Reminder for new people because apparently there's been another uptick in new Tumblr users! <3
CHANGE YOUR PROFILE PICTURE AND PUT SOMETHING IN YOUR BIO (def recommend putting your age or age range or decade you were born so that you don't run into any mdni (minors don't interact) issues)
This helps everyone:
Know you're not a bot. (robot annoying. some robots steal things :( this bad.)
Know you're not (or are) a minor. MANY people are uncomfy with minors viewing/interacting with their content)
Get to know you! This site works best through REBLOGS and eventually gaining some Moots! So interact, be weird, and customize ur little internet space
Anyway, hello everyone! This is my first time on Tumblr đđŒđđŒ I'd be glad if someone appreciates my work. By the way, you can see my art on Twitter. There are a lot of them there đžâš
âhow to recognize AI in fanficâ â hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. itâs using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.
writing âlongâ paragraphs is not a sign of AI â itâs a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.
using an em dash is not a sign of AI. itâs a stylistic sentence choice thatâs been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.
long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.
âYA narrative breaksâ? i donât even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.
italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and itâs a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.
stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work âsounds like AIâ â IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! â and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.
because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you âcall them outâ or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they havenât, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.
I'm so glad to see AO3 making it absolutely clear that none of these things are allowed to even be HINTED at.
Here's some of the language from the new post about AO3's police on commercial promotion:
-
There is a wide variety of things that are not allowed under AO3's non-commercialization rules.
Any other language which one might interpret as requesting or having requested financial contributions, whether for yourself or others. This covers indirect references, euphemisms, or other language intended to get around the TOS. Some examples of this include:
Thanks for the coffee!
My â username is the same as my username here
This chapter is brought to you by my patrons
You know where to find me if you want early or bonus chapters
Check out my Twitter to learn how you can donate to me since I'm not allowed to discuss it here
If you want to hear more about my ideas, talk about fandom, or find more of my stuff for a coin, visit my Tumblr
Solicitation is not allowed, whether it's for yourself or on behalf of someone else.
Here's the crazy thing, folks. You *can* day things like "My Tumblr is [username], come over and scream into the void about these blorbos with me!" And then plaster your kofi all over your Tumblr. You can say "Thanks to [someone] for suggesting this fic! I listen to people's suggestions all the time on Tumblr!" for literally any reason someone told you to write a fic.
It's not hard to filter out the things you shouldn't say based on environment. Back when I was in high school you'd hear about all the fun someone had that weekend, but they wouldn't say there was drinking and weed and throwing firecrackers into a campfire where a teacher or parent could hear them.
The reason we're not allowed to post monetary links or use any language alluding to it on AO3 is for our protection. If a copyright holder wants to sue a fan writer for making money or demand their work be taken down as "property" of the copyright holder, AO3's lawyers need to be able to defend us by saying money isn't being made and not perjuring themselves.
It's a LEGAL issue. AO3 has no issues with writers earning money. Just not directly via their platform. Not enough people seem to understand this. There's a very long history of copyright holders throwing their weight around and taking a hatchet to fandom spaces using legal backing, and we're trying to avoid that.
It's more than that though. It's not just about protecting their asses, legally. It's also about the principles and values upon which AO3 was built.
AO3 came out of an exlicitly anti-monetization fan culture. You will hear the founders of AO3 use the term "gift economy" a lot if you follow any of their socials, which is another way of saying "mutual aid economy."
AO3 is a non-profit organization built and coded and maintained by volunteer labor and charitable donations.
Understand that when you try to use the AO3 platform to monetize, you are not just monetizing your own labor as a fan creator. You are also monetizing the volunteer labor of everyone who built that platform.
And they will tell you that they are NOT OKAY with you exploiting THEIR LABOR, THEIR HOURS UPON HOURS OF CODING AND TAG WRANGLING AND ORGANIZING AND FUNDRAISING, for your personal gain.
Stop trying to sell books in the middle of a library.
Icl every single time I draw soap I have a nightmare with trying to get his parrot mohawk right.
Anyways, have some barefaced buzz cut König (and before yâall say he looks too young or whatever have you seen his in game model. Heâs so baby faced)
some studies with soap and a few screenshots from portrait of a lady on fire. I've been really trying to put some concerted effort into working on my rendering recently...
Hi, I'm not here to ask anything, just say that those menaces from the 141 have also taken over my life. I'm cool with it though.
For a minute, I was like "Why would you think you have to ask me anything in order to come into my inbox and ask me to commiserate with you about what a slippery slope the 141 is?"
And then I took a look at my own damn blog. Lol! I may have to update that button.
But I get it, obviously, or you wouldn't be coming to me. It's been unexpected (I'm not a gamer and never will be, not especially supportive military war crime, etc, etc) but not unpleasant at all.
May the content you are seeking ever find it's way to you.
Youâre the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You donât mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isnât.
tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex
This was your first time on a real military base. Youâd done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that youâd been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits.Â
Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didnât surprise you, even if it was unwelcome.Â
âWhat time do you get off, darlinâ?â Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. âMaybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-â
âTurner!â It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6â9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today heâd kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.
âColonel?â He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.
âTwo weeks of toilet cleaning duty.â König said gruffly, âand if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?â
Turner slumped. âYes, sir.â
âGet out of my sight.â
Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.
König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you.Â
âPardon, maâam. He wonât step out of line again.â
Maâam . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile.Â
âThank you, Colonel, thatâs very kind of you.â
âThese boys donât know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.â
âOnce youâre done with them?â You smiled playfully.
âIf I have done my job correctly.â He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled.Â
You didnât see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didnât end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering youâd heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didnât make you special, he was just being respectful, and you werenât used to that. It didnât matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didnât take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian.Â
A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and youâd seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as youâd stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasnât often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.
âNot often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?â You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. Youâd crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasnât out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule.Â
You didnât mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated.Â
You smiled a little shyly in return. âI know, right? I hope the black pudding doesnât go too quickly. Iâve been thinking about it all morning.â
âA girl after my own heart.â The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished youâd never opened your mouth.
Riley didnât seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since youâd looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be.Â
The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didnât particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.
You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.
âYou can have my sausage, darlinâ, if you ask nicely.â At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.
Königâs brick hand clamped around the privateâs tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.
âSir-my breakfastâŠâ
âGet out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.â König didnât even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you.Â
âHelp yourself, maâam.âÂ
âOh.â Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasnât unkind. âT-thank you.âÂ
König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot.Â
You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, thatâs what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didnât usually have around military men.Â
It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.
It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.
âCome quick!â An officer skidded into your office, âthereâs been an accident - potential fatality.â
You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand.Â
König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasnât actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury.Â
It was easy to tune out, youâd been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.
âYouâre going to be okay.â You said confidently, calmly. âItâs nothing we canât stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, youâre doing a good job.â Just this once, you were obeyed without question.Â
âI will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -â
âKönig,â you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, âI need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-â
König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. âDo not fucking give me orders, nurse.â He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. âYou address me as Colonel, you little girl.â The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.
âI need to get him to my clinic, I canât lift him myself.â Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. âPlease, colonel .â
König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. Heâd stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.
âWill he live?â He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction youâd had on base.Â
âIt was a flesh wound. Heâll be fine, Colonel.â Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that youâd ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.
The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didnât care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you werenât complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.
You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like heâd just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when heâd scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.
âMorning, maâam.â He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.
âHey.â You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.
âIs everything okay?â
âFine.â Another one word answer. You still werenât looking at him.Â
König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him.Â
Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didnât sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.
âIf this is about what happenedâŠyou did well, Jenkins will recover.â
âI know I did fine.â You genuinely didnât mean to snap. âI donât need you to tell me that.â
The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didnât know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.
âHave I offended you?â
Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.
âJust leave me alone.â
There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.
âAs you wish.â
He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like youâd done something wrong. But you hadnât, had you? Königâs coffee was abandoned on the table.
König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didnât glance down to smile at you anymore, he didnât come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.
Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didnât care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.
âYouâre a dickhead, Williams, the Colonelâs gonna fucking kill us.âÂ
âRelax, heâs not going to know.â
âHeâs been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.â
âProbably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.â
âYouâre done.â You cut across. âYou can go.â
They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office.Â
It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth. Â
You didnât see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt.Â
A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.
âYou should be more careful.â He grunted, releasing your wrist.
Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty âsorryâ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.
The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didnât need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box.Â
âIâll be out of your hair in a second.â He said. âI just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiĂe .â The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso.Â
You frowned and took a step closer to him.
âWhatâs wrong?â You asked.Â
âNothing.â He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual.Â
âIt doesnât look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.â
âItâs fine, really.â
You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. âLift your shirt.â
König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didnât say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage.Â
âOh my god, what happened?â
âNothing.â König grunted. âMachine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.â
âThis cut needs stitches.â You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to hurt you-â
âYou didnât.â He replied.
âI have cream thatâll reduce this bruising too-â König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldnât quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.
âIt is fine.â He said. âThe bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few daysâŠâ
â Days ?â You blinked. âDays, König? You canât have been walking around like this for days. Why didnât you come to me?â
There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.
âYou told me to leave you alone.â
âKönig,â it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. âYou always need to come to me when youâre hurt, even when Iâm mad. Iâm sorry.â
Königâs eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire.Â
âAre you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?â
You didnât meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. âYou yelled at me.â
König didnât respond straight away. When he did - âI yelled at you?â
You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.
âWhen Jenkins was shot.â You explained. âIâm not one of your soldiers. I donât like being screamed at, especially when Iâm doing my job.â Your voice dropped a little. âAnd Iâm not a little girl, Iâm a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.â
You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. âIâŠâ He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to scare you.â
You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.
âItâs not important now-â
âIt is important. I donât think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I wasâŠone of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.â
Your eyes met. It felt like the first time youâd looked at each other in a long time. Königâs blue eyes were soft and sad.
âUm, come to the clinic, this afternoon,â you rose, flustered, âI, uh, that cut needs looking at.â
You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single âyes maâamâ before you did.Â
You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didnât he? Because heâs a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, heâs not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasnât the issue and you knew it. You didnât care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.
König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasnât making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary.Â
You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didnât make a sound. it didnât much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something .Â
He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling.Â
König watched you work rather intently. âYou have very small hands.â He remarked suddenly. You didnât respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. Youâd never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face.Â
You didnât expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least.Â
âMay I ask you a question?â
Oh. âOf course.â
âWhy did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?â
You sighed and finished off your final stitch. âYou donât have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.â
âI am not mocking you. Iâm curious.â
Forthright . You forgot.
You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. âI didnât join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.â You didnât tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.
âRight.âÂ
âItâs not your problem.âÂ
König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. âIt won't happen again.â He said. âYou have my word.âÂ
Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. âUm, hereâs the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.â
König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadnât taken it easy a day in his life.Â
âWhat message?â König asked suddenly.Â
âSorry?â You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.
âYou said you âgot the messageâ.â He repeated. âWhat message?â
Oh.Â
âUm, did I say that?â Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.
âSchatz, my English isnât that bad. We both heard what you said.â
You blushed and your head dipped. You didnât know much German, but you knew what âschatzâ meant.Â
âWell, you know-â fuck, shit, fuck . âP-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I wonât go there again.â
âCrush?â König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned toâŠwell, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. âYou like me?â
Oh, this was very fucking bad.
âWellâŠyeah? I thought it was obvious-â
âObvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.â
You blinked.Â
âWha- why would you think that?â
âYou told me to leave you alone.â
âYou called me a little girl! In front of everyone.â
When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.
âYou canât like me.â He said quietly.
You frowned. âWhy not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus youâreâŠyou know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesnât leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people arenât dying, I mean.â
âIâŠâ Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?
âItâs okay,â you murmured, embarrassed. âLike I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who canât even hear a raised voice without crying?â
âDo not say that.â König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. âYou are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.â
âAâŠâ Your brain couldnât quite compute what youâd just heard. âMen like you? What does that even mean?â
âYou need someone younger, for a start.â He sighed. âSomeone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.â
âMen like your idiot recruits, then?â
König didnât respond.Â
âI have to go.â He said instead. âThank you for theâŠcream.â
âAnytime, Colonel.â It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.
âŠ
The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care.Â
You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury.Â
You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. âIâm sure itâll feel better tomorrow, private.â
âIâm sure itâll feel better right now if you kiss it-â
âShut up,â Williams chuckled, shoving him, âyou wanna get a disciplinary? You know sheâs the colonelâs girl.â
Your gaze snapped up. âWhat did you just say?â
Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.
âŠ
You signed the bottom of Williamsâ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit.Â
You hadnât even seen König since heâd rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled â sign me please :) â on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk.Â
You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into Königâs solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasnât until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.
âOh, hello.â You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.
âHello.â He greeted you, accent gentle. âCan I help you?â
âOh, right, Iâm in your office.â You stumbled over your words. âUm, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.â
König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didnât seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.
He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw.Â
âA smiling face.â He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. âThe way yours used to be.â
You blinked. âIs that meant to be some kind of joke?â You asked hotly.
âNot at all.â He replied, not looking up from the form. âIt used to brighten my days.â He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what heâd said. âLet us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.â
You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter youâd had with the young private.Â
âHe called meâŠâ You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.
Königâs back straightened, his fists clenched. âSomething inappropriate?â
âNo.â Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? âHe said I wasâŠtheyâre calling meâŠyou knowâŠthe colonelâs girl.â
You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded.Â
âWhat?â You asked.
âI told the recruits to leave you alone.â He admitted. âOr there would be consequences.âÂ
âOh.â You blushed. âBut, thatâs not a bad thing, is it?â
âNo, itâs notâŠsome of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.â
You took a bold step forward.
âAnd are you?â
König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.
Königâs large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer.Â
As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.
âIâm sorry.â He said. âI shouldnât have done that.â His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.
He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.
âŠ
The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, youâd been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.
You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasnât in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?
You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.
Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.
âSchatz?âÂ
Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didnât deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didnât know what to say. Donât go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didnât want you.
König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.
âLook after yourself.â You said quietly.
He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.
âŠ
The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they werenât the scrappy, joking lads theyâd once been, they were crying and they were scared.Â
You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you.Â
You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.
âWhatâs happened?â You called, opening the door, âwho is itâŠoh.â
It took a moment for you to realise that you werenât staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at Königâs chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.
âKönig! You scared me half to death. Get in here.â
You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didnât have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming.Â
âWhatâs happened?â You frowned. âWhatâs wrong, König? Talk to me, please.â
âThere was an I.E.D.â He replied, accent thick. You couldnât imagine what his expression looked like. âGhost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.â
âOh, König, youâŠyou didnât die, and youâre not an idiot, okay? Every soldier missesâŠâ
âNo, schatz.â He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. âIâm a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.â
One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.
Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else.Â
He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didnât care â you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before.Â
Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.
âI want you, schatz.â He said bluntly.Â
âI - I want you, too.â
Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.
âK-König,â you murmured quietly.
âNo,â it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but heâd already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.
âHhhh, fuck.â You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.
âFuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.â Königâs voice sounded wrecked.
âPlease,â it was a whisper, âplease be gentle.â
âWanted to get my hands on you for too long.â Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didnât know if heâd meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.
âSo wet for me, liebling,â he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, âyou are fucking soaked for me.â He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.
He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.
âDid you just have an orgasm?â
âMmm.â You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand.Â
âOh, sweet liebling.â He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.
âKönig!â You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds.Â
âSuch a pretty little cunt.â He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.
âKönig, please,â you whined, âneed you in me. Please -â
âOh yes? Is that so?â The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.
âShit, fuck! K-König, youâre so bigâŠâ You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldnât, pinned open by his solid hand.
âI know, schatz.â He replied calmly. âYou can take it.â He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. âI want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.â
âKönig, fuck, IâŠâ Your cheeks were rosy. âMy god, please...please move, I need-â
âShhh, little one, I know.â He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way Königâs large hand was like a blur between your legs.
âIâm-â You couldnât even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.
âScheiĂe, liebling, making such a mess for me.â His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.
âKönig, please,â you begged, âitâs too much-â
âAgain.â He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. âWant all of that squirt out of you.â he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didnât stop when you came, and he didnât stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently.Â
Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.
âCome on, little girl, do not give up on me.â
âKönig,â you slurred, heaving. âIâŠfuck, so good, neverâŠI canâtâŠâ
âOh sweet one,â he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. âFucked you stupid and I havenât even put my cock in you yet.â
You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs.Â
âFuck, König- youâre so big.â
âI know, baby,â he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you.Â
âKönig, please,â you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, âmy pussy - please -â
He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.
You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.
âFuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.â
âC-canât help it.â It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. âFeels so good.â
âYeah?â He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you werenât prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.
âFuck, König, fuck-â it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. âI canât - canât stop, fuck,â
âGuh, fuck.â He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. âSo tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. Iâve waited so long for this.â
You couldnât ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of Königâs dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls.Â
Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.
âLook at you,â König didnât even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. âYou canât stop coming, can you, schatz?â
âNo.â There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. âYou need, please -â Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, âyou need to come, please, I canât, canât come again, please, König, please.â
König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.
âNearly there, schatz.â He said into your mouth. âJust a little bit longer.â
âFuck, please,â your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. âPlease, come, come in me, fuck.â
âScheiĂe,â he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. âYou want me to come inside? Iâm not wearingâŠâ
âKönig, please,â it was pathetic, and he couldnât deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldnât feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks.Â
König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He wasâŠthere were no words for it.
You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.
âKönig,â you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. âYou came back.â
He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. âThought you might not want me.â
You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.
âWant you, always. Donât-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldnât remember what you were going to say.
âIâm sorry I upset you, liebling,â he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. âI have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.â
This felt like a fever dream. It couldnât possibly be real. You couldnât possibly be this happy.
âIâve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.â
He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.
âWhat?â You asked.
âYou,â he said simply, voice warm like honey, âare smiling again.â
If you are a minor, you should not be publicly posting anything adult-themed.
If you are a minor, you should not be publicly admitting you create adult-themed media.
If you are a minor, you should not be seeking out other minors who do the same thing.
Keep in mind that legally you are still a child. By actively contributing adult content on a site that adults frequent, and if you interact with them with their content, they can get in trouble. This is why MANY of us who create smut or other adult content have a DNI on our blogs. We should not be held liable for your actions.
Furthermore, you are opening a door for predators to interact and even worse, track you.
Please be smart, keep it private, and wait until you're legally old enough to post.
Iâm gunna sound like a cranky old person when I say this but- we were your age once too! We know what itâs like. I made some dumb-ass decisions when the world of adult content was new and shiny to me.. and some of them Iâm still getting stung by in my 30âs.
Please, for your own safety and the safety of others, pay attention to DNI tags, donât get involved with adults on platforms hosting adult content. We donât do it to be cruel, itâs literally for your own good.
Youâll have all the time in the world to enjoy it when youâre of legal age!
On the adults side of it, Iâm sure you donât need me to tell you just how much trouble there is waiting if interaction is discovered and publicised. Iâve seen creators destroyed and they had no idea who they were speaking to. Itâs not always malicious but we have these warnings and tags for a reason.
Once youâre given a label like that- deserving or not, thereâs no getting rid of it. More often than not, it comes with jail time, destroys lives both online and personal.
Please use your precious, hormone-driven noggins and keep yourself to yourself until youâre legal.
Stay safe x đ
30âs| F | Artist | MDNI @malici0uspuffin - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag