- y’know….” He cleared his throat, voice petering off into a nonsensical mumble as he shifted gears.
An uncomfortable hush fell over the car, only the revving of the engine permeating the stillness. Colin tapped the wheel, wishing for a distraction from the tension. His mind raced through possible conversation starters but came up blank. A stolen glance in the mirror found your stony profile unchanged. With a sigh, he focused back to the road, flicking on the radio more for the static noise than any musical preference.
Colin hummed softly to fill the silence, earning another kick from the backseat - your fourth such outburst. He was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a pushover, but he still stood his ground when needed to… in his own unique way. “H-Hey, Cut it out kid! And be nice,” he let out a weary sigh, peeking up at your vexed form through the rearview mirror “You know, I’m not a fan of this attitude you’ve got going on. Haven’t been for the past week.”
You sank lower into the seat, glowering. “First of all, old man, lay off the ‘kid’ crap. I’m not a child.” You rolled your eyes at his feeble attempt at reprimand.
Colin bit back another retort, clenching his jaw. Pride demanded he have the last word, if only to reclaim a shred of dignity in his own vehicle. “Hm no, I think I’ll call you a kid. ‘Cause you know why? You’re acting like one, like right now.” he replied evenly, bubbling frustration leaking through his amicable veneer, yet he still maintained some semblance of civility between him and your not-so-good of a temper.
As you drew your breath to speak, Colin beat you to it. “Look- all I’m sayin’ is, this isn’t good for you. This is the third time this week I’m haulin’ you in here. The third time!” Weariness tinged his laughter as he splayed his fingers out in front of him, only to reclaim the steering wheel in a swift motion. “Not only is this not doing you any favors kid—-“
��I said don’t call me kid.” You interjected sharply, cutting him off this time.
Colin continued on autopilot, fatigue chipping away at his usual cheer. “It's also not doing me any favors either. I've got a case to crack, but Mare - my partner - thought it’d be best if I dealt with you while she took charge of the investigation for the night…”
His shoulders slumped, eyes downcast as a cloud of disappointment settled in. As a county detective, he longed to prove himself with this investigation, not play referee to petty disputes. But saying no had never come easy, especially when others mistook his calm demeanor as weakness.
Silently, your eyes veered away from the passing scenery outside the car window, finally taking notice of his careworn features in the mirror. Attuned to the new lines of fatigue etched upon his face, you perhaps began to understand that this was wearing him too.
“Must suck being everyone’s errand boy.” You observed, tone lacking its usual bite.
Colin offered a tired nod. “Comes with the job, I guess…” his words trailed off, accompanied by a somber tone as his gaze returned to the road. “But y’know what they say- it is what it is.” he added softly, punctuating the statement with a self deprecating laugh.
Surprisingly, a twinge of sympathy tugged at your heart - a rare reaction to the shithead county detective. For all his attempts at camaraderie, which admittedly grated, you had to respect his resilience in the face of your unrelenting hostility. Hell, that time you clocked him during arrest, most would've thrown the book - but not Colin. His patience and optimism seemed a superpower, weathering your worst without breaking stride.
A strange blend of sympathy and guilt surged through you, as the realization struck you hard like a freight train - you had subjected the poor detective to a relentless barrage of undeserved hardship, oblivious to the weight of his personal burdens. Your chest tightened, and a foreign sensation stirred deep within as the reflection in the rearview mirror held your gaze captive.
The need for redemption gnawed at your conscience, but how could you possibly make things right? You've been a real pain in the ass to him for a good while now. Within the depths of your alcohol-induced haze, a daring idea began to take shape - could you perhaps make amends through a little bit of... shared pleasure?
It was pure insanity. Drunken impulses (and drunken you) are the epitome of idiocy. Vivid images flooded your thoughts, projecting the sheer horror that would contort his face if you dared to make a move now. It was likely that he hadn't experienced the touch of a woman in quite some time. And yet, that was precisely the point. The poor guy may have been deprived of any intimate encounters since his fiancée abruptly left him, and the growing urge within compelled you to do something about it.
Undeterred, an unwavering determination fueled your decision to make a bold move and test the waters. Shattering the silence, you adopted an uncharacteristically sweet tone to conceal your true intentions. "Hey Colin, think I could sit up front? It's kinda cramped back here."
Colin glanced over, clearly skeptical of your politeness given past rides. "Not sure that's protocol..." he began, ever the rule-follower.
Your lips formed a slight pout, an innocent plea. "Aw c’mon, I'm starting to feel queasy. Just to the station, what's the harm?"
“Uhh….”
Colin's head snapped in your direction, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your expression. Despite his suspicion, a flicker of genuine concern crossed his face. The thought of you unleashing your 'gastric distress' all over his car seemed to be a genuine fear he really wanted to avoid. He did not need an extra pukefest tonight.
Reluctantly, he caved in to your request, his voice colored with a mix of resignation and caution. "Ah, jeez... Look, you're not supposed to sit in the front, but fine, I'll make an exception this time." He maneuvered the car to the side of the road, stepping out to open the door for you. As you settled into the passenger seat, he retook his place beside you.
"Jus' promise me you won't end up throwing up in the car, 'cause I'm not looking forward to cleaning up that mess." With a playful smirk, he wagged his finger at you, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words.
"Chillaaaax, Colin. Don’t even worry, you won't see me hurling tonight. I've got it all under control," you declared, gracing him with a reassuring smile. The unexpected warmth of your expression caught him off guard, contrasting sharply with your usual snarky demeanor and the piercing death stares he had grown accustomed to.
However, Colin’s initial reservations melted away, reciprocating the gesture as a warm smile played across his face. He resumed his position behind the wheel, ready to continue the drive. But just as he was about to press the gas pedal, you captured the moment and took action. It was officially reckless business o’ clock. You sank down from the car seat, your knees grazing along the surface as you shifted toward the detective.
Colin's eyes widened comically, his mouth agape, utterly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. "K-Kid, what on earth are you—"
Cutting him off, your slurred words emerged with a hushed urgency. "Shush. And I told you not to call me kid. Just wait, let me..."
Your words trailed off as you grappled with the cramped space of the car. Hindered by the handcuffs that still restricted your movement, you struggled to find a way to support yourself without the use of your arms. Nonetheless, you persevered, inching your way beneath the steering wheel and between Colin's legs.
You released a sigh of relief as you settled comfortably onto your knees. “Phew! Crawling around is no walk in the park without some arms. Anyways...”
“Hi.” An impish grin spread across your face, your eyes flickering upwards, locking with his apprehensive gaze.
“Wow hi, haha!“ his smile, already awkward, stiffened further as he involuntarily sunk deeper into the car seat, attempting to create as much distance as possible between the two of you. “So um… is everything okay? I mean, what’s happening right now? What are you… doin’ down there, specifically?” His words tumbled out, laden with confusion and a touch of concern.
“What do you think I’m doing?” you giggled, thoroughly amused by the sight of the detective squirming uneasily in his seat. A delicate flush of pink tinted his cheeks, a detail that didn't escape your notice. Your voice dropped into a low purr as you continued, relishing in the tension that swirled between you. “Weeeell... I had this little thought, you see. I wanted to make amends. You know, for being such a pain to you over the past few weeks."
A coy little shrug followed your words, as if you were merely toying with the idea. “And I figured, what better way than to help my favorite detective relieve summa his stress off his shoulders.”
You awaited his response with a wide grin, but all that greeted you was a dumbfounded Colin, his face now aflame with a deep shade of crimson blush, eyes wide and unblinking. The sound of his breathing, short and heavy, filled the tense silence, leaving you to wonder if perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. Although a certain part of his body seemed to betray a different sentiment, stiffened and undeniable.
As both of your gazes inadvertently dropped, your eyes locked onto a conspicuous tent forming beneath Colin's slacks. A mix of surprise and amusement flickered across your face, mirrored by the silent murmuring of the word 'crap' that escaped his lips. “Hah… that’s uh- real strange. Don’t know why that’s happening,” He gulped. “Good ol’ keys in the pocket, huh? They’re a pain, especially when they decide to stick out in weird angles. It's like, whoa, things can get a little… funny, you know? Awkward, even.” He added, his voice revealing a hint of panic as he desperately attempted to maintain his composure, all while his raging boner was in plain sight.
“Oh for god’s sake,” you groaned, impatience tracing a light furrow on your brow as the restraint of the handcuffs exacerbated your frustration. "You're not seriously trying to play dumb with me, are you?" You said, annoyance and amusement bleeding through your words. The power dynamics had shifted, leaving you unable to take the lead, and instead relying on the nervous wreck of a detective before you.
You closed your eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath to steady fraying nerves. Determined to take a gentler approach, you decided to navigate this delicate situation with care.
"Come on, Col..." you cooed, leaning forward as far as you could, resting your head gently on his thigh. Your voice took on a soft, persuasive tone. "Let me do this for you." With a subtle flutter of your lashes, you batted your eyes, mimicking the innocent charm of a puppy seeking its owner's attention. Colin flinched, his knees threatening to buckle under the weight of your sudden touch. Yet, he remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon you in mounting suspense.
A smile curled upon your lips as you sensed his lack of immediate resistance, emboldening you to press forward with your gentle coercion. "Just once," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Let me do this once, and I promise you'll feel so much better afterward."
“..Jesus, I don’t know ‘bout this… I….” Colin mumbled, trailing off with a heavy uncertainty.
He sat frozen in place, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His bottom lip bore the marks of his nervous chewing, while his brows knitted together in a hesitant frown as he weighed his options.
He knew he shouldn't, he reaaaally should not. It was morally wrong, a breach of professionalism, and could jeopardize his career if discovered. His eyes darted frantically outside the car's windows, scanning the desolate darkness that enveloped the streets in secrecy. But technically, no one would find out, would they?
And god, it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, especially since the bitter end of his engagement. And there you were right now, on your knees, your eagerness to please him palpable. Just the sight of you pouting sent his stomach into a frenzy of uncontrollable flutters, a reaction unexpected even from someone with a volatile temper like yours.
Bewitched by your feminine wiles, he barely registered how his hand had crept onto the top of your head, his thumb caressing your scalp with a tender touch. The throbbing heat in his pants intensified, overpowering any remaining restraint. With cautious swiftness, he glanced around, scanning the surroundings for any prying eyes, before his gaze settled back on your face - your smile, a comforting anchor in the sea of his conflicting emotions.
He sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "F-Fine... Jus’ promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone, alright?" His hands returned to himself, fingers trembling as he loosened the clasp of his belt. The once ironclad resolve that had held him together began to crumble like fragile dust, succumbing to the pull of the moment.
“You have my word Col.” you reassured, your voice a soft murmur teeming with exhilaration.
Colin proceeded to undo his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the confined space. As he shoved them down, the dim glow of a distant streetlight seeped through the car window, casting a faint illumination on the scene. You couldn’t see all that clearly in the dark, but you did catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers, the fabric adorned with a telltale wet spot. Needless to say, he was far more excited than he was letting on.
Your mouth watered in anticipation, your core aching with need. Your senses heightened, thighs instinctively clenching as you awaited his next move. But just as Colin's thumb looped under his waistband, he hesitated, uncertainty settling over him like an icy veil. Restraints confined your hands, the itch of frustration crawling beneath your skin. In this moment, the immobility of your arms felt like a punishment far worse than being thrown into a holding cell later that night.
Unable to physically intervene, you relied on the power of your voice to guide the hesitant detective. "It's alright," you coaxed, tone laced with soothing encouragement. "Shake those nerves off, just this once. No one will ever find out..."
Colin's response came in the form of a hesitant nod - quick, uncertain, but nevertheless a nod. With painstaking slowness, he mustered the courage to give his boxers a small tug, gradually lowering them at an agonizingly slow pace. The measured movements seemed almost teasing, as if he were intentionally prolonging the moment. However, the truth was he basically personified a bundle of nerves, as though he was a schoolboy experiencing the thrill of his first make out session, unsure and skittish in his actions.
"How about we ditch these stupid handcuffs and let me take charge?" you suggested, your tone cutting through the air with an assertiveness that bordered on demand. Colin's head snapped up, surprise briefly shadowing his features as he registered the sudden shift in your demeanor and the scowl that tugged your lips. He couldn't entirely fault you for your impatience - he had been taking his sweet time with dropping his boxers. However, a part of him harbored a lack of trust, as dubious as it may sound. The restraints provided a sense of comfort and security, keeping you in check.
Colin's throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ehh... sorry, but that's a no-can-do," he deflected your proposal with his trademark easy smile. "You understand, right? It's nothing personal. Jus’ think it's... better this way."
“Ugh…” you grunted, eyes rolling in annoyance. You relinquished your desires, holding back any further comments or demands.
After what felt like an eternity, Colin steeled his nerves enough to continue, no longer willing to delay the inevitable. In a swift motion, he grasped the waistband, sliding it down until his cock sprang free, bobbing slightly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of brown pubic hair adorning the base, now traced the veiny pathways that ran along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking. For a seemingly meek police detective, he sure had a nice looking dick.
You smiled as you leaned in, tilting your head closer. Your eyes, brimming with excitement, darted back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you tested the boundaries. Despite his initial apprehension, there was a glimmer of delight in his gaze. Encouraged by his response, you inched closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to twitch in response.
Colin squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the moment. “Crap, look- in case it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s been a while for me,” he blurted out shakily, already roused by the sight of your pretty lips caressing the heat emanating from his dick, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs parted further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer. “So sorry if I…. Y’know.. too early.” He stammered with urgency.
“I mean, you already look like you’re ready to burst before I even touched you,” you shrugged with a light chuckle. “But I kinda like that.” You flashed him a playful smirk.
He remained speechless, his face flustered and turned away, a deep red painting his features in the stillness of the moment.
Regardless, you took the plunge, gently pressing your lips against the sensitive underside of his cock. A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped his lips, a clear sign for you to continue. From top to bottom, you peppered his length with tender, soothing kisses. His hand immediately reached for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from cumming too fast, careful not to exert too much force and risk hurting you.
"And sorry about the whole hair-holding thing. I, uh... need something to hold onto when I'm really focused," he confessed, his bashful laughter intertwining with his words. His face still burning a deep scarlet hue, the admission both vulnerable and endearing. "Habit," he added, his lips twitching with shy sincerity.
“You can grip my hair as hard as you want. I don’t mind a little rough treatment.” you shot a wink, a giggle escaping your lips. Lowering your head, you tilted it to the side, your tongue tracing a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you pressed your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet insistent rhythm, each release elicited a small pop.
“Mmff!— fuck..” Colin‘s jaw went slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth made contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch. His dark brown eyes dilated, glazing over your form below him. “Yeah, jus’ like that… jus’ like that…” he managed to utter out, his heaving breaths punctuated by muttered words of approval. His fingers entwined with your hair, massaging the crown of your head in a visceral gesture of pleasure.
“Ooh, you like that don’t you?” you remarked, a playful lilt in your voice as you pulled back slightly, savoring the sight of the detective's face contorting with undeniable bliss. “I wanna hear it baby, tell me how much you needed this.” You crooned, face colored with a teasing grin.
“Okay-okay fine, I won’t lie…” Colin huffed, admittance causing eyes to flutter away. Amused, you chuckled, flattening your tongue against his length, gliding it along a long and deliberate path, coaxing the rest of his words to spill out. A delicious shiver of electricity ran down his spine, sending a cascade of goosebumps rippling down his skin from his erection being teased. “Agh!- y-yes I needed this, I really… really needed this.” he babbled out, his breath hitching with the weight of his confession.
Satisfied, you continued. Your kisses swept from the base and drifted all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it expertly caressed the ridges. Colin's body quivered, responding with an urgent jerk of his hips, a wordless plea for you to take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. You could feel the urgency in his veins buzz with an electric fervor, beckoning you to go further. For the sake of soothing him, you pressed your lips right onto the swollen head, treating him to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.
“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” Colin moaned, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips bucked forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. Each squirm of his body against the supple leather of the car seat produced a small squeak, almost serving as a subtle backdrop to the moment. “God, you scare the living crap outta me... but f-fuck, you’re sososo p-pretty!” He choked, another whimper caught in his throat.
“Mhm… that’s what I do best detective…” you mumbled with a full mouth, the warmth of his fluids clinging to your breath.
The evidence of your arousal was just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely soaked from the act of using your mouth on the detective alone, cunt weeping from the lewd noises leaving him with each stroke. Your lips glided further down along him, accommodating his warm slickness as you relaxed your jaw. “Ohmygod- holy shit you feel so good...” he groaned. He slumped back against the backrest, head lolling over his shoulder as he fought to stifle a moan. “Ngh- so good f-for me…”
Despite the discomfort that knotted your knees and the soreness that gnawed at your back from kneeling on the unforgiving car floor longer than you should’ve (all while handcuffed too!), that fiery bundle of elation simmering in your belly powered you through it. After all, Colin was all you could focus on, eclipsing everything else. His raw groans, the incoherent praises that spilled from his mouth, and the way your name danced off his tongue like silk - it was all you needed in the moment, utterly invading every fiber of your being.
However, it wasn't just you who was losing yourself in the moment. Colin's mind short-circuited completely, overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure that had him seeing dazzling stars. Your heavenly skills had transformed his body into a molten state of arousal, practically dissolving into a puddle of liquid. In this state, his thoughts scrambled like a glitching, outdated computer, and your lack-of-hands situation compelled him to take the reins in a mindless frenzy.
"Hope ya’ don't mind if I jus’..." he mumbled hoarsely, his words stumbling out spontaneously. His hands cradled the sides of your head, anchoring you in place, hovering inches above his seat to steady his rhythm. His cock delved deeper into the confines of your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. His heart galloped like a wild stallion, synchronizing with the rhythm you created, while he sunk himself further into the depths of your wet heat.
“Mmh!- ‘m almost there! Need a lil’ l-longer.” Colin sputtered out, throat straining to keep as quiet as possible. He could see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, whimpers muffled out around him. He truly never intended to subject your poor mouth to such rough treatment, his tip bullying the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it was sore, pushing so deep that your nose buried itself in the tufts of hair on his pelvis. Despite the guilt welling up in him, he couldn’t help himself at this point. His body was now like a machine, moving on its own accord to milk every ounce of pleasure he could get.
Even then, you didn’t even break eye contact, not even once. Not when this police detective who nursed a hidden disdain for your tempestuous presence behind faux smiles, was now coming undone right before you - His once neatly styled chestnut brown hair now clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, strands falling over his flushed, pale features. His lips, now parted and glistening, revealed a glimpse of vulnerability, while his doe eyes sparkled with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment was enthralling, leaving you no choice but to be mesmerized.
The rippling tremors jolting through Colin's frame reminded him that he was nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen ready to erupt. Between heavy panting, he plucked up the courage to voice his request, his fretful eyes scanning the confined space of the car. “Hey sooo uh- you um… y-you don’t mind if I don’t pull out… right?” he asked, vulnerability threaded through his tone. He definitely wasn’t eager to see his load spray onto anything inside his police car.
Your nose scrunched up in clear disapproval, a glare shooting daggers at him, clearly not a fan of swallowing. He clicked his tongue in disheartenment, head tilted to the side “C’mon, do me a favor will ya?… Not really lookin’ forward to making a mess in the car.” He pleaded breathlessly. To his relief, no signs of protest emerged, though a sullen mask adorned your face.
As he noticed your lack of resistance, he seized the opportunity to follow through with his words. “‘m sorry!- So sorry. I-I’ll make it up to you later. Really!” Colin bleated, tone brewing with guilt and that familiar undercurrent of pleasure.
Squeezing his eyes back shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his belly, yearning for release. His balls tightened, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turned sloppy. Consumed by a blinding, searing white that engulfed his senses, his mind completely blanked. With one final forceful pump, he held your head close, ropes of cum painting your mouth white. Trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, you gulped down the bitter torrent, suppressing the almighty urge to gag as your tongue battled with the assault.
Once you swallowed every last drop of his cum, Colin released his firm grip, withdrawing his now softened cock from your mouth. His hands fell limply to his sides, the air in the cramped car heavy with sweltering breaths, as though the two of you had just completed a grueling marathon on a hot summer’s day.
Gradually regaining his composure, Colin peeled his eyes open, his gaze fixed upon your chest rising and falling, your lips swollen and glistening with wetness. “Jeez uhh, are you okay?- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Post orgasm clarity rushed over him like a gust of fresh air, his lips downturned with genuine concern. He hastily reached into his coat pocket, digging out and opening a tissue packet, gingerly dabbing away the saliva and residue from your chin and mouth.
You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the unexpected act of care from the detective. Well, that was a first - no one had ever wiped your mouth for you after a blowjob, but then again, your hands were bound, rendering you immobile. “Yeah I’m fine, you didn’t really have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture.” you replied in a hoarse voice, head shying away from him.
Colin's face brightened with a smile, a wave of relief washing over him. You were right - the weight of his once overwhelming stress seemed to dissipate. In fact, he felt like a brand new man! It had been a long time since he had been intimate with a woman, so this encounter meant more to him than you could ever know.
In an unexpected twist, he scooped you up from the car floor, strong arms cradling your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, cocooning you on his lap. In that moment, the softie within him had taken over, aching to shower you with affection and gratitude for the pleasure you had shared.
Your shoulders tensed in his firm grasp, your wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and alarm. You couldn't help but wonder if he always got this sentimental after engaging in intimacy, and you couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Woooow okay, so we're hugging now huh? Someone's feeling affectionate tonight," you noted with a touch of sarcasm. Yet, despite your initial resistance, you allowed him to hold you, gradually surrendering to the warmth of his arms. Deep down, buried beneath layers and layers of pride, a part of you secretly enjoyed this, even if you'd rather be drawn and quartered than admit it.
“Yeah, hope you don’t mind. It’s jus’ that… you did such a good job.” Colin chuckled, his hand gently caressing the small of your back. “And hey, would ya’ look at that! I really do feel so much better now. So, genuinely, thank you.” His words resonated softly against the crook of your neck as he rested his chin there, his arms remaining securely wrapped around you.
You allowed the weight of the moment to sink in, basking in the warmth and tenderness enfolding you. Then, an idea suddenly sprang to mind, and you couldn't resist voicing it. “Say… since I did one hell of a job, does that maybe mean I’m off the hook now?” You pulled back, a sly brow raised as you awaited his response.
Colin let out an exaggerated huff, his smile filled with amusement as he ruffled your hair into a delightful mess. “Nope,” he replied teasingly. “You’re still getting your butt thrown into the station for the night.“
Your expectant smile swiftly dropped into a deep frown, prompting a hearty pat on the back from the detective as he erupted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry kid,” He said between chuckles. “Now chop-chop, time for you to get in the back!”
-------☆-------
I’m aware I made Colin more pathetic than he actually is and I apologize- Idk I just could resist 😭😭 Hope the aftercare made up for it tho??
🤍 only tagging one person cuz idk who else wants to be tagged:
@lacucarachapisser
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spacedace · 8 months
Text
Found this old snippet and don't really remember of the context for it outside of being a joking exploration of how weird the Fenton/Phantom family tree would seem to outsiders (not even getting into how relationships might be classified differently between the human side & the ghost side)
Anyway gonna drop it here as a prompt lol
Mind the quick reference to dismemberment, there's no gore or detailed description and no one is actually hurt, it's more there for comedic effect, but still wanted to give the heads up on it 👍
---
Nomad motioned to the towering, vaguely vampire-looking buff dude with literal flaming hair what the fuck, “Dan, this is everyone. Everyone this is Dan. He’s my…” Nomad trailed off and blinked, a look of confused befuddlement on her face as she let the sentence hang for too long.
“Huh…” She said considering, looking up at vampire-dude, Dan apparently, with a confused furrow on her brow. “You know this is the first time I’ve ever had to try and explain our relationship to each other and I’m drawing a blank and what exactly to call you. Uncle? Dad? Brother? Like, I think you could technically be considered all three.”
What the fuck did that mean??? Kon snapped his attention over to meet Tim’s masked gaze, the look of wild confusion Kon was sure was on his own face mirrored there. Around the meeting room confused and worried looks were being shared by the rest of the League. Which like, yeah, what in the Habsburgs was happening here for all of those terms to be applicable?
“Well, you’re Danny’s Mirror, so if you consider him your dad then it stands to reason I’m also your father.” Dan said, hand coming up to his - literally flaming, how did that work? - goatee thoughtfully.
“Yeah but like, I call Danny dad just to piss Vlad off.” Nomad countered, toying with her severed arm with her still attached hand. Kon didn’t think he’d ever get over how casual she was about being literally disarmed and just…not caring. “And I definitely don’t see you as a dad. Uncle?”
The giant of a ghost shook his head with a frown, “Implies that Danny and I are brothers, which could work but gives our relationship kind of a weird vibe. I feel more like his father than anything.”
“Gramps, then?”
“No.”
Nomad laughed, “Fair, wouldn’t want to take the title of Grampa away from CW. Besides we’re both half Vlad, so I think brother works best here.” She frowned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe half brother?”
Dan considered, “Half-brother could work. Though it gives Vlad more credit than he deserves.”
“Oh come on, can you imagine the look on his face if we went in together on suing him for child support?” Nomad asked, fanged grin wicked. Dan’s face lit up at the idea, and Kon felt like they were rapidly heading towards the two ghosts running off to go and go torment whoever this Vlad guy was rather then them help deal with the current demonic problem at hand.
“Can you please explain what any of that means?” Kon asked, more a squeak than anything else. He was starting to get a headache.
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jester-lover · 9 months
Note
Hi! How are you doing?
May I please request fem!reader having a 'Cinderella fairytale moment' with the first years?
You know like NRC is hosting a ball and they're waiting for her and then she enters wearing a ballgown and all eyes are on her because she looks so beautiful? If that's alright?
Magic Moment
W/ the First Years! + PLATONIC! Trein (I had to for this ask)
I’m doing wonderfully, thank you for asking! This ask is super cute and I’d happily answer more like it!
CW/ Fem! Reader, fluff, shyness, nervousness, average Sebek behavior (he’s my favorite), MR. TREIN BEING A BETTER ADOPTIVE FATHER THAN CROWLEY, I tried to leave the dress details vague, but the general ballgown shape is mentioned
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The bustling sounds of the Ball were ringing through your ears as you slowly walked through the hall into the ballroom, your wide ball flowing behind you. Grim had already shot past and went straight for the buffet, which was expected but did nothing to stop your nervous mind.
Suddenly you felt a comforting presence beside you, and you turned around to see Professor Trein, wearing robes with a bit more formal flair.
"I can assure you that they won’t bite; those boys are rambunctious, but they have a certain level of decorum."
He had a rather comforting smile on his face, which you mirrored as a surge of confidence went through you.
"Thank you, Professor."
He nodded slightly as you turned on a heel, holding your head up higher with a small smile on your face.
The great doors opened with a small creek as you stepped onto the main staircase, the bustling crowd flitting throughout the ballroom as you stood at the helm of the stairs.
All eyes were on you, and the crowd seemed to shush a little as you glided down the stairs. The flowing dress made you seem like you were floating. As you stepped onto the main floor, the sensations hit slowly; the sweet smells of the chocolate fountain and the gentle viola and cello melodies set a soft mood.
However, all of the decadence was put to shame when you saw a familiar face waiting for you.
Ace
He had to cram himself through a crowd of eager boys, all wanting what he did, the first dance of the night with you
Ace’s usual smug grin feels a little shaky, just like his hands as they grasp onto yours
“You wouldn’t mind if we danced, would you?”
His voice is almost nervous as he takes in the sight of you, your beauty and how lucky he is to call himself yours
he guides you to the center of the ballroom, as the lights dim slightly and the music becomes romantically fast paced and delicate
His hands clasp at your waist gently as the two of you begin stepping in matching order
Your gorgeous dress flutters on the ballroom floor as Ace twirls you to the music
After the two of you danced till your legs were sore, you wander off by the gardens
“I feel like I’ve been a little quiet tonight, don’t get too used to it, okay?”
Ace’s usual quips become a little gentler, you can tell he really wants you to have a nice time, and also because he wants you to think well enough of him to spend more time together
He’ll take any chance he gets to prove himself to you
The night ends with a kiss on the cheek as his face turns redder than his hair
Deuce
Through the bustling ballroom, Deuce used all his track skills to get to you as fast as he could before someone else could woo you away
“P-please let me have a dance with you!”
You guide him to the dance floor as the music gets slow and soft, his hands still against your waist as his heart beats normally again
This sweet boy is trying desperately to remain respectful in front of a lady, especially one as special as you
as the two of you twirl through the night, his gaze never left yours, you felt yourself fall deeper in love with the boy in front of you
Deuce guides you off to get some light refreshments when the two of you seem tuckered out, and the two of you exchange pleasantries as the party dissipated
He walked you home after the Ball, dutifully watching for anything that could cause you harm until you stepped onto the Ramshackle grounds
You kiss him on the cheek and wish him farewell, as you walk back into your dorm to a chorus of cheering ghosts
"....A kiss...? Wow...."
Epel
Epel’s eyes met yours as fireworks seemingly erupt in his head
he rushed (undignified in Vil’s opinion) to you and softly grasped your gloved hand between two of his own
He presses a kiss to your glove as he confidently raises his voice
“Can I dance with you? I’ll be a good partner!”
(You swear you can see steam come out of Vil's ears at his abrupt question)
as Epel dances with you, he makes sure to keep the mood light and fun with a couple jokes and jabs at the professors expenses
his movements are quick as he guides the dance, but he makes sure to keep at a similar tempo to you so you don't look strange
the two of you are definitely the 'it couple' at the Ball, with your looks and attire
Epel gets bored of the attention quite quickly, and the two of you end the night somewhere quieter, like the calm balcony of the ballroom
he tells you stories of the perilous prep Vil and Rook made him do before the dancing, how hard it was to learn the old style of waltz they preferred
"It was horrible, but I guess it was all worth it, seeing how much fun you had and everything..."
The two of you part ways when Vil sweeps him away for pictures, but he promises to dance with you again when the chance arrives
Jack
His breath hitches in his throat as he sees you, his pace quick as he walks up to you with a mildly dazed expression
“Um, could I dance with you? If it’s alright with you of course…”
As the music softens, Jack becomes painfully aware of how soft and beautiful you are, and decides to treat you like a piece of glass
his hands hover, and his red face is tucked into your shoulder as the slow dancing begins
the closeness between the two of you is tender and kind, and he eventually loosens up a little as the pace of the cello gets steadily quicker
Jack's radiant smile as the two of you dance together is so perfectly domestic, you begin to ignore everything else
the two of you focus on only one another, and he loves hearing your soft laughter as he spins you in the air
since our wolf is one strong boy, he'll adore spinning and lifting you in your long luscious ballgown
"Hold on to my shoulders, I'll lift you up."
the night ends with him escorting you back to Ramshackle, his hand in yours as he grows more comfortable with physical affection
however, when you press a kiss to his cheek, Jack flusters again and rubs the back of his neck
"You look really beautiful tonight, and I had a really nice time dancing with you."
Sebek
A startled gasp catches in Sebek’s throat as Lilia pushes him to the front of the crowd and presents him to you
“Human! May I please have the honor of being your first dance partner tonight?”
the music is a lively tempo, Sebek looks straight ahead with perfect posture, dancing as if it means life or death
His serious demeanor is a little funny at first, but breaks pretty easily when he realizes how romantic the moment is
He calms down and acts more down to earth for the rest of the night, something that is truly a rare sight
His grip on your waist loosens a little bit as he hears the music slowly descend into a lower volume
Sebek sighs a little as he checks the time, knowing that the two of you have been dancing for hours
he strongly suggests that the two of you spend some time away from the commotion of the party (ironic coming from the loudest thing in the room)
You two spend an hour walking through the ornate halls of the ballroom, with him excitedly boasting about how the ballrooms in the Valley of Thorns far exceed the one you're in
"Perhaps, I may accompany you to the next big occasion..."
Sebek walks you back home slowly, trying to preserve some sweet time with you until you must part for the night
As you step onto the stairs to bid him farewell, you press a kiss onto his cheek, and he blushes a stark red; his mouth opens to speak but no words come out
for once in his life, Sebek is completely speechless.
☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾
The cool night air that filters through the cracked windows of Ramshackle house serves to calm you down after a long night of dancing and socializing. You laid on the dusty couch, still clad in your oversized ballgown, sparkling in the dim candlelight.
Grim was asleep beside you, his warm fluffy fur pressed against your arm, and his gentle purring made your painted eyelids flutter with tiredness.
You thought back at the unforgettable night, dancing in his arms was a memory to cherish forever.
As you shook your arm to try and remove Grim, you realized he wouldn't budge, succumbing to your fate, you smiled and closed your eyes.
A wonderful ending to a wonderful night.
a.n/ Prof. Trein would be such a great father figure.
1K notes · View notes
kyriethesquishysquid · 7 months
Text
Heard Through the Grapevine (König/Fem!Reader)
Summary: There were always crazy rumors whirling around military bases and KorTac was no different. König, in particular, was often the victim of the most vicious rumors. Despite knowing her opinion is unpopular, the lovely reader refuses to partake in spreading the lies and often stands up against them instead, all while trying to battle her growing feelings for the quiet colonel. 
Word count: ~9K
A/N: Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details of her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back. Reader is aged between her mid-twenties to mid-thirties. While König has no exact canon age, in this fic he will be somewhere around 40 (an age range I’ve seen people come to match with his ranking as colonel). König has anxiety, reader has anxiety, we ALL have anxiety. Slightly possible medical inaccuracies- While I am a nurse, I am not an AP or Emergency Room nurse so I’ve never done stitches myself. I’m using my basic medical knowledge, what I’ve learned in classes, and Google. So please forgive any inaccuracies! As always, I've never played COD. No beta we die like Graves.
TW: Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 5-15 years younger than König). Size kink, mild innocence kink(?) dom/sub themes, M!dom/F!sub, major power play, praise-degradation, accent/language kink, voice kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) in both German and English. Mentions of violence. Talk of blood, wounds, and stitching in a medical setting. 
Simple Translations (Longer translations will be included next to their sentences!):
Scheiße - Shit
Kleines - Little one
Kätzchen - Kitten
Schätzchen - Sweetheart
Liebling - Darling/Love
“You can’t say he doesn’t terrify you!” 
Your friend’s words scoffed through a mouth full of pizza made you grimace for multiple reasons, a shrug of your shoulders being your only answer as you dug back into your mashed potatoes. 
“Seriously, Y/N?” Mark pressed harder with obvious disbelief. 
“What?” you retorted sharply, “Is it so hard to believe I’m not scared of the colonel just because he’s a big guy?” 
 “Then what’s with the way you look at him?” your best friend, Lisa, added, unable to hide the coy smirk growing.
A heavy sigh left your lungs and you dropped your spoon onto your plate, directing a deadpan look at the both of them as you realized they were not going to drop the subject. 
Damn her and her mischievous nature. She was the only one who knew even a little about your hidden feelings for König, having been spilled one late night under the stars after far too many drinks, and she hadn’t stopped giving you shit for it since. Thankfully, she was a good friend and didn’t air out your personal laundry to anybody; not even your other mutual friends. However, that didn’t stop her from teasing you at every turn possible. Like now. The whole topic was a stupid subject in your eyes, brought on by the recent rumors about König having decapitated a new recruit for looking at him wrong. Ridiculous, unbelievable, and yet people wouldn’t let it go. It made you feel a kinship for the big man. Though for different reasons, you’d been the subject of many rumors over your life, having been picked on and subjected to bullshit drama simply because of your weight. Perhaps that was the biggest trigger of it all, but the fact you truly liked König was certainly a major supporting factor.
“Colonel König is intimidating, yes, but most men are intimidating; save for the present company,” you shot back with a little grin, earning a scowl from said man, “Nonetheless, I’m not scared of him. He’s never raised his voice at me, nor given me a reason to believe those stupid fucking rumors people want to spread about him. He’s always treated me with respect, more than any of the other cocky bastards around here do really. Those stupid rumors come from people who are jealous of him, either his rank or his superior physical condition, OR from people who have nothing better to do with their downtime than come up with spooky stories.”
Your best friend’s eyes went owlish in shock, pulling the corners of your lips into a frown of frustration at her childish behavior, and you prodded her shin gently beneath the table. 
“For fuck's sake, stop looking at me like that. You know I respect and even like the colonel, okay? So no matter what silly shit floats around, I’m not going to believe a word of it until the day I see these supposed cruel actions in person,” you sighed, then pled with her softly, “Just- Just drop it, please.”
When she didn’t respond, you felt a prickle of uncertainty send the hairs on the back of your neck on end. You tried to catch her gaze only to see it traveling off to your right before finally coming back your way with a nervous laugh. 
“I- I didn’t realize it but… he was sitting behind you,” she murmured softly. 
Spine snapping straight, you gaped at her in shock. 
“No way, you’re joking, right?” you hissed. 
The slow shake of her head made your heart fall into your guts, pounding heavily in your veins as you nervously turned in the direction she had looked, only to find him putting up his dirty dishes and exiting the room. 
“Mother fucker!” you groaned, “So- So he heard all of that?!” 
When she nodded, you were almost sure you were going to faint. You and König were on good terms as nurse and patient but that didn’t mean you wanted him to think (however correct it was) that you had some kind of crush on him with how adamantly you defended him. 
Food suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing with the nerves buzzing in your stomach. Pushing your plate away, you got up from the table and quickly dismissed yourself with the excuse of paperwork piling up on your desk. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Medical documentation was never-ending, especially in a military base with accident-prone soldiers. You only hoped you could make it back to the medical wing without running into the big man himself and making things more awkward. 
Dumping your food, you shoved the plate into the dirty dish bin and rushed out into the hall. You were grateful to find the foot traffic minimal, allowing you to cross the base as quickly as your short legs could carry you. Your anxiety was already high enough with the worries of what König now thought; adding another unknown variable into the mix would spell certain disaster for your mental stability.  
The instant you stepped foot into the medbay and found it empty, you shut and locked the office door before snagging up one of the throw pillows off the old beaten-up couch and screaming into said pillow with all of your might. You screamed and screamed, until your throat hurt and your heart pounded loud in your ears, until you felt that nervous buzz of panic fade from your skin and leave exhaustion behind. 
“I’m gonna need a fucking drink tonight,” you sighed as you dropped into your computer chair, “She’s gonna owe me for this shit.” 
With that last thought, you fell back into the monotonous routine of finishing up charts and notes from the day. 
The next few hours passed quickly into days and days into weeks, time flying by in a blur as you buried yourself in your work and your patients in hopes of forgetting your troubles. You were both relieved and frustrated that you hadn’t seen the colonel at all during that time; relieved you wouldn’t have to deal with an awkward situation but frustrated because, despite the anxiety, you missed his presence. It wasn’t until Horangi assisted a hunched-over König into the office three weeks later that you realized he’d been gone on a mission during that time, a mission that had obviously gone askew. Immediately you jumped to your feet and ushered the duo over, prepared to balance the injured giant on his other side if necessary.
“What happened?” you demanded as Horangi helped König sit on the medical bed. 
“Nothing serious,” König replied, letting out a hiss when Horangi jerked his hand away and none-too-gently removed the makeshift bandage from the bigger man’s side.
A shudder ran down your spine at the amount of drying blood shining against his tight black shirt and then you eyed the tear in the fabric. His pale flesh was covered in different states of drying blood but the bleeding of the visceral wound seemed to be, thankfully, stopped for the time being.
“Good god, not serious?!” you snapped in disbelief. 
König had the gall to roll his eyes as you muttered to yourself about men being stupid and stubborn. As you leaned in closer to examine the gash, Horangi moved aside to give you room. Luckily, the cut looked relatively clean but the depth of it was concerning, with multiple layers of tissue peeking through the wound. 
“Hey, I’m going to debrief with the general,” Horangi commented suddenly, “I’ll let him know you’re getting fixed up first.” 
König gave a small nod in reply as the other operator left the room and you stepped back with a half-smile. 
“I’m going to have to stitch that up. If you’re not comfortable with me doing it, I can call the doctor in but I have done them plenty before if-”
“Ja, I want you to do it,” he cut you off quickly. 
That wasn’t a surprise. Nobody enjoyed having to call one of the docs in during the middle of the night unless it was for a dire emergency because they were all, understandably, cranky when woken. 
“That’s fine,” you agreed, biting your lower lip before gesturing at him and adding, “I- I’ll need you to remove your shirt so I can get a better look and stitch you up.”
König let out a noise of understanding as you turned away to wash your hands and grab out all of the necessary equipment you’d need for the stitches. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t deep enough to have chanced any vital areas, especially since it was on his side, but there was no doubt it was still deep enough that it wouldn’t heal properly without treatment. How he was even upright and talking like normal was beyond you. You were just glad you had been an RN in the emergency room before transferring to KorTac, your time there invaluable for all the shit you’d had to put up with here between busy doctors and never-ending patients. 
“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the… road”
As your gaze met bare, toned, skin, your brain immediately melted into nothingness. Gone were all the years of medical training and college; all that remained were the hormones of a bitch in heat. Never, in the entire year you’d worked with KorTac, had you ever seen him shirtless. He was hardly in here, between his elite skills and natural resilience against being hurt, and the only times he had been were generally for serious things that the doctor would have to take care of, or for routine visits that wouldn’t require him shirtless. So to say you were struck dumb was an understatement. 
Logically, you had known König was fit. It was practically written in all of their contracts to stay in peak physical condition, and the compression shirts he wore did nothing to hide the defined muscles in his arms and stomach, but seeing him without the fabric was even more daunting than you had expected. 
“Schätzchen?” he asked softly, voice full of something that sounded like concern. 
His gloved fingers touching your face finally jerked you out of your entirely inappropriate fantasy of getting the chance to lick up and down his abdomen and you nearly squeaked in shock, barely concealing the noise by clearing your throat. 
“Uh, sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me, uh, okay. Can you lie down for me, please? I’m sure you know this works but I’m gonna numb you up first. It’s probably going to sting,” you warned him.
Setting the equipment on the metal rolling table, you took the last terrifying steps toward him and it took everything in your power not to moan as you realized you were directly face to face with firm pecs until he finally sat. You managed to shake away the lustful thoughts on your own this time and pulled on gloves before grabbing up the syringe. 
“Ready?” you asked, not daring to meet his eyes lest you get too flustered to work. 
“Ja, go ahead,” he rumbled. 
With a steadying breath, you carefully poked the needle into the top layers of the wound and pushed the plunger down slowly. You’d seen other soldiers cry over the pain of a lidocaine injection into an open wound, not that you could blame them, but, of course, König took it all without even flinching. The man really acted like he was made of stone. It was insane. 
“That should kick in in just a few,” you murmured, capping the needle and placing it into the sharps container, “Wanna tell me what happened while we wait?” 
Feeling safe back near the cabinets rather than within arms reach, you finally let your eyes find him and watched in disbelief as he sat up without even a wince, cool blue eyes clear and steady.  
“Ah, nothing serious. There was one hidden upstairs and we didn’t realize it until- well, this,” he replied after a moment, gesturing to his side with a half-chuckle half-sigh. 
A frown turned down your lips at that. God, you really had it lucky, sitting here in your cushy position as a nurse. Sure, the hours sucked, and seeing people hurt (or god forbid worse) really sucked, but at least your life was never in danger like theirs. You hated thinking about him getting hurt like this, no matter how silly it was since he could obviously take care of himself. Swallowing hard, you nodded and grabbed another fresh pair of gloves, snapping them on with a forced smile. 
“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy then,” you teased softly.
It was a joke, and yet it wasn’t. You had no doubt his assailant hadn’t made it out of there in one piece. 
“Let’s just say, not even a talented nurse such as yourself could help him when I was done with him,” he replied.
You couldn’t help but giggle at how his eyes crinkled beneath the faded black smudges, further conveying the amusement lacing his tone. 
“I bet. I know I wouldn’t want to be your enemy, colonel,” you snickered, “Okay, lie down again for me please.”   
König leaned back with a little groan and tucked his right hand behind his head, keeping the angle perfect to avoid stretching or squishing the skin around the wound. There was a comfortable silence as you readied the needle with thread in the driver. You gave him a testing tap around the wound, to which he quickly affirmed he felt nothing before you got to work. You quickly cleaned the area, put a clean drape around it, and then snagged up the needle. It had been a bit since you’d done sutures on such a wound but you quickly fell back into the familiar rhythm with simple interrupted stitches. 
“You’re rather good at that,” he complimented quietly.
You felt your cheeks warm at the praise as you sent him a warm smile and replied, “Thank you. It’s nice to know I haven’t lost my touch since leaving the emergency department.” 
“Oh? What made you decide to come here instead?” 
Well, this was new. While König was always kind to you, it generally never went beyond small talk. You knew as much about him as he did you, though you couldn’t lie and say you were complaining about the change. That little fangirl you tried to hide so deep inside was dancing with elation over the fact that he was trying to keep a conversation going, but it wasn’t helping your little crush one bit.  
“Honestly? Better pay and escape from a bad home situation,” you admitted honestly, “I just didn’t have a great environment to accel in and when my cousin mentioned joining you guys, it just made sense.”  
Tying the last end into a square knot, you snipped off the extra thread and stood with a proud smile, examining your handiwork happily. 
“Gotta say, you’re a model patient, colonel. I don’t wanna see you in here for this again though,” you playfully scolded. 
As you turned away, you were startled by a sudden deep laugh. Not a chuckle or a snort, but a full-on belly laugh, and you were absolutely certain you’d never heard anything more beautiful.  
“And here I was thinking about getting stabbed again just so I could see meine süße kleine krankenschwester.” (My sweet little nurse)
“Hey, no using languages I can’t understand,” you retorted with a giggle, ducking your face in hopes of hiding the way your cheeks flushed with lust at the sound of his mother tongue. 
Why was that so sexy, hearing him speak German? Not that his speaking normally didn’t affect you but, when he fell into his old language, it just did something different. Another laugh rumbled from the man as you went about cleaning up the utensils and you had to grin. You knew, going forward, you’d do anything you could to hear that laugh again. A small glimmer of hope flickered to life in your chest as you ungloved and tossed them in the trash. Maybe this was the beginning of an actual friendship… or more.
As you scolded yourself over the lofty dreams, a presence against your back put a sudden stop to your motions, every last bit of you freezing in place except your heart which pounded valiantly in your veins. 
“You- You shouldn’t- shouldn’t move around so much,” you whispered breathlessly as you tried to shake off the sudden nerves, “Don’t wanna rip your stitches out already.” 
He was all but impossible to ignore, standing so close that you were certain you’d bump into him if you breathed too hard. Taking a small stabilizing breath, your eyes closed in frustration as you caught his scent, the faint smell of sweat, gunpowder, and something spiced, possibly a faded cologne or body wash overtaking your senses. It took all of your will to keep moving and cleaning up as if everything was normal. As you grabbed the antiseptic, you could visibly see the way your hands shook and mentally berated yourself. You were literally just sticking a needle into his side minutes ago. Why was this affecting you so much?! 
You grabbed onto the counter for balance and lifted onto tiptoe only to have the bottle suddenly snagged from you and shelved in its spot just barely within your reach. It would have been completely fine, a nice gesture even, if it weren’t for the fact he had to lean against you to do it. With his free hand resting against your waist for balance, you could feel every- single- fucking- inch of his form against yours. Forbidden images of him taking you right there against the counter flooded your thoughts when you got a very personal feel of his dick against your lower back, completely prominent in its shape even while soft.
The fates were fucking testing you to the ends of your limits at that point. 
“You should get a step stool, kleines, don’t want to hurt yourself,” he mused quietly.
A shaky nod was all you could manage, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the solid countertop and holding on for dear life. You couldn’t find it in you to reply with the mortifying lust clouding your mind. With your luck, instead of thanking him you’d ask to repay the favor with a blowjob. 
Deep breaths. In and out. After a few moments, you knew you should respond. You had to do something to diffuse the situation because he was obviously content to let you stew in your thoughts.  
“You- You- Uhm, you should go rest,” you stammered out after a moment.
And then he was gone. The instant he stepped away, you nearly dropped to the floor, your knees weak and back now startlingly cold. Tucking some hair behind your ear, you spun around and prepared to give him the usual medical spiel about resting and letting the wound heal, only to lose the ability to speak when a large hand cupped your jaw. 
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
His voice was soft, warm with a tinge of amusement dancing at the edges, and suddenly you remembered the stupid conversation you’d had with your friends in the canteen. Your tongue felt thick and immovable so you settled for shaking your head no, trying to convey that he, in fact, hadn’t scared you.
“No? No, what?” he asked. 
Swallowing down the urge to moan, you shakily replied, “You don’t- didn’t scare me.” 
Your plump cheeks burned hot at the way his icy blue eyes subtly changed, lids lowering into an indiscernible expression as his irises searched your face thoroughly. 
“Are you sure? You’re suddenly much quieter, Schätzchen.”
A little curse escaped before you could catch it as you subconsciously melted into his hand when his thumb started stroking your jawline. The calloused texture rubbed deliciously against your soft skin and sent goosebumps down your arms.    
“I-I’m sure,” you answered, voice barely audible even in the silent room, “Just… unexpected.” 
When he leaned down and hovered just above your ear, you swore you were about to combust. He was close, too fucking close. Delectably within reach and yet so far away in the ways that mattered. Your thighs clenched together in search of some kind of relief when his scent infiltrated your senses again, the same as before but so much stronger, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered traitorously. 
“That’s all, hmm?” he rumbled lowly. 
Oh. That bastard! He knew what he was doing to you and he was teasing you about it! How was this the same quiet colonel that you practically had to bully into saying more than a few words just a couple of weeks prior? You lifted your hands and prepared to shove him away, to give him a piece of your mind, but he threw you another curveball with the sudden sensation of soft lips against your throat.
“Ah!” 
This time, your gasp was loud, rivaled only by the pounding thump of your heart threatening to burst from your chest. 
“I asked you a question, kleines, I expect an answer.”
A truly pathetic whine fell from your lips as your head fell to rest against his shoulder. How were you supposed to answer him?! Your tongue felt thick and immovable as you soaked in the sensation of his skin against yours.  
“König, please, I don’t- I don’t understand what you want here,” you finally managed to croak through parted lips. 
He let out a small hum but didn’t answer right away. His lips busied themselves trailing barely-there kisses up and down the side of your neck. When you felt his nose brush against your ear, you nearly jumped. Every touch threatened to make you come apart right then and there and it was quickly becoming too much.
“Is- Is this about what I said a few weeks ago?” you pushed for an answer. 
Pausing in his thorough exploration of your flesh, he let out a little breath before humming back, “Mmhmm. Imagine my surprise when I heard you defending me, Schätzchen, heard you tell your little friends so certainly that you were not scared of me; that you even liked me.”
Your nails instinctively dug into his bare arms as you fought for your sanity, his teeth scraping your neck and raveling away what little sensibilities you had left. 
“At first, I doubted what I heard,” he spoke as his hands took hold of your hips and squeezed softly, “You are so soft and sweet. Untouchable to someone like me. I’ve spent the last few weeks debating, agonizing over if you might feel what I felt. Tonight though, with the way you looked at me? I could finally see it.” 
When he pulled back, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again but he was quick to correct that with a little nudge. 
“Still so shy.”
Your thoughts were running a thousand miles an hour; fear, lust, and disbelief were shouting at you in so many different ways that you thought you would pass out from overstimulation alone. While you’d thought about this happening almost every night since you’d first talked with him, you’d always assumed he would be a fantasy only. You never imagined the quiet, steadfast, colonel would ever have a mutual interest in you. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees and thank him for even touching you, while the other waited with panic-laced worries for him to announce that it was some kind of prank. 
When his calloused fingers trailed up your face and into your hair to scrape your scalp, it was like he flipped a magical switch. Gone were the panicked thoughts, the uncertainties, and the insecurities. All that existed were the beautiful sensations he created. 
“Does that feel good?” he asked. 
You nodded dumbly and let your eyes flutter back open as you heard him laugh, flushing with desire as you were once more pinned with those gorgeous eyes of his. 
“This isn’t some kind of joke, is it?” you finally questioned, managing to get somewhat of a grip on your psyche, “Because if it is, I’ll-” 
A sharp sting through your scalp cut you off as he tightened his fingers in your hair, following your silence with disappointed tongue clicks. 
“Do I really seem like the kind of man who would joke about something like this?” 
You shook your head slowly, muttering a defeated little “No sir” in response. Your efforts were rewarded with the release of your hair, hand tenderly cupping the nape of your neck instead. 
“I need to hear you say you want this before it goes any further,” he instructed you, firmly but gently.    
As your lips parted, you hesitated. Of course, you wanted this, but here? Now? Your eyes darted nervously to the cracked door before catching his once more. 
“I- I do but… König, anyone could come in and, god, you’re hurt and-”
You watched in awe, voice trailing off into silence, as he leaned in and pulled up his sniper hood, revealing a black gaiter which he promptly tugged down. The peek of a strong, square, jawline peppered with a short stubble made your eyes open wide in shock but your attention was quickly captured by his full lips, curled up into a smirk with a peek of sharp canines flashing through. Fuck, if only part of him was this gorgeous, you were afraid to see him completely bare. 
“As I have said, it’s not serious, and you’ve so graciously patched me up,” he purred softly, eyes boring holes into your sole as his lips almost touched yours, “Now, tell me kleines, do- you- want- this?”
“Yes, god, ple-”
Fingers dug hard into your soft sides as he finally captured your mouth in a gentle kiss and you instinctively stretched up to meet him, hands sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck in an attempt to convey just how badly you wanted him. Words weren’t your forte but actions… actions you could manage. 
A quiet groan escaped your lips as you felt his hips press against yours and hands came down to grab your ass. Your shock quickly turned into concern when you felt him start to lift you. 
“König, no!” you scolded him as you wiggled out of his grasp. 
The colonel had the gall to look confused by your rejection. 
You gestured to his freshly sewn stitches and bit out, “I don’t care how much you say it’s fine. I refuse to be the reason you pop your stitches and I’d rather not have to put a needle in your again. Just…” 
Your stern words trailed off as you saw the mild pink tinge across his upper cheeks. He was too adorable. Huffing out a low sigh, you rested your hands against his firm pecs and gently pushed him back toward the bed. 
“Lay down, I’m shutting the door real quick.”
Thankfully, he didn’t bother arguing, just turned with an annoyed grunt as you shut and locked the door. The annoyance in his eyes dropped the instant you carefully climbed up onto the bed with him, letting him guide you to sit over his thighs comfortably. 
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it in a way that you won’t get hurt,” you warned him. 
“Verdammte Hölle,” he scoffed lowly, fingers digging into the plush softness of your thighs, “Fine, if you insist, just get over here.” 
A gasp passed from your lips into his when he dragged you in closer and you felt the bulge of his cock already growing through his cargos. And what a fucking power rush that was, to know you were affecting one of the strongest men in existence. You! A short, chubby, nobody-famous nurse and this god-like man wanted you. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest as he guided your hips down against his, “König, I said-”
“You may be on top of me, but you are in no way in control, understood, Kätzchen?” he bit out huskily. 
Your heart stammered in your chest but you managed a little nod in response. Apparently subdued by your acceptance, his hands spurred you into motion once more, tearing a broken moan from your chest as his hardness pressed deliciously against the apex of your thighs. Even though clothing, he was working you up entirely too easily.  
He attacked your neck once more and growled out a terse, “Scheiße, I always knew you’d sound fucking beautiful like this. Mein kleines engel, so verdammt unschuldig und süß.” (My little angel, so fucking innocent and sweet)
While you had no idea what he said, it was clearly something sexual and you couldn’t help the way you shuddered. It was kind of funny. When you first met him, you’d been shocked by the pitch of his voice, having expected such a giant being to have a deep voice; and now… now you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Oh? Magst du es, wenn ich mit dir Deutsch spreche, mein dummes kleines Kätzchen?” (“Do you like when I speak German to you, my silly little kitten?”)
Instinctively, you ground down in search of relief as his voice filled your head and took over your thoughts. 
He chuckled softly and murmured, “You do like it. I can feel the way your sweet little cunt throbs against me each time. Do you always react this way when I speak German around you?” 
Your body froze at that, face heating and flushing down your chest as you finally understood what he was saying. No fucking way.
“You- You can feel it?” you asked meekly, hoping he’d say no. 
“Mmhmm, Deine kleinen Zuckungen sind so süß- Ah, there is it again,” he teased, “So, kleines? Is it like that every time?” (Your little twitches are so cute)
With a frustrated groan, you quietly admitted it before ducking down to bite onto his shoulder. You felt a thrill of satisfaction when you felt his cock jump between your thighs but didn’t even stop to gloat, too enthralled by the taste of his skin. You didn’t dare leave marks, unsure of the protocol for his position, but gods you wanted to. Maybe another time, if you were given the chance. Scraping your teeth across his flesh, you scooted back to sit farther down his thighs and began to make your way down his collarbone and chest until you were able to gently bite the meatiest part of his pec. 
“Ah, Scheiße!”
Before he could react further, you continued on and swiped your tongue across his nipple, earning a guttural moan and his fingers curled into the hair at the back of your head. For a moment, you questioned if he intended to stop you but, when he didn’t, you did it again. The little muffled curses he let out only worsened the mess in your panties and you had to restrain yourself from reaching down to ease the ache. It wasn’t until you were kneeling between his thighs and working at his belt that he finally stopped you.
“Kätzchen, just what do you intend to do?” he asked as you nibbled softly at the skin above his pants. 
You let out a huff and rolled your eyes up at him. 
“I intend to suck your cock, if that’s okay, colonel,” you shot back. 
He mumbled something quietly under his breath then added louder, “While I would love that, I don’t know how much time we have.” 
As you finally worked his belt open and began tugging his pants down, you couldn’t help but pout. 
“That’s not fair. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” you whined. 
The way his eyes rolled back and his hips arched made you grin. 
“And I would love to see those beautiful lips wrapped around my dick, but another time, kleines. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”
Your cunt clenched instinctively at that, at the promise of another chance to touch him, and you finally relented with a sigh. 
“Fine, fine, but you owe me later,” you replied, letting him pull you back over his lap. 
With a chuckle, he pulled you into a kiss and mumbled, “Of course, Schätzchen. Anything you wish, whenever you wish- except for right now.”
A flush crossed your face, deep and hot, as his words settled into your chest. When he began tugging at your jeans, you helped slide them and your panties down until they were hooked around just one leg. You weren’t given much time to ruminate on the feeling of your bare flesh against the scratchy fabric of his pants before the sensation of calloused fingers sliding down your slit stole both your attention and breath. 
“Ooh, look at you,” he crooned lowly, fingertips pushing between your lips and sliding back up until he found your clit, “So wet for me already.” 
Worrying your lower lip, your forehead rested against his cheek and your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded slowly. Of course, you were. Who wouldn’t be when Adonis was touching them? He moved slowly, gently, almost as if afraid to go faster. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. 
“Ich wünschte, ich könnte jetzt meine Zunge in dieser heißen kleinen Muschi haben. Ich wette, du schmeckst himmlisch.” (I wish I could have my tongue in this hot little pussy right now. I bet you taste like heaven.)
“Ffff-Fuck!”
A broken whine escaped your lips when he finally slipped a lone finger into your core and it took everything within you not to collapse at that moment. One of his felt like two of yours but reached even deeper. You couldn’t resist rocking into his motions as he carefully worked you open. 
You didn’t even get a chance to cover your mouth before he suddenly forced in a second one and curled them against your g-spot, a moan spilling from the big man beneath you as you mewled.  
“More,” he demanded as his other hand tugged up his hood once more and smashed his mouth against yours, “Again.” 
You didn’t stand a chance in hell at ignoring his commands with the way he began hooking his fingers in a constant come hither motion against your spongy patch of nerves. Tears burned in your eyes as you fought for breath against the onslaught of sensations plaguing your body. It’d been so long since you’d let anyone else touch you, relying on your own hand and toys for release, and fuck if it wasn’t overwhelming. 
“König, ple-please!” you begged weakly, unable to keep from trembling against him as he brought you dangerously close to the edge. 
For all his talk about not having time, he was surely taking his. His fingers felt incredible but you needed to feel his cock. 
“Yes, Kätzchen?”
“Want you. Need you, please!”
His low moan was the only answer you needed, shaky hands diving down to work the waistband of his pants lower and tug at his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open to focus, too lost in the delirium of your approaching climax and the pleasure dancing along your skin. 
When you finally pulled him free, you instantly shoved his hand away and shuffled up until his tip was kissing your entrance, but he halted your motions before you could do more. 
“Don’t go too fast, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt,” he instructed you gently. 
You barely managed to open your eyes enough to meet his and nodded hastily. Go slow. You could do that. And yet, when he finally allowed you to move, you were tempted to just slam down, no matter how massive he felt. However, your self-control prevailed, only held back by the reminder that he’d probably stop you if you got hurt. 
It wasn’t until you started to lower yourself and you felt the fat head of his cock begin to split you open that you really understood why he’d been warning you, prickles of pain and pleasure dancing behind your clenched eyes as you sucked in a harsh breath. It didn’t matter that you were soaking wet and more than ready, your body was fighting to take each inch. 
“That’s it, gutes Kätzchen, just like that,” he praised softly. (Good Kitten)
Finally, after what felt like forever, your hips settled down against his and you let out a little mewl of satisfaction. 
“Jesus fuck,” you breathed out huskily, “This feels- Fuck, I can’t even describe it.”
“I know.” 
His voice sounded as tightly wound as you felt. Every muscle in your body ached but none more than the throb of your core. 
“Can- Can I move?” you asked. 
“If you’re ready.”
Steading yourself with his broad shoulders, you lifted up and slowly dropped back down, nails digging into his skin as he touched every last inch inside of you. When your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks bloomed a deep red as you found him already staring at you with awe in his gaze. It would have been anxiety-inducing if it weren’t for the bruises his fingers were leaving on your hips and the quiet little grunts falling under his hood. Knowing he was watching you though, it was daunting and lit a flicker of doubt in your chest, demanding you do everything to make sure you looked and felt your best for him. 
“Ah, wait, here,” he gasped suddenly, halting your motions as he tugged up your T-shirt.
You almost stopped him, wary of fully exposing any parts of you that you felt uncomfortable about, but he was too quick. He tucked the hem into the neckline of your shirt and instantly tugged down the cup of your bra, one hand wrapping around and lifting your breast while the other hand palmed your back and jerked you forward until he could wrap his lips around your nipple with a heady groan. 
“Fuck, König!” you whimpered, shocks of bliss making you pulse around his cock.
His moan was loud against your flesh as his hand left your back and guided your hips into motion once more, the dual stimulation enough to make you shudder. Bit by bit, you were able to work up to a faster pace, until pleasure started to take hold of your mind and you lost all sense of rhythm, more focused on coming than putting on a good show. 
“Ohgodohgod ohmygod!” 
A heavy growl vibrated against your skin as he grunted out between kisses, “Oh Gott, das ist es Kätzchen, kommst du mich holen?” (Oh god, that’s it kitten, are you going to come for me?)
You buried your frantic cries into your palm as you felt tears begin to fall. It was too good, too much, and you fucking loved it. The burn of his cock stretching your walls brought you so close to the edge that it hurt, each thrust making your clit throb with need. You managed a panicked, muffled, plea and were rewarded with teeth sinking into your flesh and a calloused thumb on your sensitive nub, tearing a hellish screech from your lips as you were instantly pushed over the edge. Your hand barely contained the frantic moans pouring from your throat as he pushed you through the crest. Every swipe of his thumb and thrust of his cock brought on another wave of pleasure, again and again until you lost the ability to do more than exist. 
With an audible pop, he pulled back from your abused skin and relaxed back against the bed, moans starting to rival yours in volume as his hands took hold of your hips and his knees bent under you. When he started thrusting up to meet each bounce of your hips, the fog finally took over completely. Leaning back enough to wrap your hands around his forearms, you gave over that last bit of control and just followed his lead. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs became louder, faster, in the quiet room; a lewd soundtrack coupled with the squeaks of the medical bed and your unstifled noises of pleasure.
“Mein gott. Look at that face. Not a single thought going through that sweet little head of yours, is there?” he groaned, chuckling when you suddenly leaned forward and buried your face in his neck with a meek hum, “No, no, don’t be embarrassed, kleines. It’s a compliment to have such an intelligent woman so brainless from my cock.”
You instinctively clenched around him and nuzzled further into his neck out of mortification. God, that shouldn’t be hot! You shouldn’t like that and yet you do. How did he manage to weave together such sexual praises into something that sounded like genuinely sweet compliments? 
“Sit back up, now,” he commanded sternly, “I want to see that beautiful face when I come.”
The change in position instantly put your senses back on edge, the press of his cock against your sweet spot all too tantalizingly perfect as he muttered gentle praises and led you back into rhythm, words slowly dissolving into the most unholy whimpers and grunts you’d ever heard. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t make out a single thing he said, English long evolved into German between frantic moans of your name. 
Suddenly his grip became overwhelmingly painful and you let out a squeal of panic, but the pressure was easily forgotten in favor of bliss as he began to thrust into you violently. It was almost as if he were trying to fuck himself into your cervix, a scary thought knowing he had the length to do so, but every attempt you made to lift off of him and create space was thwarted by his superior strength. And gods, if that didn’t do the dirtiest things to you. Even when he released one hip, he was powerful enough to keep you in place with just one hand, the other suddenly reappearing between your thighs. 
“Oh- Oh god, yes, König, just-” 
All it took was a few circles around your sensitive clit before you were thrown over the edge once more with a scream. Wave after wave rocked through your body as you rode him hard, thighs shaking and heart pounding as you scratched at him and cried his name all too loudly.  
“Oh Scheiße, ich werde kommen, bitte, nicht aufhören, nicht aufhören, bitte, bitte, bitte!” (Oh shit, I'm gonna come, please, don't stop, don't stop, please please please!)
Even in German, his message was clear. Fighting through your own hazy pleasure, you tightened your thighs and clenched around his cock eagerly, whimpering his name and pleading with him to come. You weren’t given any warning as he suddenly grabbed your neck and jerked you down into a ravenous kiss, a mixture of high-pitched keening and growling moans pouring into your mouth like oxygen when he buried himself one last time to the hilt. 
Tremors ran through your being as you felt his cock twitching, heat filling you with each pulse, and you couldn’t help the tears suddenly building in your eyes again. 
“Holy fuck,” you whined against his lips. 
When you clenched around him again and tried to move your hips, he put a stop to it immediately, arms wrapping around you and trapping your body to his. 
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed darkly, “You start that andI won’t want to stop, and we definitely don’t have time for that.”  
A little grin crossed your lips as you melted into his hold and murmured, “Aye, aye, colonel.” 
His little snort of a laugh jostled you against his frame only for him to still and hold you tighter. You turned to rest your ear against his chest and listened to the steady heavy beat of his heart while your fingers trailed up and down his arms. 
“That was okay, right?” he asked after a moment, the uncertainty surprising. 
It took some effort to get him to let you go but you managed to finally sit up, hands slowly pushing up the edges of his mask to just until his lips were visible again, and you kissed him softly. 
“Better than I’ve imagined,” you whispered softly. 
He tensed for a moment before a little huff of a laugh puffed across your lips. 
“You’ve imagined this?” he asked back. 
Chewing your lower lip as you lifted again, you gave a shrug and replied, “Yeah, a lot, if I’m being honest. As you heard, you’re an intimidating man, colonel, but really, it only adds to your appeal.” 
It felt weird to be so openly blunt about your attraction to him but you supposed you were past the point of second-guessing things. His eyes searched your face intently for just a moment before he smiled, a warm, heart-pounding expression that made your knees weak. Fuck, maybe he hid his face for that reason. It wouldn’t do to have everyone tripping over themselves at his beauty. 
“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, “As much as I want to hold you longer, I’m afraid we should get decent before someone comes along and-”
“Fuck, yeah, you’re right!” you gasped, eyes darting to the door instinctively as you clambered off the bed. 
The moment you released your hold on him, your knees tried to give out but he was quick to give you a balancing hand. You thanked him quietly as you fixed yourself quickly- Well, as quickly as you could when your legs felt like jelly and your head was still spinning. When you were finally all dressed, he was carefully sliding his shirt back on. 
“Wait, let me make sure we didn’t tear anything loose.”
He gave you a look that told you how ridiculous he thought you were being, but he humored you with a sigh after a moment. Leaning in, you looked over the stitches and were happy to find everything still intact. 
“Good to go! Thank goodness,” you sighed happily, then flushed as you looked up at him, “Uh, you’ll have to come back in seven to ten days to get the stitches removed, which I’m sure you know. Other than that, just take it easy. Any damage you do will only prolong how long you’ll have to be on light duty.” 
“I see, and if I need assistance with any in the meantime? I can come to you?” he teased, eyes crinkling warmly at the edges.
Unable to hold in your grin, you replied, “Always. I’d be glad to help with anything you need, colonel. Just come find me.”
You tossed him a coy smile before making your way to the door, only to get spun and pushed up against the wood without warning. One big hand cupped your neck and forced your head up as he leaned in and kissed you, soft and light in a way that made your toes curl. 
“Sorry, needed one more,” he purred softly, chuckling as your face went hot. 
“Get out of here before I make up a reason to keep you here overnight,” you bit out teasingly. 
He gave you a mock salute before releasing you and allowing you to open the door. His gaze became soft once more when he studied you as you leaned against the door frame. 
“I’ll see you again soon. Have sweet dreams, Kätzchen.” 
“You too, König.”
When he finally walked away down the hall, you couldn’t help but watch him go. God, that man had the most perfect ass, and don’t even get started on that broad back. Biting back the flare of lust threatening to rekindle in your stomach, you ducked back into the office and ran a hand through your now-tangled locks, letting out a low sigh. The clock on the wall read two thirty in the morning, which meant you thirty minutes to get König’s chart typed up and then you could finally head home for the night. Thoughts of a hot shower and your soft bed had you groaning. Yeah, you were definitely going to sleep good tonight. 
“Sooo, how was your weekend?” Lisa asked, eyebrows jumping up and down in anticipation as you slid into the seat opposite her and Mark. 
You simply threw her a nonplussed look, not daring to give her any inclination. Lisa was good about keeping your feelings secret but you weren’t sure she could contain herself in public if you told her about what had happened with König, not to mention you didn’t want to chance him getting some sort of backlash if the fraternization rules applied to you. You’d have to do some research on that later if you two were going to meet up again at some point. Logically, seeing as you were contracted as a nurse and not as a solider, you hoped that you were outside of those rules but you weren’t certain.  
“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you lied seamlessly. 
She seemed to deflate at that. 
“Really? When I saw the colonel was back I had hoped…”
“Well, you hoped wrong,” you replied blandly, “I saw him but nothing happened. It’s fine, really. Probably for the best to maintain that professional boundary.” 
A body collapsing onto the bench beside you made you jump and nearly spill your food until you caught it at the last second, your heart racing from the shock until you saw it was one of Mark’s buddies at your side. 
“Hey, Ian,” Mark greeted, “What’s up?”
He was obviously as confused about his friend’s appearance as you were, but your confusion didn’t last long when he suddenly turned to face you. 
“So, I heard from a little birdie that you were single right now. Is that true?” Ian pressed, lips quirking up into a grin.
You shot a deadly look at Mark, earning a silent apology as his face heated, before you addressed the private next to you.
“I am but-”
“Great! You should come out with me Friday night! I have a weekend pass and I need a pretty lady to take with me to the city!” 
Well, shit. You knew nothing about Ian. You hoped he was a decent guy and wouldn’t be upset over you rejecting him since he was Mark’s friend but men were tricky. How were you supposed to turn him down without hurting or angering him? As your lips parted to answer, a massive hand suddenly slid around your throat and silenced you. Eyes wide in fear, you let out a shocked whimper and froze in place, only to catch the familiar scent of a warm cologne as a hard body pressed against your back. 
“There you are, liebling, I’ve been searching all over for you.”
König. Oh. Fuck. Tilting your head back at his insistence, you let your eyes meet his icy blues, obviously crinkled in joy. When his fingers tightened around your throat, you couldn’t help the way your face flushed in delight, your entire body warming with insatiable need as he descended and planted a loud smacking kiss on your forehead.
“Come now, I’ve brought lunch for us.” 
The entire table was silent during the exchange and you could practically feel Lisa vibrating in her seat, but you didn’t dare look away from him to address her. Nodding once, you rose to your feet where he finally released your throat. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you instinctively scooted closer, enjoying the body heat and comfort he put off.
“I’ll uh- I’ll see you guys later,” you threw back as he led you out of the canteen. 
The walk was quiet as he dragged you through the halls until he finally stopped at his office. With a little murmur, König opened the door and ushered you in first. The moment the door slammed shut, you were unceremoniously shoved against it, a little oomph escaping your lips at the impact. A weak moan left your lips as you felt his breath against your ear.
“Ungezogenes kleines Kätzchen,” he purred huskily “From now on, you will let it be known that you’re with me, got it?” (Naughty little kitten)
You hesitated before nodding and replied, “Y-Yes sir. I wasn't sure- I didn’t know what-” 
“Shh, shh, I know, schatz. It is not your fault. I didn’t make my intentions quite clear. You belong to me now.”
A shudder ran down your spine, forcing a moan low in your throat as you practically preened under his possessive claim. Despite the threatening tone, you felt no fear. If anything, it turned you on more than ever. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now get on my desk,” he instructed. 
Your confused glance was met with a smirk and a wink as he pulled away. 
“I prefer to have my dessert first, Kätzchen. We can eat lunch after.” 
789 notes · View notes
if-loves · 2 months
Text
a dream of nothing.
// Yandere Sunday
sum: Sunday is a good man.
wc: 1343
a/n: likes & reblogs appreciated! asks are welcome ❤️
Tumblr media
Penacony, the land of dreams; Penacony, the planet you’ve come to call home.
You’re not a native of this dreamland, and no matter how much you attempt to assimilate into the culture, you always feel like you’re standing on a completely different stage, miles away from Penacony. You haven’t been back to your home in a long time, but you haven’t been counting the days.
Everyone has been kind. They offer you help the second you look like you need it, unsolicited tips and advice when it comes to their mind. Everyone has tried their best to help you in the ways they know how, and you couldn’t be more grateful… So why is it that there’s a gaping hole in your chest, exactly where your heart is supposed to be?
Sunday married you out of love, a grand wedding held in your names in Blue Hour, a gorgeous ceremony taking place on the lovely Eventide boat, reception on the marvelous airship, the Radiant Felspar; it was certainly the event of the era. As fondly as you’d like to look back on those memories, you find yourself looking at them with an emotion you can’t quite describe.
It’s not happiness, nor is it anger. It’s neither sadness nor disgust, but something in between all of it? It’s not indifference either, because whatever you feel is strong, but not so strong that you’ve felt an urge to act upon it. No, whatever it is that you’re feeling, is worse than all of those emotions combined - precisely because you don’t know what you’re feeling.
These feelings taint your every thought, and as much as you would like to do anything else, you don’t quite know your way around the mansion. It’s up to Sunday or one of the Bloodhounds to take you to the library or the dining hall, and it’s up to them to bring you back to the room. You’re only afforded the outside when it is Sunday who graciously brings you to it, but never when you request for it.
How long has it been since you’ve been in Penacony? No one tells you anything, not even the flowers. They stay the same, frozen in time, forever in the state of blooming but never rotting, forever beautiful but never loved. No one cares for things until they are gone, and if something never leaves, then no one really has to care.
Sunday is a good man. You think so, at least. He has some peculiar traits, but everyone has something about them that makes them unique. He has never made you doubt his love for you, and he has done nothing but love you faithfully. He’s happy to tell you vague details about his work, of course much of it confidential due to their political nature, and he always enjoys listening to you speak about yours, no matter how mundane and uninteresting it is to you.
Sunday likes hearing your voice, you think. You hope so. He never lets you sleep without saying an “I love you”, and he never leaves without an “I love you” from you. Surely that means something, right?
“Darling, what’s got you worked up? Your face is scrunching up the same way it always does when you start to think.” Sunday snaps you out of your train of thoughts, a gloved hand tilting your chin up for your eyes to look at him. He has a gentle smile on his face as he always does, his wings fluttering and his golden halo gleaming.
“A-ah, Sunday, it wasn’t anything really!” You reply in a bit of a daze, still reeling from his sudden appearance.
“I hope so. You have nothing to worry about here, so there’s no need to think so hard. If you have any troubles, you know I’m always here.” His right hand slides down from your chin to your left hand, and before you know it he has forced you to stand and twirl, leading you right into his arms. With fondness in his eyes, he closed the distance between your lips, a kiss so enchanting you’re not quite sure what it was you were thinking about before.
You feel the heat on your cheeks as you part, suddenly too shy to look into his eyes. Sunday chuckles and it’s a pleasing sound, like a bell tinkling, and you think you could listen to it forever, held in his arms in this position, a moment after a kiss, a moment before another.
Instinctively, you lean in for another, eyes already half-lidded and arms around his neck, but your lips never meet their destination, a crash stopped by a buffer of wings. He smiles easily, a hand on your cheek as he leans down to whisper in your ear in an almost sinful manner - but never is it a sin, you think, not when it is Sunday.
He leads you to the dining hall, your hands intertwined, but you no longer feel at peace. There are voices that speak to you, forcing you to be their sole audience in their never-ending play of torment and despair. Sometimes… sometimes there are things staring at you, something with bright pink - purple? - eyes, and you start to think that those voices are real.
Something lurks in the corners of this mansion, and you think it’s out for you.
Sunday says otherwise, though. He looks concerned, but you don’t feel like the concern is directed to your worries specifically - no, it’s directed to you. Like there’s something wrong with you. And… and maybe he’s right. No normal person would hear these voices or feel eyes on them, no normal person would feel uneasy about the people around them, and no normal person would dislike the thought of a flower never dying. You, you other the other hand -
Sunday is always right, you’ve come to realize. And he’s right about you - you’ve known that for a long time now. You’re a silly girl who once thought the universe was your oyster when you could barely leave your own planet without hesitation and reluctance. You’re a silly girl who took the first opportunity you were given, ignorant of any repercussions that would shape your future - yet still jumped into the unknown with fear, when the first rule of survival is never let them smell your fear.
Now, now? You’re stuck in the predator’s maw… and it’s become the only place you feel safe in, in between layers of sharp and venomous teeth, living in between the unsaid threat of a dreamless sleep, living in between the safety of the threat of death.
You don’t like what lies outside your room. You don’t like the puzzles and tricks, and you don’t like the people. There’s… there’s something wrong… but there’s no one who will listen to you, and there’s no one you can trust. Can you even trust yourself?
Everything is a blur, and you can’t - don’t? - remember anything. Is this a self-defense mechanism, or the artful plan of someone? Walls are nothing but a splash of color, patterns sunk into nothingness, faces are all but the same, mashed into one. Individuality, singularity? Who even are you?
“Goodnight, my beloved.” Sunday says, and you feel something being draped over you. Your eyes blink rapidly, trying to make sense of your surroundings, but the fabric of silk gloves close them without hesitation.
“I love you.” The words that come out of your mouth don’t feel like your own.
“I love you too. Now, sleep.” The door opens and closes, and you’re left alone as you always are, in the safety of this room, awaiting sleep within a dream. What was it that you were thinking about, again?
Ah, that feeling. Yes, that feeling of not happiness but not sadness, not anger but not disgust, something in between but not indifference… Perhaps numbness or nothing is the closest you’ll get. What’s the point in trying to figure it out? It’s not important.
Is there even a “night” in the land of dreams?
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hellsite-detective · 5 months
Note
Could you please tell the story of how you and Madame Curator got together? I love those kinds of stories!
ah! a wonderful story that i love telling!
see, me and Madame Curator met on tumblr! no surprise there. i was just going about my day when suddenly i started getting all of my queerplatonic yearning posts on my main blog spam liked. i looked to see who was doing it and noticed she was also reblogging a lot of them. i went to the blog she was reblogging them to and noticed her pinned post was all about wanting a qpr, and she specifically wanted the exact same things i wanted!
so, because i’m socially awkward and don’t know how to just message people, i opened my ask box on my main blog. and by some miracle she sent an ask in! specifically saying that she hopes im able to find a queerplatonic relationship one day. after that, i messaged her and was like “heeyyyy so you seem super cool!! we should talk moooore” and then we did talk more! and like… two weeks of constant messaging later, i messaged her and was like “hey so i kinda maybe possibly want to be in a qpr with you!” but in a super vague way. she said she wasn’t interested and we went about our conversations like normal
the next day! she messaged me being like “okay actually remember when you asked me out? well i think we should revisit that because i maayyybe realized i like you too.” then a couple days later we had a detailed discussion about what we would both want out of a queerplatonic relationship and setting boundaries and then we just ended up together!!
i’ve never believed in “soulmates” (i’m too aroace for that) but after everything that’s happened with her… i’ve started believing it. she’s just amazing and i’m so glad that i met her!
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