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aikatoru · 3 hours

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Exile

Gojo Satoru x reader x Toji Fushiguro Summary

Gojo was your first, he meant the world to you. What happens if he doesn’t feel the same?

Notes: This is a repost from my old blog @/fuyuaika

Words: 1190

Warnings: Angst, suggestive themes, casual sex, moving on, hints of corruption kink, virginity loss.

Tagging: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @alucardstan

Dividers by @saradika

He watches you like a hawk, the way your eyes crinkled when you smile, the way your laughter fills up the room and the way your arm was wrapped around the man beside you and not him.

You looked as beautiful as ever, better than when he last saw you. The memory still imprinted on the back of his mind, the way tears fell from your eyes as you begged him to stay and to not break up with you.

He thought that you were just a fling, that he could just forget about you, he didn’t think that after he broke up with you, he’d be missing the way you wake him up with kisses on his cheeks, the way you’d make his lunches, the way you’d call out his name when you were in bed together.

He was prideful however and brushed it off.

He wasn’t meant to be tied down to one woman, he was Gojo Satoru and the world revolves around him. He ignored your texts, your calls and started seeing other women. And of course, they fell to his feet. But every single time he ends up in bed with another woman, he finds himself comparing them back to you. It got so bad that at one point he called out your name during sex.

By the time he realizes what he had done, how he stupidly let go of the love of his life, it was already too late, you had already moved on. You who was so heartbroken was left to pick up the pieces and forced to move on.

For weeks you cried for him, trying to talk to him, calling him and texting him but to no avail. You felt your heart ache when you saw him posting pictures with other women. Your friends had warned you before you started dating him that he was a player, that he breaks women’s hearts left and right, that you should stay away from him but like the fool you were, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He was sweet to you, he said all the right things, did all the right things and he was amazing in bed. Teaching you new things and bringing you to greater heights of pleasure each time. You thought that what you had was something really special, you were really falling for the man.

So imagine the hurt you felt when he told you that he wanted to break up with you, telling you that you were way too clingy and that he needed space. You could feel yourself breaking, falling apart, this was the man who you thought was your soulmate, who you were meant to end up with.

All future plans shattered within seconds. He was your first everything, you had never been with a man the way you’ve been with him. Your friends comforted you, telling you that it wasn’t the end of the world but for you it sure felt like it was.

And after months of crying and moping around, you finally managed to pick yourself up and start living your life the way it was before you met him. You swore never again to fall in love and that was when you met Toji.

Toji who was a single dad struggling to take care of an infant son. What started out as you just helping out around the house ends up with you in his bed under him, clawing at his back as he pounds into you leading you to multiple orgasms.

Toji who’s wife died 2 years ago and hasn’t dated since. Toji who fell in love with the way you’re able to interact with Megumi. Toji who fears that he might lose you and decides to put a ring on it.

So here you were now, in a cafe, arm wrapped around your newly wed husband. Shiny diamond ring glistens in the light, resting on your little finger.

Unbeknownst to you that you were being watched by the ghost of your past.

As you both exited the cafe and Toji tells you to wait while he gets the car, you heard your name being called. You sucked in a breath as you turned and finally caught sight of him, the bane of your existence.

“Gojo…” you breath out in disbelief,

“Hey there Y/N…” he says with a smile.

“How are you Y/N?”

“I’m good Gojo, how about you?” Talking for the sake of being polite, this wasn’t you, this wasn’t the you he remembered. Usually you’d call him by his first name, he hated that you were both practically strangers now.

And finally he admitted, “I miss you Y/N…”

“Gojo…I don’t know what to say…”

“I miss the way you snort when you laugh, I miss the sound of your voice, I miss having you around the house, I just fucking miss you Y/N,” he says breaking down, tears forming in his crystal blue eyes.

“Please come back to me…”

You could feel your heart ache, he was saying all the words that you had wanted to hear in so long, and maybe if he’d done this earlier, you’d go back to him. Maybe, just maybe.

Instead you sighed, “I can’t Gojo, I’m sorry.”

“Please Y/N, I promise that I’ll be better. That I would never break your heart again. If you would just give me another chance-“

“-I’m married.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air for some time until finally he spoke again,

“I’m sorry you’re married? But we broke up just 5months ago…”

“Oh don’t judge me, when you were already off sleeping with another woman not five seconds after we broke up!”

You were absolutely right, he has no right to judge you.

“Ok, ok yeah…I’m an asshole and you’re right I have no right to judge you.”

“That’s right ,” you agreed.

“So how long has it been?” He asked.

“3 weeks now, we just came back from our honeymoon,” you said unconsciously smiling.

He noticed, “Is he treating you right?”

“Yup, better than you ever did.”

He could feel a pang in his heart at the comment but he knew that he deserved it.

“That’s great, congratulations…I’m happy for you,” he spoke.

“Thanks Gojo. And I wish the same for you, happiness.”

Suddenly there was the honk of the car and Toji calling out to you.

“That’s my ride, I have to go now Gojo. It was nice seeing you.”

He nodded, “Nice seeing you too Y/N.”

And he watched as you got in the car and drove off with a man that wasn’t him.

“Who were you talking to honey?” Toji asked keeping his eyes on the road,

“Oh it’s nothing, just an old friend…” you replied, looking out the window. Flashes of what could have been, going through your mind, if only things didn’t turn out the way it did. Not that you weren’t grateful for Toji and Megumi but they could never take the part of your heart that belongs to him and only him.

Life being so casually cruel.

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starpros-sunshine · 1 year

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HAVE YOU SEEN HIM HAVE YOU TAKEN A LOOK AT HIM HAVE YOU BEHELD HIM I AM SOOOOOO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

#you ever see a man so beautiful you want to start crying #the #is that a dress?#wait hold on is that a dress?#or it is like the acanthe outfits #any way it's stunning #magnificent #Wonderful even!#aaaaaaaaaah I love him so much I adore him #hibiki wataru

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nat-20s · 2 years

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*slams fist on my desk* BRING ME PICTURES OF EXTREMELY PRETTY MARTIN BLACKWOOD

#tma #martin blackwood #in reality i am asking nicely #i see hot martin rights a decent amount but i want to see a fat beautiful man #i want it to make me say have you ever seen a man so beautiful you started crying

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hxltic · 9 months

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ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)

(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)

pt. 1~~~

It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.

The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.

You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.

Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.

“Wait—”

There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.

He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.

Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.

He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.

Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.

The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.

He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.

Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.

He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.

“Please. Wait.”

You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.

Do you book it, or stay?

You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”

He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.

His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.

Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.

He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.

So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.

He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.

He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.

But that was far from what he wanted to say.

He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.

The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.

These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.

. .

You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.

He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.

Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.

He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.

He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.

Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.

He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?

With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.

And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.

So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.

He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.

His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.

You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.

The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.

A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.

You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.

Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.

“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.

You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.

Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.

“Fuck!” you yell.

The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.

Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.

You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.

“Get out,” you demanded.

“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.

You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.

He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.

He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.

Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”

No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.

“When did-“

“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.

He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.

“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.

“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.

“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”

He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.

“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.

“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”

What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.

“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”

You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.

You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.

It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.

You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.

“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”

You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.

Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.

And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.

You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.

“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”

You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.

“One,” he starts.

Were you ready? He was going to-

You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.

You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.

“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”

You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.

“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.

“I know baby, I know.”

. .

You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.

“You alright?”

He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.

You just nod.

He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.

The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.

“I just wanted to say—”

“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.

“Please?”

His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.

And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.

“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”

Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.

“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”

Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.

“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”

You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.

You would be pissed too.

But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.

“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.

But you already had an answer.

“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.

His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.

“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.

On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.

“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.

He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.

And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.

this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor

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msvanillalatte · 4 months

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Feel You Deep

NSFW. MDNI.

WARNINGS: Smut, piv, overstimulation, dom Theo, sub reader, praising, dumbification, a bit of subspace, begging, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, use of the name daddy (not always), breeding kink, size kink?, a tiny bit of aftercare.

Let me know if I missed any, please!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

Theo's tip was teasing your clit. You needed him inside you after hours of edging, eating your cunt like a starved man, never letting you feel the true orgasm.

-"You wanna feel me inside you, sweetheart? Just a bit more, I promise, and you'll have my cock deep inside your pussy."

Theo said making you moan and whimper at the dirty talk.

-"Please Theo, please. i.. I need you. I need to feel you please please"

Theo smirked as you begged, watching your arousal mixed with his saliva spilling out of your little cunt.

-"I don't think it will fit, love. What do you think? Can this little pussy take my big cock? Hm?"

Theo said teasingly, making your cunt clench around nothing, feeling even more frustrated.

-"It will! I know it will! I'll take it like a good girl, please, please, I need to feel y... OH!"

You moaned when Theo pushed the tip inside you, your walls stretching and pulsating with desire. Theo looked at you with dark eyes, filled with lust.

-"You wanna come, sweetheart? There's not going back, yeah? I'm sure you'll take it all like a good girl."

Theo slowly pushed his cock all the way, your walls swallowing and almost suffocating him. He was completely inside you, feeling him everywhere. His tip was brushing your cervix, making you cry out in pleasure, but he let you adjust.

-"Look at that, pretty. Look at how good you're taking me, such a good girl. Fuck... Such a tight little pussy, so perfect around me."

At a slow peace, Theo started thrusting inside you deeply, making you moan his name over and over again. Your cunt was aching to be filled to the brim, just like now. Theo groaned, kissing your neck.

-"S.. so big. Oh my god! That feels so good T... THEO!"

You moaned loudly when the tip of Theo's cock hit that little spongy spot that makes your pussy clench and scream. Surely, the neighbours already know what's happening.

Theo's thrusting speeded, always hitting that spot, making you see blurry and tear up, it felt so good. Your moans were high, Theo hardening even more while hearing your desperate screams and praising you.

-"You like that, huh? Feels good, honey? Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll make you feel good, fill you with my babies, yeah? Good fucking girl"

Theo was kissing your neck, thrusting into you and sneaking his hand between you two to rub your clit, it was so overwhelming. Your walls clenched even more, indicating that you were close.

-"T... Theo, I'm close, please please please let me cum. Please"

-"Go ahead pretty girl, make a mess on my cock. Milk me, yeah? I've got you, so pretty when you make those noises and tighten around me."

And with that you came around Theo's dick, while his hand was still circling your clit. He rode out your orgasm, but didn't stop. He kept thrusting into you, and dirty talking. You knew that Theo had high stamina, but you hoped that he was close.

-"S'too much! Feels good!"

-"I know beautiful, I know, you did so well, but you can take more. Take daddy's cock like a good girl, yeah? You can."

Theo was thrusting even faster now, but it was difficult for him, your walls were the tightest they've ever been, making it hard to pull out.

-"Sweetheart, I need you to relax for me. I promise it'll feel good, c'mon, you can do it. Let daddy push all the way in. Oh, look at that, do you feel me in your stomach, angel?"

Theo said while looking at the bulge that appeared in your belly when he thrusted. He presses down on it, getting you to your high even faster, his cock hitting your cervix.

-"I'm so deep inside you, baby. Want me to breed you like my own little slut? Fucking hell, you feel like heaven, my girl."

Theo's praise brought you to your second orgasm, triggering his first one. You were shaking, but Theo didn't stop. He was breeding you like he owned you, and his thrusting didn't slow down, in fact, he went harder.

-"Theo! I can't take it, please, no more, no more... P... PLEASE!"

Theo didn't stop, he wanted to see you break one last time. He wanted to see you convulse underneath him, he wanted to feel you spasm around his cock. His mind was filled with absolute lust.

-"Pretty girl, weren't you the one begging for my cock before? I know you can take one more, honey. For me, yeah?"

You started scratching Theo's back while he rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves and left hickeys all over you. It was too much, you were completely in subspace, not even thinking. He was fucking you dumb.

-"You look so beautiful when you moan like that, does my cock filling you up and stretching you feel good? I bet it does, you're clenching so tight 'round me. Oh fuck... If you keep doing that I'll come again, sweetheart. So pretty for me, only for me, yeah? Let me feel you cum around my cock one last time."

That was it. You came. Hard. Your thighs started shaking, your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sight in front of Theo was mesmerising, making him come inside you again.

-"Fuck, look so pretty like this, honey, yeah, take it, I'm filling you up like a good girl, so filthy with my babies."

Theo pulled out of you, feeling exhausted. He was lying on top of you, both breathing heavily. You couldn't move your legs, they felt sore and all of your body was sweaty.

-"You did so good sweetheart, wanna take a bath? Yeah, let me help you."

Theo carried you to the bathroom and cleaned you up while praising you. When he was done he dressed you up and himself and cuddles in the bed.

-"I love you so much, my perfect princess."- Theo said while kissing your forehead.

-"Love you too, Theo."- You sleepily said and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

1036 words.

SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR OR MISTAKE IN GENERAL, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!! :)

-MsVanillaLatte

#harry potter #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #smut #fanfic #oneshot #writing #fluff #fiction #hp #hp fandom #slytherin

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smuthospital · 7 months

Text

⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

#non con #lemon #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere husband #dead dove do not eat

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hs-is-loml · 10 months

Text

Ever Letting Go. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: while the f1 couples are slowly breaking up, fans are stressed and try to protect the last ferrari wag standing.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Angela Giakas

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads

a/n: this was extremely fun to make

all translations of french come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by selenagomez, harrystyles, charles_leclerc, and 1,591,728 others

yourusername here's two pics from my little vacation 🥰

view all 120,374 comments

welovey/n are you guys seeing all the tweets about charles and y/n?!

→ thatonebakucorner people are so funny 😭

→ pleasemarrymey/n the lightning mcqueen ones took me out

selenagomez always a beauty! 🤍

danielricciardo did you get me the wine i asked for?

→ landonorris not fair you were allowed to ask for something?!

→ yourusername yes, i got it, danny. and lando, quit whining you know i got you something too

childofdivorce is charles not with her??

→ ihavetrustissues he better be.

→ y/nismother istg those rumors better not be true

→ protectthewags if he's not, he's crying in a corner somewhere

whatacrossover not harry liking y/n's post knowing she's got a bf

→ y/nisaneed he's ready for when that crybaby messes up

→ gayforf1wags no, i think it was my turn next...

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,461,537 others

charles_leclerc guys, who do you think took the damn pictures of y/n anyways? besides that as if i would ever let y/n go. mon amour, c'est toi et moi pour toujours. (my love, it's you and me forever)

view all 195,182 comments

landonorris did you see the lechair tweet?😭

→ charles_leclerc oh, fuck off

→ carlossainz55 the lightning mcqueen ones were even better

→ charles_leclerc not you too, mate...

welovey/n charles fr said "my woman" when saw the tweets about harry stealing his girl

→ oneaddiction we know harry could if he wanted to tho...

→ charlesandy/nforever as if y/n isn't as down bad for charles as he is for her

yourusername i'll love you always, mon chéri❤️ (my darling)

→ liked by charles_leclerc and 1,596

scuderiaferrari our favourite couple!

pierregasly don't let charles fool you, he was starting to sweat when the harry styles liked y/n's post...

→ charles_leclerc i know where you are right now, and i'll come after you.

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, tchalamet and 1,941,979 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who was so worried about us on twitter and our insta comments. you guys are so incredibly funny, and you bet i showed that lechair guy all memes about him (he secretly loved it). charles and i are doing absolutely amazing! also here's some more pictures from our vacation together, he truly makes me the happiest, and i will forever be grateful for him❤️

view all 132,054 comments

yourusername p.s i got him the new watch from my story just for vacation lol... richard mille please do not come after my bf

landonorris ew couples🤢

danielriccarido you should've let them freak out more tbh

→ liked by yourusername and 237 others

y/n'ssecretlover the fact you guys were completely okay while the hashtag "savey/nandcharles" was trending on twitter 😭

carlossainz55 charles is still staring at your pictures, so give him a second to comment...

→ f1wags not carlos exposing charles, give the man a break

→ charlesstolenwatch fr stressing him out more than xavi during a race

charles_leclerc mon amour, thank you for always sticking with me ❤️

→ yourusername 💋💋

zendaya girl, i know how twitter gets, and they're insane

→ yourusername they make up the craziest things!

gayfory/n my praying worked.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc social media au #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc headcanon #fanfic #fluff #social media au

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criminalamnesia · 3 months

Text

ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

2K notes · View notes

rosygaze · 11 months

Text

cupid

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

summary: you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll finally take mercy when you meet eddie.

warnings: reader insecurity, slight period misogyny, mostly fluff, eddie being a cutie patootie, inspired by cupid by fifty fifty <3

word count: 2.4k+

masterlist

You were starting to think that Cupid had a personal vendetta against you.

Three failed dates in a row, all with different guys.

You were optimistic about the first date. After hitting it off with a friend of a friend at a party, you agreed to go on a date with them—a simple movie and dinner. Only you didn’t make it to dinner since your date started hysterically sobbing after watching the newest rom-com. Apparently, he was missing his ex, and seeing two people in love on screen was the breaking point.

The second date came and went. Another movie and dinner but this time you actually made it to dinner. Which you quickly regretted when he kept trying to play footsie with you under the table. At the end of the date, he leaned in for a kiss. You panicked and dodged which had your date kissing the brick wall behind you instead. You didn’t hear back from him again.

On your third date, you lowered your expectations exponentially. You wanted to play it safe and have a coffee date. It started out normal enough. In fact, you were even having fun. He made you laugh until the conversation drifted to the topic of the future. You told him you wanted to get out of this small town and get a job.

For some reason, that made him extremely upset. He started talking about how women shouldn’t ever work and that the only work you should do is cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, and all that 1950s bullshit. You stared at him, mouth agape, not knowing how to respond.

When he was done with his tirade, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. You waited a few seconds before jumping out of your chair and sprinting out of the coffee shop at a speed that should’ve qualified you for the Olympics. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the park down the street and sat down on the empty bench to catch your breath. You looked at your surroundings and grimaced.

Couples.

Everywhere.

A couple having a picnic on the grass. A couple kissing sweetly on the bench across from you. An elderly couple taking a midday stroll. There was even a pair of kids hugging while their parents cooed at them. It’s like the universe was playing some cruel prank on you.

Did Cupid enjoy watching your love life crash and burn? Did he take some sick enjoyment out of hitting you with one of his arrows and shoving you in the direction of another failed love interest?

What was so great about love anyways? It can’t possibly be as good as all the movies and songs made it out to be. Surely, everyone had to be lying or delusional.

And yet…

You wondered what love was like.

The kind of love that kept you smiling all day, that made you see the beauty in the world. The type that swept you off your feet and made you feel like floating through the clouds. The type that completed you.

This is why you kept going on these dates, giving that little cherub second chances in case he finally takes mercy on you and gives you the right man.

Because someone had to be out there for you. Right?

You groaned and slid down the bench enough for you to lean your head on the back of the bench. Watching the clouds float across the sky, you wished the overwhelming loneliness in your chest could float away just as easily. Tears pricked your eyes and you tried desperately not to let them fall. You would not cry here, not in public. You can save the crying for your room like you usually did.

Despite your best efforts, tears still trickled down your cheeks. You huffed in frustration. You are pathetic.

All of a sudden a sharp pain shot from your head. Your eyes shot open and you sat up. With crossed eyes, you could make out a blurry form of a stick. You gripped the stick and realized that it was literally stuck to your head by suction. You dug your nails into the sides of the rubber to release it. Rubbing your forehead, you finally got a closer look at the toy arrow that hit you.

What. the. hell.

You glanced around the park, looking for who could’ve hit you. Turning around until you faced the open field behind you where you saw two people: a short, curly-haired kid and a tall, long-haired man.

The latter was holding a toy bow looking incredibly guilty.

You blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, in shock about what happened. The boy nudged him and he came stumbling forward. You stood up as well and wiped your tears away. God, you hoped you didn’t have a giant red circle on your face.

The ten-foot distance between the two of you felt bigger than it was. The awkwardness alone almost made you turn around but you pushed through. Once you were close enough, you stopped and took him in.

Everything about him screamed ‘danger’. He wore a black shirt that said ‘Coroded Coffin’ and dark jeans with a chain hanging from his belt. You wondered how he wasn’t sweating under the sun.

Black polish chipped off his nails and a collection of chunky rings adorned his fingers. Trailing your eyes up, you saw the patches of dark ink etched into his skin. He was all hard features and sharp edges that had you slightly antsy but when you finally met his eyes, that feeling flew out the window.

He had these big baby browns that softened his entire look. His long hair was wild and framed his face. The combination made him look slightly like a puppy. He had full, pink lips that opened and closed slightly as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

Stop ogling him. He shot a projectile at you.

You cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “I assume this is yours?” You held the arrow out to him.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and took the arrow from your hand gently. “Yeah! I’m really, really sorry. I swear I wasn’t aiming for -” He stopped mid-sentence and you saw his eyes flicker with worry. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt that much.” You waved a hand over your forehead, dismissively.

“No, not that but I am glad to hear I didn’t hurt you.” He smiled lightly but as fast as it came, a frown settled in its place. “You were, uh… were you crying?”

Taken aback, you furrowed your brows at him. How he could’ve known? “Uh…”

“Sorry! That’s weird. It’s really not my place. It’s just… your eyes are red but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He rambled and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually paid attention to you like this.

“I’m okay.” He nodded but, ultimately, didn’t look convinced. You sighed. “I just had a bad date.”

“He didn’t hurt you did he? We can track him down. I’ve got a weapon.” He held up the plastic bow.

You giggled and that made him relax just a tad. His shoulders dropped and the wrinkle between his brows smoothed over. “He didn’t, don’t worry. No need to wield a deadly weapon on him.”

“Yet.” He narrowed his eyes at you but had a playful smirk.

“Yet.” You copied his expression. The tension had disappeared and lighthearted laughter took its place.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He introduced himself.

Eddie. It suited him, you thought.

You gave him your name. A charming smile tugged on his lips and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Pretty.” Eddie said under his breath.

Your cheeks flushed even more.

“Eddie, did you get the arrow?” A voice called from behind Eddie. You peered over his shoulder and saw the younger boy. Only now did you notice that he was decked out in a full medieval costume, his curly hair peeking over the edge of his pointy hat.

“Yeah, dude.” Eddie held up the arrow.

“Then come on! You gotta help me with my shield.” The boy whined which made you chuckle slightly. Eddie looked back at you and smiled.

“In a sec, man!” He yelled back but kept his eyes on you. A childish groan came from behind Eddie which had him rolling his eyes playfully. “Sorry about that.”

“Your brother?” You asked.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, surprise clear in his voice. “Yeah, he is.” A fond smile spread across his face. You could see the resemblance in their unruly curls.

“So, what’s with the outfit?” Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you could see Dustin practicing with the shield, swinging it at invisible monsters.

“He’s testing out his costume for the Faire.” He said, casually.

“The Faire?”

“The Renaissance Faire?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You shook your head, not understanding. “It’s like an amusement park for history buffs. People dress up, eat, drink, roleplay. It’s great.” He explained.

“Have you been before?” You wanted to hear more, both equally fascinated by the concept and Eddie’s voice.

“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s the little guy’s first time and he wants to go all out. He said he wanted to try his costume out in the correct environment. He’s a bit of a nerd like that and that’s saying something coming from me. King of the nerds, right here.” Eddie held his arms out as if presenting himself and bowed low. You smiled at him.

You haven’t stopped smiling since he made you laugh the first time. “It’s sweet that you spend time with him like that.”

“It’s nothing, really. He’s a special kid.” He scratched the back of his head. You tried not to notice the slight flex in his muscles.

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.” You said, managing to pull your eyes away from his arms.

“You know.” Eddie started, looking a bit timid. “I’ve got an extra ticket. You could come with us if you want. It’s this weekend in Indianapolis.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Eddie stepped a quarter of an inch closer to you. The proximity made you the slightest bit dizzy. “Maybe you’d have some fun. Forget about the asshole who made you cry.”

“The asshole?” Your eyebrow quirked up.

“Every man who makes a woman cry is an asshole and should be jailed.” He said with the most serious expression that you knew he wasn’t joking around.

“My, what a gentleman.” You found yourself inching closer to him too.

“My uncle taught me well.” Eddie puffed his chest out proudly. “So what do you say?”

“The Faire does sound really fun.” You paused. “But I think you should spend time with your brother. Since it’s his first time and everything.” “Oh, y-yeah. You’re right.” Eddie’s cheeks were turning red. He started to move back when you spoke again.

“But… maybe you could tell me all about it after? Over coffee?” You offered, biting your lip shyly.

Eddie froze then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?” You nodded, just as excited. “Fuck yeah! I’d love to.”

“I should… uh, give you my number. So you can call me?” That initial bout of confidence was fading away. The intensity of Eddie’s gaze made your knees weak.

“That seems like a good plan.” He nodded.

You pulled your pen out of your bag and dug around for a piece of paper but you couldn’t find anything. Pausing to think, your eyes drifted to the spattering of tattoos on Eddie’s arm. “May I?” You pointed at the back of his hand.

“Go ahead.” He gave you his hand. “I’m not afraid of some ink.”

You let his hand rest on your palm while your other hand scribbled your number on his skin. You had to write slower than usual to make sure the ink stuck. His eyes were burning holes in the side of your face. You spared a glance up at him and the corner of his lips twitched up when you met his gaze.

Ducking your chin, you tried to finish writing but your pen stopped working on the last number. Your lips pouted, petulantly. Eddie must’ve noticed since his thumb rubbed against the skin of your wrist, comfortingly. If you were a cartoon character, you were sure there would be a comical amount of steam coming off you right now with how hot your body felt.

A couple of taps against your thigh and the ink started flowing again. After the last stroke on the final number, you added a small heart beside it.

“Beautiful.” Eddie said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you nor did he let go of your hand. “I should have you design my next tattoo.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause my little hearts will definitely look good with that.” You poked the bats on his forearm.

“Damn right, it will. Hearts are metal.”

Before you could continue your banter, Dustin’s voice cut through the air. “Edward Munson, stop flirting and help me!” He had his hands on his hips and looked extremely cross with his brother. You let go of Eddie’s hand in embarrassment.

“I’m coming!” Eddie’s cheeks were red but his eyes were full of amusement. “As much as I’d love to stay, it looks like I gotta go.”

“I figured.” You were actually sad that your time with him was up. “You two have fun this weekend.”

“Thanks. Don’t go on any more dates with assholes, okay.” Eddie still had that playful grin but you heard the slightest hint of unease in his voice.

“I won’t.” You assured him.

You said your goodbyes and walked away. Every couple of steps, you looked back at Eddie. You felt like a teenager again, willing for her crush to look at her in class. You took one last look at Eddie and, as fate would have it, he was turning to look at you too. Both your eyes went wide, a similar situation to your meeting just a couple of minutes ago.

The two of you laughed and Eddie drove the toy arrow into his chest dramatically. He threw his body back on the ground and rolled in the grass. When he got up, he had a smidge of dirt on his cheek but that smile never dimmed. You’d be thinking about that smile all day.

That very night your phone rang.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Eddie said over the receiver. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “Neither could I.”

This is your last chance, Cupid. You thought. Please let him be the one.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #she speaks

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Joel/Reader, Just the tip

Maybe reader is a virgin/kind of innocent, and Joel is in some position of power over her.

Joel keeps begging to fuck her and finally convinces her to let him out just the tip in, but of course, once that’s in, he wants more :)

Just the Tip

1.4k | Joel x innocent!F!Reader | master list

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, high-pressure, power imbalance dubcon, unsafe PIV, no outbreak, AU where he gets very successful at contracting. Sequel HERE.

The first time Joel Miller touched you, it was after you finished cleaning his house. You'd walked in on him in a towel the week before, and when you apologized and tried to leave that room, he insisted it was fine. You’d seen him swim naked in his pool too, when he knew full well you were cleaning the kitchen with an excellent view through his huge windows. When he asked you to stay for a drink one night, you resisted, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you joined him in his living room. He was in a high-back leather chair. You sat on the chaise at his urging, crossing your ankles modestly, shyly looking away while his devious eyes ate you alive.

He beckoned you with his hand on his lap and said, "C'mere, sugar," before finishing off his drink and putting it down. You lowered your head shyly and laughed it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn't. He never tried to hide how hungrily he looked at you. Knowing Mr. Miller thought of you that way secretly made you wet. You thought about him in your most private moments. He was a very attractive man.

"C'mere just a minute," he said, softer. You shyly obliged. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered into your hair. He kissed the nape of your neck then wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you all the way into him. You let out a little gasp as the hardness in his pants pressed into your hip. His large hand slowly crept up your thigh, under your dress, and you stopped him. He looked at you almost bemused.

"Okay," he smiled.

"It's just that, no one's ever."

He smiled kindly. He asked if you wanted him to. You said "Not today." You weren’t sure why you chose those words.

"Not today," he agreed, and smoothed your dress back down.

As time went on, he worked his way into your panties. First, you let him rub you over your stockings, then you let him take your stockings off and slip a finger in your panties. One day he put your hand on his package and the way you blushed made him swell even harder. He took it out and helped you jerk him off, and his face when he came made your knees weak.

Another day, he had you straddle him with your naked loins together, his hard cock gliding against your hot, dripping seam. He watched your mouth fall open, then covered it with his, kissing you for the first time as he gently rocked you into him. Your cheeks burned and you were more aroused than ever before. He gave you an orgasm – your first from another person– rubbing you against his cock then finishing you off with his fingers.

He always wanted more. The next time, he laid you down on the chaise, hovered over you, grinded himself into you, occasionally dipping his head for a kiss. Then he gave you head and your moan echoed off his high ceilings as you came. Then, he coaxed you into putting your lips around his cock and you let him fuck your face.

Soon, he told you how good it would feel having him inside you. Your body was already sure of this fact, but you resisted. He didn't exactly get aggressive, but he asked you every day. He was determined to convince you. He started denying you orgasms, nearly making you cry. He'd say, "just an inch, see how it feels, if you don't like it I swear I'll never ask you again."

The tip of his cock was not insignificant. About the size of a persian lime. Plus, it wasn't a matter of whether you'd like it. You wanted your first time to be with someone who loved you.

But Joel persisted.

Eventually, on a dark day with sheets of rain flowing down his floor-to-ceiling windows, after he edged you to death with his mouth, you finally agreed – just the tip.

"Just this, okay?" He thumbed the weeping head of his cock.

He laid you back on the chaise, knelt over you, then rested his forearm under your arm. He lined himself up, dragged the swollen head up and down your folds and clit, then nestled it at your dripping entrance.

"How's that feel? Feel okay?" he asked

You nodded.

"Ready?"

It was such a big moment, you were on the verge of tears. You really weren’t sure, but you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He bit his lip and inhaled deeply through his nose as he pushed just barely inside, about half the tip, and you winced with a soft moan.

"Still good?"

You nodded.

He clenched his jaw and swallowed, then came the rest of his tip, and you groaned as his girth stretched you like you’d never felt before.

"Oh, fuck," he exhaled. "God you're fuckin' tight." He breathed deeply. "That feel good?"

"Yeah," you said.

"Good. good girl. you're doing great, baby." He thumbed your clit, rewarding your compliance.

You arched your back.

"You want a little more?"

"Not today," you said. You had already made yourself a promise.

"You sure? Not just a little?" He rocked forward ever so slightly pushing a centimeter further, then retreating back to just the tip with a ragged exhale. His face looked physically pained.

"Jesus, fuck," he sighed. He stopped working your clit. "Tip's the biggest part, baby. You can take that, You can take it all."

"I dunno," you hesitated.

"Just a little more, baby, you’re doin’ so good" he begged, the vein on his neck bulging. If his face was any indication, it was a herculean feat not to shove all of himself inside you. His hair began to stick wetly to his forehead.

He very slowly started thumbing your clit again and you moaned. Something blossomed open inside you and you yearned to be filled more.

He turned on his side a little and his large hand lifted your top leg over his, turning you toward him. You faced each other, his tip still inside you. There was more contiguity between your bodies this way. He kissed you passionately, kneaded your breast, and the tip of his cock twitched inside you, creeping just a tad bit further.

He broke the kiss to look deep in your eyes and whisper, "Come on, baby, it'll feel so good. We'll do it slow, real slow."

You thought about it over a long silence, and he was so convincing, you couldn’t come up with a reason enough not to. It didn’t occur to you that you didn’t need a reason. You eventually asked, "really slow?"

His face lit up. "As slow as you want."

"Okay."

He kissed you so hard when you said that.

"Gotta tell me when you want more, sugar"

You nodded "a little more."

He groaned and proceeded just a little further, squeezing a moan out of you.

"Ok, baby, how's it feel, you ok?"

The loud wash of the heavy rain comforted you.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"More," you said. He was shaking, biting his lip, squeezing his brows together as he tried to restrain himself, pushing just a little more.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so tight.”

Then, you said, "all of it."

"You sure baby?"

You nodded "I want it all."

You didn't have to ask him again. He retreated slightly, then plunged his whole length into you, parting your insides with a shudder and a groan, filling you to the brim with his thick, hard cock, a look on his face you'd never seen anywhere before. He stayed inside perfectly still for a few seconds and moaned softly. He kissed your throat, then put his forehead on yours.

"You good baby?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

He pulled back, then filled you up again, and said, "fuck, baby you feel so good."

He buried himself in you a few more times, each thrust feeling so much bettr than the last. It wasn't long before he said "oh, fuck, I'm gonna come.” He pulled out, spilling his hot seed all over your pussy and mound.

He finished you off orally, licking his own spend from your folds, and then held you close and caressed you tenderly, telling you how good you did.

You were a little sore that week, but you felt more empty than sore. After just that one time, you began to feel incomplete without him inside you.

If you like this one, here are my other similar stories:

JUST THE TIP 2

Night Talks (best friend's dad, getting high) - night talks

Left in Lincoln (series) - lincoln master list

Silence can never be bought isn't loss of virginity but it takes them forever to have sex.

Anyone want some lore?

I have a dbf!Joel story. Part 2 of it introduces: The same house -- incl. floor to ceiling windows with a view of the pool. Same cock lmao (prominent tip). And Joel implies he's fucked at least one of his maids in the past. So this just-the-tip Joel could be that dbf!Joel like 5-10 years prior.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #ask box

6K notes · View notes

marksmelodies · 5 months

Text

nct dreams reactions to meeting your baby who looks just like their dad for the first time

—————————————————————————

dad nct dream x fem reader

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex and pregnancy

minors dni

note: i went crazy on jaemins part bc he’s so girl dad coded

—————————————————————————

mark:

“they’re here” mark looks at you

today was the day jae was going to meet some of his uncles, getting yourself situated on the couch holding your baby, mark let the guys in, immediately they all stand around in awe at the sight of yours and marks child

“woah he looks just like mark” chenle says

“well isn’t he the cutest thing ” jaemin gasps

“you wanna hold him?” you look to chenle as he seems completely indulged at the baby in front of him

“yeah of course” he says as you stand up handing him your child

“hi jae it’s your coolest uncle chenle, im gonna spoil you so much” he smiles as the baby looks up at him with his big brown eyes that look exactly like his fathers

“yeah right he’s going to love me more” haechan whines

one by one the boys carefully pass jae around

“mark your genes are strong, hes literally your spitting image” jeno says

“yeah man that’s my mini me” mark laughs

as the boys all get the chance to hold him you place jae in his crib, not long after he starts crying, mark picks him up slightly rocking him side to side calming him down

“isn’t he already the best dad ever” you say to the guys

“i remember meeting mark when we were kids and now he’s all grown up and a dad” jaemin says

“yeah man it’s really emotional seeing you two start a family together, it’s beautiful really” renjun states

“i still claim the credit of setting you two up so technically you all should be thanking me” haechan laughs

“oh shut up i would’ve ended up with her whether you were there or not haechan” mark jokes

you and mark look at your baby in awe

“we did good” he whispers as he kisses your head

“yeah we really did”

renjun:

after buckling your baby boy into his car seat you walk to the passenger side getting into the car “all set” renjun asks before leaving the driveway

you and renjun were going to introduce the guys to Chaoxiang, as you pull into the parking spot you get chaoxiang out of his seat before placing the binki into his mouth

“babe you have everything?” you ask renjun who’s carrying the baby bag

“yeah we’re all good” he says heading to the dorm, a few seconds after knocking an excited mark opens the door

“hey come in, we blocked off apart of the room and baby proofed it” he says leading you to the area

“thank you guys” you say as you place the baby carrier onto the counter

renjun taking chaoxiang out of his carrier caused him to cry due to the sudden movements but renjun quickly calmed him

“oh my god he’s adorable” they say in unison as renjun gives the baby to mark

“he’s definitely renjuns kid” mark laughs

“he has all of his dads features” you say

“even the eyebrows are the same” jisung laughs

as the boys are all talking to renjun about fatherhood mark sits down next to you

“i bet this month has been rough on the both of you” he says

“yeah it’s definitely a big change but i wouldn’t have it any other way” you sigh

“you have a beautiful family y/n i cant wait to watch it grow” mark says

“thank you mark”

renjun walks up to you giving you a quick kiss

“they’re already asking when we’re trying for another one” renjun laughs

“oh god i don’t even want to think about being pregnant again for the next 3 years at least” you laugh

“you’re doing such a good job mama, i’m proud of how strong you’ve been” he gives you another kiss

“thank you jun, you’ve been so helpful and supportive throughout all of this, i love you so much”

“i love you more sweet girl”

jeno:

you were currently at the dorms watching a movie with your boyfriend and his members

as the movie plays as jeno lays next to you rubbing your pregnant belly, feel yourself getting thirsty, looking over to jeno his eyes are focused on the screen

“i’m going to get some water” you say getting up and walking to the kitchen, chenle was standing by the microwave making popcorn as you tip toe around him to get a cup from the cabinet

chenle was facing you as you put ice into your cup, all of a sudden you feel liquid tricking down your leg and onto the kitchen floor

“oh my god” you lock eyes with chenle

“my water just broke” you say as chenle eyes go wide noticing the pile of liquid on the floor

“JENO” chenle yells on the top of his lungs

jeno quickly gets up from the couch walking into the kitchen, he knows exactly what happened by the look on both yours and chenles faces “ baby we need to go to the hospital” he says walking into his room quickly grabbing the bag you packed for when you went into labor

the boys are now up from their spots in the living room standing around the kitchen anxiously

“i’m sorry clean it up” you say looking at the liquid that’s still on the floor, grabbing some paper towels

“are you kidding y/n don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault, don’t worry about it” renjun says grabbing the towels out of your hands

“alright i think i got everything, let’s go meet our babygirl” jeno says to you as you head to the hospital

after hours and hours of painful contractions it was finally time to push, jeno standing right beside you as you squeezed his hand with every push

“you’re doing so good one more big push for me” the nurse says

finally the cries of your babygirl are heard as she enters the world

you look up to jeno crying as he smiles wider than you’ve ever seen, tears rolling down his face as well “you did such a good job, i’m so proud of you” he pushes the lose hair sticking to your sweaty forehead out of your face, placing a kiss to your head

the nurse looks at your baby in her arms and then to jeno and then at you“oh she looks just like her dad” the nurse smiles and handing the baby off you you “here she is mama you’re beautiful babygirl” the nurse says

“she’s so tiny” you stare at her in awe as tears continue to stream down your face

after spending one on one time with your daughter you give her to jeno as he takes her small frame into his arms “hi baby it’s your daddy, i can’t believe you’re finally here, you look so much like me” jeno giggles

after resting for a while the boys came to visit shortly, all standing in the hotel room looking at the baby in your arms

“jeno she has your nose” jaemin smiles

“and your eyes” chenle adds

“she has your lips and eyebrows too” renjun says studying the baby’s face

“she’s so incredibly beautiful, just like her dad” you say looking up at jeno as he kisses your lips

the guys get a chance to hold her, they all feel an overwhelming sense of love for her

“you’re already so loved” mark whispers to her

“we all promise to protect you sweet girl” jaemin says once the baby is in his arms

chenle takes the baby into his arms as he looks at her and all of her beauty, trying to blink the tears forming into his eyes he quickly hands the baby back to you before walking away wiping his tears

“awe chenle why are you crying” the boys tease him, he takes a minute wiping his eyes that are now red “ she’s just so precious, im so happy to be her uncle” he scoffs and shakes his head at himself for being so emotional

“she already loves you so much” you say to chenle as you and jeno try to hold in your tears

“you guys are going to be amazing parents” they all say

“such a beautiful family, im so happy for you both” haechan says

haechan:

“hey sweet girl” haechan says as he holds his baby in his arms as she looks up at her dad with big eyes

“what time are the guys coming over” you ask your husband

“they should be here anytime now” haechan says

the doorbell rings and the boys pile through the door waiting to meet their niece, haechan walks in either the baby as they all coo at the sight of her

“wow shes gorgeous” renjun whispers

“just like her mama” haechan places a kiss to your lips

“she looks a lot like me though” haechan stands proud

“yeah she does, she’s literally your twin” mark laughs

you all let them hold her and talk to her while you and haechan sit on the couch together

“we should let them come over more often, free babysitting” he jokes

“all jokes aside im really proud of you and everything you’ve done for our family, i love you” he says kissing your temple

“thank you babe that means a lot”

you continue talking to the guys as they finally hand your baby back to you

“i’m gonna feed her” you look to haechan before going into the nursery, as you finish up you hear the guys talking about you

“she’s incredible honestly, i could never have gone through what she did and the fact that i didn’t hear her complain about the pain she was in once, she’s literally the strongest woman i know” you husbands voice echos through the house

“she’s such a good mom already, you found a good one haechan im really happy for you and your new family” mark says

you walk out of the room acting obvious to the conversation you overheard as you burp your daughter

“hey love i can do that, why don’t you get some rest” haechan says taking the baby from you as he puts her over his shoulder patting her back

“okay yeah i think ill lay down for a few, i love you ” you say going in for a kiss

as you lay down in your bedroom your mind begins to wonder how lucky you are for such an amazing husband, you knew no matter what life brought to you, as long as you were with him everything will be okay

jaemin:

jaemin sits on the couch with his toddler on his lap watching cartoons

“layla baby come get dressed your uncles are coming over to see you and your sister” you yell to your daughter

“coming mommy” she says running to her room

once you dress layla, brush her teeth and style her hair you let her play in her room making your way to you newest addition to your family min-jun changing and feeding her, you speed walk to the kitchen to clean up the breakfast table and do the dishes before you can get yourself get ready, as you approach the table all the dishes have been cleared and the table has been wiped down, looking to the kitchen you see jaemin scrubbing the dishes in the sink

walking over to him you hug him from behind

“everyday you remind me of all the reasons i married you, thanks for cleaning up babe” you say leaning your forehead against his back as you take in a deep breath, he wipes his hands dry before turning around engulfing you into a hug “ you don’t have to thank me, you’re not responsible for doing everything around here” he kisses your lips

“oh i would so have sex with you right now if i could” you say laughing

“those days of having alone time are long gone” he jokes

“yeah i love my little cockblockers though” you say as layla comes running into the kitchen

you and jaemin look at each other trying not to laugh

“speaking of the devil” jaemin says picking her up ticking her stomach causing her to laugh

“i got it from here babe go get ready” jaemin says, you nod walking into you and your husbands shared room

taking a shower, getting dressed, styling your hair and doing your makeup all the span of 25 minutes is a new power you attained since becoming a mom

“layla come in mommy and daddy’s room really quick” you say as jaemin joins you walking to the bedroom

you both sit on the bed with her as she looks up at the two of you

“mommy am i in trouble” she asks

“of course not sweetheart, daddy and i wanted to talk to you really quick before your uncles get here”

“now you know mommy just had your sister a little over two months ago” jaemin asks

“yup” she smiles

“well your uncles haven’t met her yet they are going come over today to meet her” he continues

“even though their attention might be on your sister that doesn’t mean that they don’t love you just as much, the same goes for mommy and i, today we have to make sure your uncles are careful with your sister because she’s not a big girl like you are yet, she needs a little more help from us” jaemin says

“okay but will daddy and uncle haechan still play dolls with me” she asks

“of course honey, we wouldn’t miss it for the world” jaemin says kissing her head before letting her run off

you lay your head on your husbands chest for a moment taking a deep breath

“you were made to be a dad, it comes so naturally to you” you say kissing his lips

“i can say the same about you, you’re the best mommy i know”

you latch your lips onto jaemins as you stratal his hips, jaemins hands immediately going to your side and your ass

“fuck baby” he hisses as you grind yourself onto his clothed dick

“i want you so bad ” you moan as you nibble on his ear

“what’s up- oh shit” haechan says bursting through your bedroom door

“jesus christ” jaemin says as you two practically jump off eachother

“who the fuck let you in” jaemin says trying to palm the boner in his pants

“my sweet angel layla” haechan laughs

“i thought we told her not to open the door” you say looking to jaemin

“yeah for strangers, sadly this idiot isn’t a stranger” he says

“daddy uncle haechan is here” layla says running into jaemin arms as he picks her up

“yeah baby i can see that, why don’t you, mommy and uncle haechan go wait for the others to arrive, daddy has to take care of something real quick” he says as she runs off again, jaemin stares at you and then at haechan letting out a deep sigh before rolling his eyes heading into the bathroom

you cant help but laugh as you bring haechan to see min-jun

“she’s beautiful” haechan says staring at her

“yet again another mini jaemin” you say laughing

“she looks exactly like him” he says

“you said the same thing about layla” you chuckle

hearing a knock on the door you open it as the rest of the dreamies come flooding in

“uncle jeno” layla runs up to him as he picks her up, after layla says hello to all of her uncles they follow you into the nursery

“layla let’s go play in your room” haechan says

“oh my god i feel like i’m looking at jaemin” chenle says as he hold your daughter

the guys pass around your daughter as jaemin comes into the room

“how come every baby she pushes out looks exactly like you” mark laughs

“my genes are strong what can i say” jaemin shrugs his shoulders

haechan appears in the doorway of the nursery

“i wouldn’t be surprised if next week jaemin comes into practice saying y/n is pregnant again, i walked into them nearly making baby number three today”

“someone should definitely babysit tonight” jaemin says as he wraps his arms around you

“oh stop it” you say smacking his arm

“daddy” layla yells from her room

“coming princess” he yells back before leaving the nursery

“i pray everyday that min-jun doesn’t turn out to be another daddy’s girl” you laugh

the boys stay for dinner as layla sits between haechan and jeno, you excuse yourself early to feed min-jun, jaemin walks into the room as you’re feeding her

“my mom said she’ll watch layla tonight” he says excitedly

“why?” you ask

“i told her we desperately needed some alone time and she offered to take her for tonight”

“jaemin you seriously just admitted to your mother that you want to have sex” you say disgusted

“i mean you are my wife i don’t see what the problem is”

“geez you’re too open and honest sometimes” you sigh “ i mean if layla wants to sleep over there then that’s fine i guess ” you say

returning back to the table you hear jaemin asking layla about the sleepover

“a sleepover with grandma?!” she says excitedly

“yes sweetheart after dinner we can go pack your bag”

“yay i’m so excited” she says

“oh me too” jaemin laughs as the guys just stare at the both of you

“he’s absolutely ridiculous” you roll your eyes

“baby number three let go” haechan jokes

“oh don’t worry he’ll be wrapping it” you say loud enough for jaemin to hear as the guys nearly joke on their food

the boys all say their goodbyes to your girls as they head out

“oh thank god min-jun is asleep and layla almost packed” jaemin says walking back into the living room

“ i’ll drop layla off at your moms” jeno says

“really, that would be so nice of you” you say hugging him

“yeah no problem, enjoy your alone time” he says smirking as he pats jaemin on the back

“layla are you almost done picking out what plushie you want to bring” you husband yells

she comes out of the room with her big backpack on

“uncle jeno is going to take you to grandmas okay” you say your goodbyes as jeno carries her out of the house

closing the door you take a deep breath

“let’s go run a bath sweetheart, i’ll bring the baby monitor” jaemin says

as you lay in the bath together, jaemins arms wrapped around your waist “i didn’t know i genuinely needed this tonight but i definitely did, thanks babe” you say

“just wait till we get into bed, i’ll be giving you something else you definitely need” he says kissing your neck

chenle:

backstage after the performance you text chenle to come meet you in the hallway of the dressing room he walks out kissing both you and his son jiahao

“good job today lele you did amazing” you kiss him once more

“oh my goodness what does his shirt say” chenle notices your sons shirt

you hold jiahao up so that chenle can read what is printed onto the shirt

“you think you’re cool? well my dad is zhong chenle” he reads aloud

“haha i love it babe” he laughs taking jiahao from you kissing your lips

“let’s go see your uncles huh?” he says bringing you and your son into the dressing room

“oh my god”

“he so cute”

“let me hold him”

the boys all yell from inside the room

“calm down you’re gonna scare him” chenle rolls his eyes, handing his son off to renjun, the boys all take a good look at him

“chenle hes your carbon copy” renjun laughs

“yeah he’s got your big head” haechan says

“yeah chenle had the easy part in the making of him yet here he is, after being inside of me for nine months looking exactly like his daddy” you joke

“and you love it” chenle kisses you head

“yeah i do” you nod

“gosh he’s so cute” jisung says looking down at the boy

“of course he his he’s my kid” chenle jokes as jisung rolls his eyes

“sit down my love, rest for a little” chenle says to you, chenle joins you on the couch

“i’m so proud of our little family” he says as you rest your head on his shoulder

“i am too lele, thank you for being such a good dad ”

“i’m only half as good as you are babymama” you slap his arm playfully

“i hate when you call me that”

“i know” he chuckles

jisung

you and jisung were laying comfortably together on the couch until your daughter ha-yun started crying from her crib

standing up you walk over to her taking her out of her bed, sitting back onto the couch with jisung you take the binky out of her mouth as you pull your shirt down replacing it with your nipple

jisung smiles at the two of you as he places his arm around your shoulder

“i love my girls” he says pressing a kiss to your temple, once you finish feeding your daughter you pass her to jisung so that he can burp her

“i think the boys should be here anytime soon” he says getting up placing the baby over his shoulder as he pats her back

you get up and head to the bathroom making yourself look a little more presentable

“babe” you hear jisung yell across the house

“what” you yell back

“ha-yun threw up all over me and the boys are on their way up can you take her for a second” he says

you can’t help but to laugh a little bit

“yeah i got her go get cleaned up”

as the boys arrive you open the door for them telling them that your daughter is in her crib as

they all stand around her

“you can pick her up and hold her if you want” say sitting back on the couch

jeno picks her up rocking her back and forth

“holy shit it’s literally a girl version of jisung” haechan says looking at your daughter

“speaking of jisung where is he?” chenle asks

“ha-yun threw up on him right before you guys got here” you say chuckling

“good girl” chenle coos at your daughter slightly shaking her foot

“i heard that” jisung says walking back from the bedroom

“she’s so adorable” renjun says

“she’s jisungs twin” you respond

“i cant believe our little jisung is a dad now” mark says

“he’s all grown up” he adds

“i still remember the day jisung called me freaking out about him knocking y/n up” chenle laughs

“i wasn’t freaking out” jisung defends himself

“i’m pretty sure you were, i didn’t even get the chance to say hello before you were like ““ holy shit i got my girlfriend pregnant”” chenle uncontrollably laughs

“yeah well it doesn’t matter now i have my beautiful girls, my lovely little family” he kisses you

“you guys really did make a cute baby i cant lie” renjun says

“thank you” you smile

“i still refuse to believe my little innocent jisung helped make this baby” haechan jokes

“innocent is crazy, how do you think babies are made haechan” jisung laughs

“ew i really don’t want to think about you two doing it” chenle makes a face

“you corrupted him y/n” haechan laughs

“guilty as charged” you say kissing him once again

“i have a feeling that this is one of many babies to come into the park family” jaemin laughs

“we’re already talking about trying for another one next year” you say half joking half not

“geeze jisung, make sure to put a ring on it before the next one at least” renjun laughs

“y’all are gonna be real busy” haechan makes a grossed out face

mark hits his shoulder

“shut up dude you’re so annoying”

“i meant busy with two babies” haechan defended himself

“no you didn’t” chenle laughs

“enough about our sex life” jisung says

“you all will understand one day when you meet the one” you smile to jisung

—————————————————————————

hope you enjoyed, this was so fun to write!!

1K notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 5 months

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.

A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)

Part 2

You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.

The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.

The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory.

You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...

But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.

And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus.

And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…?

This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you.

You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.

And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.

While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.

And they're more than enough.

Or at least they should be…

You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.

You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way.

You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.

You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”

“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.

Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.

“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”

“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…”

You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.

“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.

“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”

“...Why not?”

You look at König; he looks straight back.

The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips.

“I can help,” he grins.

Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home.

Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.

You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts.

You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...

But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.

If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night.

…

You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.

You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.

They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.

You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.

You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.

Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.

Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…

And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself.

It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.

And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…

Can a man of his size even keep quiet?

He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8.

You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.

“Kätzchen...”

“König…?”

You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on.

“Here, kitty, kitty…”

You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".

But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…

Could a grown man get any more silly?

You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it.

SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.

“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.

“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”

You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.

“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens.

“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”

“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”

“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?”

You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.

“You’re crazy, did you know that...?”

“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.”

“...What’s that?”

His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.

“You’re cute.”

…

The whole evening is heavenly.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.

He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one.

He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.

König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?

You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through.

You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.

“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?”

He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.

“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...

“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.

He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.

You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.

“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”

“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...

“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”

Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.

And he does want to.

You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.

It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.

You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…

“This is–”

“Inappropriate?”

His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.

The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back.

It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.

He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.

God… This is better than God…

You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.

You can still turn back if you turn back now…

You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”

He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it.

You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”

You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.

“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.

“It was a good dream while it lasted...”

…

The rose withers in your cell.

You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him.

There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him.

In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.

God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.

“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world.

“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.

You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.

The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.

“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?”

“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap.

Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being.

“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”

Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you.

The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.

“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”

…

Work, time and prayer do ease the pain.

They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.

You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one.

You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.

Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…

“Kätzchen.”

A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.

You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.

“Dear God… What happened to you?”

You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground.

He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?

“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.

You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.

“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.

“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”

“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”

His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance.

König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe.

And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need.

So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place.

It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one.

When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.

“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”

The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.

“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.”

You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.

You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.

“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.

“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”

The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.

You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt.

You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.

You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.

The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.

“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants.

You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...

And it does make you very happy.

You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size.

To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood.

“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”

He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.

“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured…

...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.

“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.

“Someone, who?”

“Someone to hold hands with.”

He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”

You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.

“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”

Ouch.

“I… I don’t know.”

His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.

There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.

“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose….

You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart.

“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.

“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”

You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.

God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.

There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.

You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.

“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.

You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.

“Are you crying?”

His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.

He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead.

“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.”

You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.

“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.

“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.

In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…

The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”

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