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#(i'm not ''lonely'' per se

pinkanonhopes · 2 years

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satisfied of my morning!!!! worked out, showered and read my book up to 67%!!!!! and i feel pretty great generally speaking. yay!!

#only bad thing today: i will have dinner alone #which is not bad per se but i think i'm gonna get lonely :(#it's okay though!!!! i'll put something on and i'll dance in the kitchen and i'll try to have some fun #leo scrive

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masked-and-doomed · 19 days

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Even if I will mean nothing to those I treat with kindness, because they can never understand not appreciate it, I still find value in that they are happier and or having an easier time with something because of me. Even if they don't care, I still want them to be as happy as they can be. I would be fine taking anything from them, knowing that they will never learn, because I don't want them to experience the dark loneliness that I have.

#pocketkitty #<- about him. okay?#i want to help him so bad. okay. i hate seeing him lonely.#i want to give him as much as i can.#because only so many humans will give him the same grace i have. perhaps I'm even the only one that's able to.#he will be selfish in our relationship but i know he's happier with me than without. he doesnt want to be lonely.#ah rambling #connected to the last post btw. i know they are not 'owed' kindness per se. And this will be a detriment to me.#But i still wish to give them love.

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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months

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Hi I'm new but I was wondering if you could do hc Alastor x wife!reader who is like Mortichia Addams. Like the long black dress(es) and red lips.

Honestly I see Alastor as an asexual version of Gomez Addams.

Hi! Thank you for sending in the request!! I've been wanting to write something similar to what you suggested lol

Darling, I always wear black

Alastor x wife!reader

Oh, how you had intrigued him the moment the two of you met.

Alastor was on his daily stroll, enjoying how the miserable souls of hell suffered around him as he glanced at the newly opened stores and boutiques.

One of which caught his eye. The decor was very grim but had a certain charm to it. Entering the store, Alastor found himself surrounded by flowers, roses mostly. His ears picked up the sound of a "snip snap" echoing throughout the quiet place.

That is when he saw you, dressed up in a long black gown that stuck to your body, enhancing your curves. You hummed a sweet tune as you cut off the heads of roses and decorated the lonely stems in a vase.

"I do believe that is a rather...unconventional way of arranging flowers." Your eyes shifted to find a rather tall demon- his red attire standing out in contrast to your dark little store.

"I suppose not..." you mused, "but it is just my way of doing things."

Alastor moved closer to you, his clawed hand taking yours gently- watching the lace around your long sleeve droop as he lifted your hand to his lips- kissing your knuckles as a sign of courtesy.

"My name is Alastor, my dear. It's a pleasure to meet you, I say, quite a pleasure!"

Since then, he started visiting your shop quite frequently, often staying back to have a chat after the busy day was over. You enjoyed his presence- he was quite unlike the men you usually had vying for your attention, be it in hell or when you were alive.

Slowly but surely, he had become completely besotted with you. He had always thought he'd fall for someone who wore bright colors and was as lively as he was but your demure and gothic charm had irreversibly enraptured him. Safe to say, his charm had had the same effect on you as well.

"It appears to me that I find myself quite delighted by your presence," you said to him as you sipped your tea, "Some could even say I am..smited? smote?"

"Smitten, I believe, my dear," his eyes half-lidded and smile wider than ever, "And I feel the same way."

It didn't take long for him to present you with a ring.

"Sure it's a tad bit sooner than expected, but why wait, my dear?"

And thus, the two of you became husband and wife. You didn't have a ceremony per se since neither of you enjoyed a large gathering. Both of you just exchanged rings and enjoyed each other's company that day.

After 7 long years of Alastor's absence, you found yourself in front of the Hazbin Hotel in search of answers. You knew a silly project like this would intrigue your husband, so it didn't hurt to look for him there. Besides, his return was made clear to you from the banter he had with Vox over the radio.

The door to the hotel opened to reveal the princess of hell, her eyes wide.

"Greet-" the door slammed shut and then opened again in a split second, "tings." The door shut again.

Your eyebrows scrunched delicately and you let out a puff of air from your red-painted lips in a show of frustration.

The door opened once more. "May I speak now?" you asked, raising one eyebrow as you looked down at the princess.

She stuttered a response which prompted you to introduce yourself to her and the reason for your visit.

"I must say, your idea intrigued me a little, so I decided to pop in for a visit." Hearing you say that, the princess or Charlie as you had gathered from hearing her sales pitch over the news, excitedly bounced on her feet as she led you into the hotel.

While she was introducing you to everyone there, your eyes found Husk, slumped over the bar.

"Greetings, Husker. I would say I'm surprised to see you here but I'm really not," you bluntly stated.

Husk gave out a grunt in reply. Charlie noticed your interaction, "Ooooh you two know each other?"

You let out a laugh, just the one, "We are acquainted, yes. You could say I know the owner of his soul....quite well."

Speaking of, the famed radio demon heard the commotion in the lobby of the hotel and decided to make his presence known by teleporting himself to his destination.

"Charlie, dear, why is there such a buzz-" he paused as his eyes met yours, "Cher..." he trailed off.

"Alastor," your voice was stern, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance...after 7 years, that is."

His smile twitched slightly at your glare. He walked up closer to you and lifted your hand, kissing it, "I missed you, mon cher."

Your eyes softened. His charm had a way of destabilizing your stance. You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it.

Charlie looked puzzled as she asked, "Alastor, do you know our visitor?"

Alastor chuckled as he drew you closer to him by the waist, "Of course I do, she is my wife!"

Everyone, except Husk, was dumbstruck by this new information.

It took a while for Alastor to be in your good graces again, but you couldn't help but give in to his advances. He was your husband after all. One that you loved oh so much.

You had decided to stay with him at the hotel, helping Charlie occasionally with her efforts to make the hotel seem...appealing. Good thing you knew a thing or two about interior designing, however dark or grim your preferences may be.

Niffty had immediately bounced up into your arms the moment she caught wind of your arrival.

"Oh darling, how are you, my sweet?" you asked her as she snuggled up close to you. "I must say, I missed you a whole lot more than my idiotic husband."

Vaggie sidled up close to her girlfriend, "Am I seeing what you're seeing?" Alastor had his head on your shoulder, eyes closed as you ran your fingers through his hair. Charlie's eyes watered, "I know! Aren't the two of them just the sweetest!"

Everyone at the hotel was shocked to see how affectionate the big bad radio demon could be and how much he simped for you. If anyone was looking for Alastor, it's safe to say that he would be found right beside you, one hand on your waist , kissing up your arm affectionately- all the while you reprimanded him for being too touchy albeit, not stopping his onslaught of kisses.

Angel Dust had once asked you, "So uhh... what's a hot gal like you doin' with Mr. tall dark and creepy here?"

Your reply was simple, "He makes me laugh."

The two of you often spent time having tea or rather coffee as per Alastor's preferences, playing the piano together and just relishing in each other's presence.

He had once foolishly suggested a revamp of your wardrobe, trying to squeeze in a few different colors. He was met by your terrifying glare.

"Darling, I always wear black."

You liked to slow dance with him, which he obliged with no hesitance.

You weren't much into swing, preferring a more classy waltz or baroque music but you enjoyed watching him lose himself to the music.

No matter how weird Al was, you loved him all the same.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply to this! I got a bit carried away with this request but I do hope it is to your liking!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x wife reader #request

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traumxrei-archive · 10 months

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【 shared breaths, beating hearts 】

prompt #7: They were hiding from the teachers/others and it’s very close quarters in here, he could feel their body against his (ft. ruggie bucchi, azul ashengrotto, rook hunt, jade leech)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.4k

a/n: hello. i’m back at it. bc i’m determined to finish these asap. also bc it’s nice to write something short n sweet in between the other longer stuff i’m currently writing. enjoy ^^

Ruggie Bucchi

"Ruggie, what—!"

"Shh!" Ruggie pressed a palm against your mouth, his heart thudding in his chest. He had finally lost the mob of angry students a few turns back, and you just happened to be the lone person in the hallway.

So what did he do? Well, he dragged you into the storage closet with him.

"If ya keep quiet, I'll tell you what's happening," Ruggie whispered into the space between you two. Thinking about it now, this storage closet was quite cramped...

"Those students were...a little mad that I got the last sandwich for Leona-san," Ruggie swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that you were practically pressed against him.

Your hand grabbed at his lapel, "You used Laugh With Me?"

"Shishishi~ You know me too well," Ruggie could see your glower and he pouted. "I didn't steal it. I just stopped them from getting to the sandwich before I did." You sighed, and Ruggie swallowed as he felt your breath hitting his neck.

That was the exact moment that you leaned forward, your head landing on his shoulder.

Ruggie felt his heartbeat against his throat when he spoke, "W-What...what are you–?"

"I'm leaning on you."

"Yes, but," Ruggie felt your arms snaking around his waist, making his fur stand on end. "No, I meant why?"

"If we're going to be stuck here, I want to be comfortable," You grumbled and Ruggie felt himself stiffen again as you hugged him tighter.

He...really brought this upon himself. So he can't technically be mad, per se, but it was still dangerous. He just hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear the way his heart was beating like crazy.

Ruggie rested his chin on your head. Well…this wasn’t that bad either. If he had the excuse to hug you like this, feeling your warmth seeping right into his bones, then he would definitely milk the moment for all it was worth. After all, there was no place in the world he would rather be than your arms.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was in trouble. And this time he didn’t have a convenient scapegoat to blame for his headache. Rather, he caused this problem all on his own. How else could he explain the fact that he was hiding underneath a grand piano with his…crush?

“Uh, Azul?” You whispered, and he stifled a gasp. It served as a reminder of how little space there was under here. For such a big piano, you would think that there would be more space. “Why are we hiding?"

“I…”

Why were they hiding? Long story short, Azul had been caught playing the piano by you. And then he heard the twins coming down the hallway. And then he panicked, pushing the tarp over the piano and dragging you under with him. The normal Azul wouldn’t have panicked. He would have put the piano away before the twins could see, and all would be well.

But there was nothing normal about how hard his heart was beating right now.

“The twins always tease me whenever they catch me playing,” It was an excuse that he was pulling out of his ass, but it was better than admitting ‘your presence startled me enough that I lost my cool’.

He fought not to flinch when your hand suddenly landed on top of his, “Oh, I’m sorry, I… I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t be ashamed, your playing was amazing.”

If he didn’t die from the mortification he would feel if the twins found him hiding underneath a piano with you, then he would certainly die from the sweetness of your words. Coupled with the fact that he could see the smile on your face, it was a lethal combination. He hated how weak he was to you.

“Huh. I never noticed how blue your eyes were,” You said, as if you just made a passing comment on the weather.

Oh Sevens, take him now. Azul would not last another five minutes with you.

Rook Hunt

Rook had hid in his fair share of bushes in his life. It was a given, especially when he was out hunting. Natural cover was the best cover, after all. Yet the usually comfortable position felt slightly…different right now.

Especially with the fact that you were under him. Pressed against the autumn leaves like this, you looked absolutely brilliant. He wished that he could capture this moment and keep it forever. And if he wasn’t trying to be quiet he would’ve told you all that and more.

“Rook, what’s— what’s happening?” Oh, you seemed afraid, your fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeve. He reached out, pressing gloved fingers against the furrow of your brow.

“Mon cher, do not fret,” Rook consoled. “C’est simplement. It is just a passing deer. Take a look to the side.” You turned your head, the hesitation melting into a look of wonder as you spotted the deer grazing not too far way from the two of you.

“Woah, that’s…that’s beautiful!” You exclaimed in hushed tones. His cheeks almost hurt from how much he was smiling around you.

“Hmm, c’est vraiment,” Rook murmured, his eyes all but pinned on the way the leaves seemed to cast shadows over your face in what he would say was a hypnotizing pattern. “Deer startle very easily, so we should keep quiet.”

You nodded eagerly, “I’m glad you asked me to take this walk with you.”

Rook almost wanted to echo your sentiment. He wasn’t one to shy away from expressing his absolute infatuation toward you, but it felt very different when you were just a mere few centimeters away from him. He could almost feel the redness like a thick second skin around his cheeks and neck.

“Let’s just…stay here for a while,” Rook said instead. “To watch the deer.” It was a baldfaced lie on his part, but if it meant that he could spend a few more moments here with you…a little white lie wouldn’t hurt.

Jade Leech

"Jade Leech."

"Ahem. Yes?"

"Could you please explain why I'm—"

"Shh," Jade leaned in a little closer, relishing in the way your shoulders jumped. Really, he didn't mean to orchestrate this situation. He was running away from one of Crewel's lectures about spore safety. (He had basically internalized Crewel’s monologue by now.)

But well, who was he to refuse the chance to tease you?

That was why he shifted closer, much closer than necessary as he continued, "If I don't come closer, Crewel will surely discover us."

"But why are we hiding in the first place," You hissed, grabbing at his wrist.

"I may have...accidentally grew some mushrooms in the flower bed he was saving for class—"

"Accidentally my ass," You grumbled, though you didn't try to push him away again. Instead, you stilled, and he could appreciate the way a cut of sunlight danced against your skin. He could practically see the flush overtake your face as he kept staring. He knew that you noticed.

Another idea popped into his head.

Jade opened his mouth, “If I may, what if you—“

“I swear to the Seven if you propose that I sit on your lap, I’ll—!” You fought for your words a bit. “I’ll actually bite you!”

“My,” Jade couldn’t help the surprised expression, a slow smile growing on his face at your provocative words. You never ceased to amuse him, with your expressions, your behaviors, and your words. He just wanted to see more and more of your reactions. Maybe that was why he was so very fond of you.

“I would never suggest something so…risque. And biting me?” He could see you gulp as he leaned that much closer, his forehead almost touching yours, “Are you prepared to face the consequences of suggesting such a thing?"

thank you for reading ! this is a part of my (very long overdue) 600 followers event ++ if you’d like to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist >:D

#/trau writes #ruggie bucchi #azul ashengrotto #rook hunt #jade leech #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #rook hunt x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #live laugh love tight spaces woo hoo

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staenless · 2 months

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Steddie lunchbox fic I joked about but then people liked it so now I'm. I'm write it now.

"Hey, Munson!"

Eddie ducked his head down before the blow could hit. Tommy Hagan was one of those men who never outgrew his highschool jock phase, and seemed intent on dragging the rest of the world into his football role playing; not so gentle head smacking included.

He blow never came, instead the heavy metal thunk of a lunchbox landed on his desk. He chanced an eye open, and took in the neat black tin box, no two boxed which stacked perfectly and were secured in place with a patterned cloth. He opened the other eye and instead looked to Tommy, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"the missus packed it up for me," the younger man explained, his eyes off to the side where some co-workers were gathering to make lunch plans, "real pain if I'm honest, how about you take it off my hands for me?" Then he grinned down at Eddie and clapped his should, too hard, like they were regular old office pals.

It wasn't like they were office enemies, per se, but Eddie had a distaste of Tommy and while the feeling certainly seemed mutual they were srupid enough to let petty distaste interfere with their pay checks. Eddie would certainly never do Tommy any sort of favour if it wasn't by obligation to his working contract, and Tommy had certainly phrased this as if it was a favor so... So Eddie instinct screamed to rebuff him.

Except it was lunch time, and Eddie was hungry, and he hadn't packed his own lunch because his fridge had probably three things in it max and he couldn't afford to go out to eat since most of his paycheck had already been dolled out to rent, his uncle, his savings, and he only had money for absolute necessities. Even as he sat in indecision he could feel his stomach writhing and slithering in on itself. Shit, had he forgotten breakfast to?

"Sure," he responded, and then quickly tacked on,"man." There was a moment of silence that made Eddie feel like he ought to crack a joke, but Tommy seemed to decide for them both that was a bit chummy, even for his sports team larping. Instead he landed a solid whack, right where the last one had landed, then spun around and jogged to catch up with the other Alphas on their way out to lunch.

The office had emptied out in the span of their conversation and now cubicles sat still with their roller chains sprawled haphazardly as if evacuated in some emergency instead of a quick shuffle in hopes of skipping the worst of the lunchtime queues. Eddie decided to forgo the company cafeteria and instead snatched a pack of cigs out his backpack and scooped up the packed lunch. He could eat on the roof, since the fire doors alarm hadn't worked since he was hired and nobody bothered going up there in the heat of the day.

It wasn't that Eddie was exceptionally antisocial at work, or loathed ALL his coworkers. He actually had a few friends, Jeff and Gareth in the IT department would tolerate him during lunch breaks, and they'd even met up a few times outside of work. They were cool, he liked spending time with them, might even call them friends in a month or two. But spending all morning on the top floors, in marketing and branding and surrounded by other Alphas, Eddie probably wasn't much fun to be around at the moment.

The corporate world and Alphas went together like honey and ants. The opportunities to compete and peacock were nigh endless, not to mention doing well wouldn't net you a hefty income for some extra peacocking on the side. Eddie wasn't like that, his Alpha didn't operate that way. So much so even he had been surprised when his second puberty hit and he dropped fang and knot. The kids at school had snickered and called him a half-bit Alpha, while others said he only presented that way because his sole guardian was a lone omega. It had hurt at the time, but looking back Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Maybe he was a half-bit, maybe he presented wrong because of some base instinct to protect his uncle. He certainly didn't prance around like the other alphas did, bickering and shoving like little kids fighting over a toy.

But maybe that was the joke Tommy was playing on him, Eddie thought as he popped the lunchbox and saw the note sat neatly to the side. Maybe Eddie was too much of a bitch-Alpha to get a mate, while Tommy with all his flouncing and team player make belive had someone waiting at home, making him lunches and writing sweet love notes signed with a kiss. Maybe the joke was to give Eddie a taste of something he could never have.

Goodluck with work today, please bring home some avacados for guac. Love you - Steve.

Eddie stared at the note in his trembling hand. He could smell the omega- Steve - from where his lips had pressed to the paper. Unmated. Surprising, but not unusual. Plenty of couples got married first, then sealed the bite later on. Some Yuppie thing that Eddie was far too romantic to entertain. If you loved someone, wouldn't you want that commitment forever? But the again, Tommy and his sneer around the word "missus" gave Eddie the impression he wasnt the "forever" sort. Further more, a male Omega? Most people were somewhat hesitant to be associated with one, if not outright hostile to their very existence. Far too rare to be ordinary, and far too Omega to be respected male Omegas were almost never on an up and coming Alphas radar of potential mates.

Eddie slipped the note into his pants pocket, and lit his cigarette before turning back to the lunch box. Black oval tins, two stacked and tied with a floral cloth. A bento, he realised, he'd seen it on the cover of house and home in the checkout line. The hot new craze in lunchboxes. Tha made him snicker a little. The floral cloth seemed odd, and stuck out against the black metal. The material was smooth and soft, like brand new. Huh. The tins themselves had some scuff marks, and one had a dent on its edge that spoke of a life of use. He set them down, side by side, on the laid out cloth. It looked fancy, but also surprisingly homey and inviting. It looked delicious.

The Omega- Steve had outdone himself. The top tin contained two halves of a prego roll stuffed to bursting with marinated shredded chicken. The meat was cradled between lettuce leaves to keep the bread from going soggy, and Eddie could catch sight of some glistening tomatoe slices in there. The second tone had an orange, peeled with each slice individual cleaned of any white hairy bits and laid on a bed of some gummy fruit candy. Apple sliced were laid in a separate tin, still shinning with lemon juice and not a spot of brown to be seen. Slid neatly into the side, half hidden, has the familiar pink white of coconut ice for desert.

Eddie could feel his mouth watering. Holy shit, did Tommy eat like this everyday? And if he did what was wrong with him that he'd give it up for some second rate slop at a restaurant? Breathing deeply he could smell the food, but beneath that something else, something tempting. Steve, his hands delicately pulling the chicken from the bone, slicing the tomatoe, cradling the bread as he buttered it, his nails catching and pulling off every white part from the orange slices. His hard work, his effort, laid before Eddie like some sort of worshipful offing. He felt high when he bit down on the orange slice, the caress of it's soft inner skin along his gums, like a kiss. The burst of flavour on his tongue, sweetness invading his sense so all he could see was orange orange orange leaving the bitter taste of citrus. He could taste, most importantly, beneath it all. God he could taste Steve. He could taste his love.

"Oh, thanks man," Tommy didn't look up from his computer as he said it, just kept tying away. "No problem man," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fixed on the lunchbox and he's straightened it on the other alphas desk. Every crumb had been kicked up, every smear of sauce sucked away. But placed gently, reverently, back in the top box was the love note. Eddie wanted to give Steve something in return, to thank him for sharing something so magical, so special with him. In the end he'd decided against it, could work up the courage to indirectly challenge Tommy like that. Instead, he'd pressed his lips tightly to where Steve's had once been, before returning it to its rightful owner.

The words Love You sat nestled in the tin as Eddie walked away.

Part 2 exists now

#steddie #Idk is this something?#I should speak to my therapist about this but people wanted the fic instead and I am but a slave to commands #It's omegaverse cause I like giving Steve a pussy #Not proofread #I wrote it you read or no extra steps babbiiieeee

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xxiamther0txx · 6 months

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(Gif isn't mine)

Nightmares (Bernard The Elf x Fem!Reader)

Request from @zero-spacee ♥︎

(sorry if it's not the best, I'm a beginner writer and am still learning! i ended up getting this one out quicker than I anticipated ^^)

Word Count: 900+

Y/N L/N; Santa's daughter, the only human besides her father to live in the North Pole.

She couldn't say it wasn't odd, being surrounded by elves for all her life. It was most certainly not bad, per se, just a little strange, her and Santa being the only of her kind.

It wasnt particularly lonely-- She made friends with plenty of the elves, as they got along with her and enjoyed her company.

But, there was one that had caught her eye in particular; Bernard, the head elf. They started off acquaintances, Bernard asking Y/N to help out with simple little tasks every now and then, and she'd oblige.

One special Christmas, when the two were left alone, a strange mistletoe had appeared above their heads.

After that, they'd gotten closer and closer, falling in love each passing second they spent in each other's presence.

When they'd earned the title of dating, all the elves were overjoyed to hear.

Well, except for Curtis.

"Goodbye, Santa!" A group of elves called out in unison as Santa waved goodbye, the sleigh floating upward into an abyss that lead him to the real world. A large, velvet bag that carried gifts rested beside him, snugly tucked out of vision and nuzzled against his calf.

Once he left, all the elves talked amongst themselves for a little while, the jolly spirit of Christmas lingering in the air, even when the main source was gone.

Y/N smiled, glad that everything had been going smoothly so far. She'd worried about the holiday season, moreso about her dad and boyfriend overworking themselves.

She searched amongst the bustling crowd for Bernard, though he was nowhere to be found. Her heart ached; all she wanted to do was curl up in her sweet elf's arms, the crackling fire filling the soundless room.

But it seems that wouldn't be happening as of currently.

With a defeated sigh, she yawned, suddenly realizing how tired she was.

Y/N crawled into her bed, the fuzzy green and red blankets tangled into a mess. They smelled sweet, like peppermint, while the pillows smelled--and tasted-- like marshmallows. She laid her head down, eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. Tomorrow was Christmas, the best day of the year; what could go wrong?

Y/N shot up, chest heaving up and down with each swift breath that escaped her lips. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, her shirt sticking to her chest. Her heartbeat elevated as distinct, vague memories of a gut-wrenching dream flooded her mind. The room was spinning and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It felt as if the unwanted knowledge of living throughout such a nightmare was overflowing, pouring out her mouth into a hopeless mess.

Y/N was used to having nightmares, as she used to have them all the time--nights similar to these stacking into a pile of horror, and though she was all too farmiliar with the situation, it still felt worse and worse each time.

But, no night terror she'd mustered through could compare to the one she'd awoken from just now.

Bernard had fallen off a cliff, inevitably dying.

*Her* Bernard had died.

In a panicked mess, she jumped out of bed; blankets that were wrapped around her legs securely had fallen to the floor. Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to fall.

Running out of her room, she called for Bernard with fear laced in her voice. She'd checked the bakery; nothing.

The room filled with hot chocolate and marshmallow cluttered cabinets; nothing.

Y/N choked on a quiet sob. She sniffled, for she'd checked everywhere.

Everywhere except...

She raced to the stalls, her H/C hair breezing behind her as she ran.

She halted to a stop, noticing Bernard and Curtis.

Bernard's head perked up upon hearing footsteps enter the room. Noticing it was Y/N, he smiled for a moment, until he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Y/N!-" He rushed to her, and she didn't hesitate to jump into his arms. He enveloped her in a warm hug, and the farmiliar smell of peppermint that often lingered on him comforted Y/N.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart, what's wrong? What happened?" He cupped Y/N's cheek with his hand, one arm still wrapped around her waist. Curtis peeked over Bernard's shoulder curiously, to which he shooed him off.

"I- h-had another nightmare...where y-" She choked on a sob. Bernard pressed a soft kiss to her temple, pulling her back into a warm hug. "Shh..you're alright, Y/N/N.."

He let her stain his clothes with tears; normally, he'd mind if it were with anyone else, but he'd always had a soft spot for Y/N.

"I'm not going anywhere, doll," He carded his fingers through Y/N's Y/H/L hair as she leaned her head on his chest.

"I l-love you.." She stifled words in between quiet sobs.

"I love you too.." He planted another kiss to her forehead. "Hey, what do you say we head back to my room with some hot coco?" The couple stood there in each other's arms comfortably, thankfully alone since Curtis had left the room, most likely going to check up on the workshop.

Y/N nodded, gazing up at Bernard. He wiped her tears, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Alright, honey.." He picked her up bridal style, somewhat catching her off guard, but once it had settled in what he was doing, she obliged happily.

(The End :D)

#bernard the elf #bernard the elf x y/n #tsc #x reader #bernard the elf x reader #tsc x reader #the santa clause #the santa clauses #bernard #bernard x reader #bernard x yn #fanfic #fan fiction

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songmingisthighs · 5 months

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Lonely Breeze

group : ateez

pairing : poly!yungi × reader

genre : angst, hurt/comfort

wc : 3.1 k

tw : angst, poly relationship, heavy stuff maybe; relationship issues, psychological issues, mentions of blood (injury), mentions of anxiety, ngl I'm just rambling at this point so if this is not your thing, pls skip lol.

a/n : this is why i don't listen to anything produced by mingi. I'm textbook kubler-ross every single time and idk how to feel about it. and yea i wrote this in 2 hours

buy me coffee ?

It had been three days since you ran away.

Can it be counted as running away? You're a full-grown adult with intact mental faculties and 'running away' sounds rather juvenile.

Life had gotten too hard and you were overwhelmed. Despite having wonderful boyfriends like Yunho and Mingi, this time you truly didn't know what to do but you knew that you had to get out of there before you completely exploded.

To be honest, Yunho and Mingi were one of the reasons you had to run away.

It was nothing against them per se but you felt bad for having to always rely on them all the time.

The three of you met on the cusp of adulthood, at a dance academy workshop. The three of you didn't mean to join that joint workshop because each of you was from different area branches of the academy but you all just clicked. From then, you and they planned your lives together even down to which university you three will attend. But it wasn't until nearing the senior year that you three decided to pursue a romantic relationship. You still remembered it like it was yesterday. How you, Mingi, and Yunho join your other friends on a countryside trip to celebrate the end of the 6th semester only to find out that the cabin was at maxed capacity so you three had to rent a small, dusty place on your own. Little did you know, you, Yunho and Mingi had each planned separately to come clean about your feelings. You were the first to confess after having a particularly tiring clean-up session (just so you won't inhale the dust that had accumulated in the cabin), accidentally telling them how you could see the three of you in your 30s cleaning the apartment you will share together. You remembered the dread that washed down on you when Mingi asked what you meant. Like the reliable pillar he is, Yunho was the one who helped you calm yourself down and told you that he could see the same thing, how he felt the same way about you and Mingi. Then Mingi confessed his own feelings and from then on, you three were even more inseparable than you had ever been before.

While it surprised people that the three of you decided to commit to a relationship that was far from orthodox, no one was really fazed. Everyone who knew the three of you had at least assumed you three were sleeping together which was why no one approached either one of you romantically all through university.

Some called it fate, some called it dedication.

You believed in the former more than the latter.

But recently?

You feared that you had trapped them.

Maybe it was a quarter-life crisis but you suddenly felt nauseous at the thought of your life. It wasn't like things were falling apart. On the contrary, the pieces of your life were finally falling into place; you were starting to really shine at work, and you were finally able to start saving whilst resolving some of your financial issues. Your relationship with your boyfriends was even at its peak, there was more love than the three of you ever needed and you three were beyond happy.

Then one day, one day a week ago, things crashed down on you.

You didn't know what it was, you didn't know what caused it, but you suddenly couldn't breathe. You remembered holding onto the bathroom sink while your body trembled, tears streaming down your face like a busted faucet and you couldn't move. The cool bathroom suddenly felt suffocating and the sound of your boyfriends laughing just on the other side of the door felt deafening. It took you a long while to break free from that state and you only managed to do so because Mingi had knocked on the bathroom door asking for you to let him in because he needed to use the bathroom. That night, you found yourself unable to sleep and even finding their presence too much for you to handle even after switching position with Mingi so you could be at the edge. You had slipped away and cried yourself to sleep on the couch, sobbing silently until fatigue took over.

That whole week you were distant until three days ago when you came home from work to see a note on the table from Yunho who let you know that they were out for a bit to get something special for you.

One second you were pouring yourself a glass of water to calm your trembling hands and the next, you were in a train with a duffle bag heading to the countryside, cradling your hand that had a gash and fresh dried blood.

When you arrived at the dark and lonely cabin, you finally broke down, wailing into the emptiness as you hugged yourself in the middle of the room.

Neither of them was aware of what happened.

Or so you thought.

The first person who noticed how distant you became was Yunho. He had sensed that something was wrong since that day in the bathroom. He could never forget the look on your face as you stepped out. Your usually lively eyes were empty and you didn't even react when Mingi pressed a kiss on your forehead. At first, he thought that you might have had a bad day and that you were just not in the mood but as the days passed, you seemed more silent and distant. Yunho wanted to ask what was wrong but he didn't want to make it seem like he was prying so he tried to let you know that he was there for you in different ways; soft touches, words of affirmation, little presents in the form of your favourite drink or plans of going on a trip. He wanted you to have all the space you needed.

Mingi on the other hand immediately jumped into worrying about you. Suddenly he kept texting about your whereabouts and your feelings. He had even asked if he should pick you up early from work and even showed that he was already in front of your building. Mingi knew what it felt like to be all alone stuck in a headspace and it had taken him so long and finally relent, letting you and Yunho pull him out and believing you two that you were there for him. So he wanted to repay all that especially since you were the one who gently washed his tear-stained face and slowly fed him until he regained his own strength. He remembered the pit and he didn't like the idea of you being there.

So when they were met with an empty apartment the day you left, they went into panic mode. The sight of a couple droplets of blood near the broken glass and your work bag thrown carelessly on the couch was enough to send them into a frenzy and sadly, they even turned on each other.

Yunho wanted to calm himself and Mingi down first because neither of them even knew what happened and where you had gone to while Mingi, pointing that out, stated that they both needed to catch you before you could even go far. Then they fought over the fact that they were fighting when they should be looking for you and it ended with Mingi leaving the apartment when Yunho ran into your shared room, trying to charge his phone to see if you had contacted either of them.

Essentially, the three of you were alone at that moment in time. Nothing made sense and none of you had any ways of getting an answer.

You were alone in the cabin, crying your eyes out about... Nothing. You felt stupid for feeling bad over your life that was going rather well and you felt bad for leaving your boyfriends without an explanation. It was simple, you could've simply grabbed the phone and texted either one of them to let them know... Something. You could tell them that you needed time alone. But do you really? You could tell them that you were sorry. But were you really? You could tell them that you were overwhelmed and that they were not making your situation any better by being so supportive. But were they really? You felt like you were not worthy to even send them a text because who the fuck were you to be acting like that and then asking for understanding?

Mingi was running around aimlessly with worry sitting deep in the pit of his stomach. He had gone to several of your friends' places, friends you trusted who wouldn't blab about your disappearance. He hated being in a state of not knowing because he felt helpless. He hated being helpless. Mingi was not a helpless person so he didn't want to be associated with the feeling. First things first, he had to find you. But where could you be? Why had he never taken the time to ask you places you wanted to go to, thinking that you had gone alone because he was too busy with himself. Seeds of doubt planted by the negativity of the situation started sprouting its ugliness. Was your leaving his fault? Was he too self-involved to not have taken the time to dedicate his attention to you once in a while? Was he taking too much of Yunho and your attention? His head hurts.

Yunho, in defeat, slumped against the bed you three shared. Your pillar, your rock finally broke down and with each sob, his mind found it even harder to make sense of things. All the decision in his life was made on a strong foundation, Yunho was a sure man, and he didn't regret the choices he made and the path he took. But was he too sure of himself this time? Out of the three of you, Yunho was always the tie-breaker because he makes his decisions carefully and with logic. He never found any reason to resent that part of him until you left. Did he miss something? Were there signs that you had needed a different kind of treatment? Had he gotten too overconfident this time? Had his so-called level-headedness cost him something important?

Whatever it was you hoped could happen or appear by running away alone never came. Each hour you spent trying to make sense of things or finding a way to calm yourself only made it clear that you were all alone.

Dark thoughts started plaguing your brain, skewing your happy memories into something that was far from reality. The memories you had of banding together into a trio with Yunho and Mingi turned into fear that maybe you had inserted yourself into their friendship. After all, they found themselves together first before you bumped into Yunho and told him how you were alone, effectively guilt-tripping him. The thought of how they have always had your back turned into anxiety that maybe you had leaned on them too much. You relied on them more than you should and now you were a burden to them. The things you told them, should you have told them? Especially the dark ones, the ones that stemmed from your bad mental state. Were you manipulating them without realizing it? Were your promises of the future even really promises? How could you be sure that it wasn't you pressuring your expectations to them?

It had been three days. Were you still alone because they thought you were better off alone? That they too, needed time away from you? Maybe you never needed your own space, maybe it was your subconscious telling you that you needed to give them space from you.

Loud bangs broke the train of thought and the more you came back to reality, the more you recognized the voices.

"Mingi?" you inhaled sharply, seeing the face of one of your lovers on the window as he banged the wall.

Thinking that you were hallucinating, you turned your head away and stood up. There was no way he could be there.

More bangs were heard and when you turned around again, you saw both Mingi who was now with Yunho staring at you from the window.

"(y/n), open up!" Yunho called out.

Normally, you would register his voice as is but your brain, in its unstable state, thought that he was demanding you to let him in. Mingi too, though he was only standing there looking at you, sending knocks on the window as he wanted to hold you once again, your brain took that as him glaring at you and being in fury.

Anxiety shot up and your head shook violently. "N-no..." you whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you took a step back only to trip on a carpet and fall.

The sight of you on the floor caused Mingi and Yunho to abandon all reasons and logic and all they wanted to do was to help you. They started banging and trying to pry the door open, needing to get inside to be there for you but all it did was send you into a deeper spiral without them realizing. Your body curled into a ball while they were yelling for you to open the door. The more you heard them, the worse you felt and before you knew it, you were yelling for them to leave you be, leave you alone, you didn't deserve them.

It wasn't until you started yelling at how you should have never burdened yourself on them that they stopped banging on the door. Their eyes welled with tears hearing the things, untrue things, you hurled at yourself. It hurt them to hear you think so low of yourself like that. You were everything to them, you were something so precious and special and to think that you believe they would be better without you, it was like a serrated knife had been plunged into their hearts multiple times.

"That's not true (y/n), please..." Mingi rested his forehead on the door as his eyes closed slowly, letting tears wet his cheeks, "Please let me in, I... We... (y/n), please," he whimpered.

Looking around, Yunho remembered that the owner of the cabin had told him about a spare key a long time ago. Thinking that it was worth a shot, Yunho was glad to see that there was still a key hidden under the cushion of the porch lounger.

You were too busy bawling to realize that Yunho had opened the door successfully which was a good thing because had you realized, you would have done something stupid like run out into the field in the cold January breeze.

Mingi tried to rush inside only for Yunho to stop him, holding onto his arm as he watched you cry with a broken heart.

"Yunho, wha-"

Wordlessly, Yunho pulled Mingi down to sit in the doorway while maintaining his gaze on you.

Though confused, Mingi followed along, sitting down and looking between Yunho and you.

"We should go in there. She needs us," Mingi said, voice cracking as he shook Yunho slightly, trying to convince him to go inside. He knew he could definitely go inside himself, but for some reason, he felt like he shouldn't.

For once, Yunho didn't give any explanation and just shook his head one more time. Soon, however, his hand took one of Mingi's and they sat there with you with hands linked, waiting for you to... Well, they weren't sure what they were waiting for but they were sure they would understand soon.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You must have passed out from crying because you remembered feeling cold and alone but the moment you came to again, you realized that this time, you were... Warm.

Sitting up, you noticed that the skies outside were dark and when you turned your body around, you saw Yunho and Mingi attending to the fireplace. The cabin was dark save for the illumination provided by the warm fire.

It took a bit of time for your eyes to adjust but when your eyes really focused, you noticed that Mingi was holding onto your favourite blanket that you forgot to bring. How did they even got inside?

For a moment, you only watched them do their thing, comfortably sitting in silence as if enjoying conversation done by the soft crackles of the fireplace.

Mingi felt something on the back of his neck and when he turned his body slightly, he saw that you were staring at him with puffy eyes. His instinct told him to run to you and envelop you in a hug and tell you how worried he was and how much he regretted things that he thought he did. But his better judgement stopped him from making a move forward. Instead, he cracked a gentle smile and ducked his head down, carefully opening your folded blanket as a silent invitation.

Your body moved automatically towards him and before you knew it, you were suddenly sat in between Mingi and Yunho.

While Mingi draped you with your blanket, Yunho made final adjustments on the firewood before he sat down close to you and even moved so that you and he were shoulder-to-shoulder.

You were sure that they were going to ask what happened, what was wrong with you, why you ran away. But minutes passed and all there was was... Silence. You were sure that when you saw them again you'd be anxious because you had to explain yourself but all you felt was a sense of calm. It was rather ridiculous but you could feel the anxiety melting off of your body.

"I'm tired," finally you opened up even though your voice cracked due to how hoarse your throat felt. "I'm so tired," you exhaled as you closed your eyes, your bottom lip trembling once again.

This time, Yunho moved to sidle even closer to you so he could guide your head gently to rest on his chest. "You... Can you find it in your heart... To rest in mine?" Yunho spoke up finally, voice cracking as well. Mingi then moved closer until he was able to wrap his hands around your waist whilst leaning his head on Yunho's strong shoulder, effectively caging you securely between them. "You can rest in our hearts, love," he added, ducking to press a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

Nothing else needed to be said because nothing else should. The three of you had been through so much together in your youth that it felt like you were all alone. But, with the stars as your witness and the fire as your companion, you realized something that was always true. Even lonely, you were always together and your inadequacies made you whole. While pain exists and will always find its way back to remind you of your faults, it allows you to remember who and what you are, but most importantly, what you now have from that.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Text

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? (König x F!OC)

Part 3/3 of Valkyrie

(Part 2 here)

(Part 1 here)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters.

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi.

The first thing she noticed was the combat dummy in the corner of the room. There was no light in the ceiling, only a small table lamp on the floor next to his bed... Which was really only a thin mattress placed on the floor with a meticulously tucked bed sheet on it. There was no furniture to speak of except for the tall gun safe and some bland table where he had a kettle and a half-open bag of bread lying next to a toaster. There was a small fridge under the table, and deposited there on top of it, out of direct sight, a simple knuckle duster.

Piles of books lay on the floor next to his so called bed, and she was pleasantly surprised: he didn't strike her as a bookworm type of guy. She briefly caught sight of a few titles, mostly nonfiction: he had volumes on rifles and combat sports like krav maga and escrima, along with some German books about hunting, knives…— and there were knives all over the place: hanging from a lone hook on the wall, lying on the table, next to a pile of books, next to the mattress. Probably hidden ones, too, but where in all this minimalistic scarceness, she couldn't tell.

He didn't have a television. There was no computer, not even a laptop. She wondered how his officers got in touch with him, for it was dubious that he even owned a phone.

"This is where I sleep," he introduced his apartment, waving a hand in a vague gesture that said It's not much, but it's home.

She didn't know whether to feel pity or terror. She was relatively sure she was the first girl to set foot in here. The red flags were all over the place, but she only felt a tug near her heart from the realization that this guy was lonely. Like really, really lonely. Potential school shooter who grew up kind of lonely.

God, why did she have to have a soft spot for lunatics like him...

"Would you like some coffee?"

He turned to look at her, and she felt tightness in her chest from that drained, sad stare. He had been so carefree, so giddy, but all of that was gone. She had seen it in the pub already, the moment she laid eyes on him, that something was terribly wrong. She wondered who was the one responsible for making this man lose his goofiness. Shed that lovely, inculpable nature that made him singularly him. Whoever it was, she wanted to smack them in the head. Hard.

Without his gear and mask or even that black face paint, he looked more human. There were no barriers between them, no profession stamped on him: he was simply…him. But the intensity was there, always there. He was an outrageously tall, athletic man, and teeming with latent violence.

She wasn’t intimidated by that, per se. She had fired her rifle alongside dozens of big, dangerous men. Menacing men. It was something else, something essential in this man's character that made her feel a little on edge.

If her mother could see where she was now, in a dark flat filled with nothing but weapons and white bread and a towering, introverted dynamite stick of a man, she would probably deem the situation more dangerous for her than Russia and Brazil combined.

"No thanks, I'm good."

He ran his fingers through his hair, which was much longer than 8 months ago. He still had that side shave, but the light ash curls on top were unkempt and fell partly on his forehead.

"Or tea? I think I got tea here somewhere… "

And there he was: that adorable, silly man she had fallen for.

If nothing more, she would make it her mission to at least get him to smile.

She shook her head slowly before walking to him and grabbing two fistfuls of his black t-shirt. He straightened like someone had called ten-hut, making it clear that she wasn't the only one who felt like a tightly coiled spring. But someone had to make the first move. Someone had to do something.

He had shaved a day, maybe two ago, and the stubble that dusted his chin and the top of his upper lip was only a faint shadow, but still coarse enough to sting her skin as she got up on her toes to kiss him.

He closed his eyes and bent into it. He didn't touch her, wouldn't reach for her, just opened his mouth against hers and moaned. Like a tortured man about to break.

"Mh- I've thought about you every day," she whispered, still clinging to his shirt, and he finally wrapped his arms around her. "Every damn day…"

"Meine kleine Walküre…"

"I thought I would go mad at some point."

I didn't know who you were, I couldn't come back to you, I knew nothing about you.

"I know."

He knew.

He knew the slow descent into madness, the craving. The mornings that felt like waking up in a limbo. The nights that only sharpened the pain.

And of course he did.

"You kept me alive," he said as his erection pressed against her, and her mind was flooded with memories of the grey room, the bleak light in the ceiling, the ropes biting into her wrists, the way he fucked her like they were both going to die the next day.

And she realized that he was real. He wasn't a schizophrenic dream or an erotic nightmare. He wasn't even a soldier; he was a man, a person.

He was a real, actual person under that hood and face paint and tactical vest and ammo pouches. He had an apartment and dirty socks on the floor, and he drank lager, and he had toast and a toaster, and he owned relatively normal clothes.

And right now, even though her panties were soaked, she didn't want him inside her.

"I'm a bit nervous," she said, stiff and near the point of breaking into a cold sweat. He caressed the small of her back and shoved his crotch against her even more eagerly.

"König, please… Could you just… hold me?"

He stopped and swallowed, and his hands traveled back up.

"I will do whatever you wish."

"Perhaps we could lie down? And just… hug, you know?"

"I'd love that," he said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

His sheets smelled of him, and she felt the cold sweat intensify. Her stomach sank, and she was glad that she was lying down because her feet wouldn't probably carry her at this point. He laid himself down next to her and gave her his pillow. It was a lovely gesture, but she felt like she was lying down with a murderer. Which he was. Which she was. They both had killed, her confirmed body count reaching 23 when she had left the SpecGru. His count was probably much higher...

She snuggled closer, tucked her head under his chin, and let him hold her. His whole body was tense, but he eased into the embrace after ten or twenty breaths. Cuddling usually came after the sex; after the release of stress and tension, and right now, they were both like teenagers in an empty house with the parents gone. Sweating with the jitters of coming to know how the other person's body felt like.

She dragged a leg over him at some point, and he sank his own between hers, and they just breathed each other. She wondered how they must look, her small form and light blue jeans and white shirt swallowed by all that black he wore. A fair little lady cuddled by a dark giant. A giant who everyone could tell, just by the clothes he wore, was either an employed soldier or a crazy militarist. And she liked that. She fucking loved that he didn't disguise himself as an ordinary civilian. Unlike she did, and she felt like a liar... along with feeling tired of pretending that she wanted the next bachelor when all she really wanted was a guy like him.

Finally, her nerves calmed down, and she could hear the silence of the room, the sound of his breathing, could feel the warmth of his arms around her.

"This feels good," she told him.

"This feels better than anything," he answered.

He seemed peaceful too. All that shifting around had turned into deep breaths and a steady heartbeat. She caressed his back, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek more firmly against his chest — how many times had she dreamed of this moment? She inhaled him, and the scent aroused different memories this time, making her feel like a balloon drifting up to the ceiling.

"I like you, König." She squeezed him against her. "Like, a lot."

He squeezed her back and announced: "I love you."

Her mind went blank and then screamed error.

She wriggled out of his grasp, propped herself on her elbow, and looked down at him. He stared at her like a dog waiting for a treat from a well-done trick.

"You can't say that, König."

His long, pale lashes batted a few times, and a vertical wrinkle appeared between his brows.

"No, you... You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. It's just that..." She pursed her lips, bit her lower lip, and placed a hand on his chest. "We barely know each other."

His eyes darted from her lips to her eyes, confused. "But I already know I love you."

How could she argue with a man who looked at her like that? Who looked like a dog being scolded for things he didn’t know he wasn't supposed to do…

I went to therapy because of you.

We met in a fucking bunker where you were asking politely if I would co-operate in you raping me. Fucking co-operate…

And you looked like Death…

"König… Baby, I don't even know your name."

He wrapped an arm around her waist in an attempt to pull her closer.

"Julius."

He said it from the back of his throat, it rolled off his tongue and ended in a soft hiss, and she felt lighter in the head by the minute.

Julius, like… Julius Caesar.

Or July. June and July.

This was so fucked up…

"Can I taste you?"

The wintry eyes looked at her, begging.

"Let me taste you, June. Please…"

Oh God… Yes, please, yes.

"Umm. Sure.."

He moved immediately, and she was almost thrown to lie on her back while he reached for her jeans to take them off, his large hands clumsy and cold against her exposed skin. She raised her hips to help him as he pulled them down, trying to stifle a giggle that was bubbling inside at seeing him so keen on giving her head. The pants got stuck on her ankles, and he tugged them off one leg at a time, causing one sock to come off and the other to come halfway down. And he just left it there, being too preoccupied with getting back between her legs to reach for her panties.

She thanked herself for having put on the smaller, black brazilian knickers instead of some comfortable, worn-out hipsters. And that she had shaved...

He was much more attentive with this piece of clothing, sliding it down like he was opening a gift. And when he took the panties off and still left that lonely sock unattended, crumpled, and forgotten, she couldn't help but snicker.

"Was?"

He looked at her with a perplexed smirk, clueless as to what was so funny — but smiling just for the sake of having made her laugh. The black underwear looked tiny in his hands as he placed it next to the bed.

She remembered how he had left her socks on in the bunker, too, perhaps because he was in a nervous hurry. Or perhaps because he didn't want her to feel cold.

She bent her leg and took it off herself, throwing it somewhere behind him.

"Nothing. Except that you're officially the cutest."

He ran a hand through his hair again. That bashful, boyish attitude made her realize just how much she had missed him. His gaze flicked to her eyes, darted between her legs, flew to examine the floor… and she could see the tent in his pants even though there was little light in the room.

"And now the shirt," she rose to seated and raised her hands up, making it clear what she wanted him to do. He wasted no time pulling it over her head but froze when he was met with the black, laced bra, the only barrier left between him and her complete nakedness.

As much as she wanted to, she didn't tease him by making him figure out the mechanism. She reached for the clasp, and he leaned slightly back when she took it off with little ceremony and threw it on the floor with the rest of her clothing. When she grabbed his hand to bring it to her breast, he looked like he had stopped breathing altogether.

"Everything good?"

"Perfekt," he said, looking terrified.

"Come here," she pulled him by the neck all the way down to lay on top of her. He supported himself on his elbows while his hands came to cradle her head. He was tense again, and she wondered whether the cuddling had been a bad idea — he had relaxed too much and was now overstimulated.

The whole body on her was rigid, but his mouth was soft and warm as he kissed her — so greedily that her legs began to ride up along his sides. When he moved to wolf her neck, her weakest spot, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he finally melted against her.

"I dreamed of you," he breathed against her skin, making her eyes flutter open and her pussy clench around nothing. "Every night…"

Through the euphoria of his accent and lips, she deciphered that what he actually meant was that he had masturbated on thoughts of her. And she had done the same: stroked herself night after night on thoughts of him telling her how tight and good she felt around him. It was downright sinful how many times she had reminisced the high-pitched sighs, that vulnerable look he had when he shot his cum inside her.

"Did you ever think of me?" He asked with a frail voice.

She had gone on a few dates, had a few fucks. Ended up feeling disappointed, and even more lonely. Dirty and sad — like she was cheating on him…

"If only you knew just how much," she whispered to the ceiling above her.

He brushed a trembling thumb over her cheek and buried himself even deeper in her neck.

"Shit… Ist das dein Ernst?"

She loved it when he spoke German. And hated how most of the time, she couldn’t understand what the hell he was saying.

"June... Du machst mich verrückt."

"What are you saying, silly…"

"You drive me crazy."

He was so… present, devoted. So unlike the men who almost screamed "Score" when they got this far. He was saying stupid, lovely things that didn't sound at all like a yucky romcom, not when they came from him. He ripped her clothes off because he wanted to please her, taste her... And had no trouble pressing against her while having his own clothes still on — those black pants that would get stained if he continued to grind against her drenched pussy like that.

"You'll drive me crazy too if you don't finish what you started..."

He chuckled and resumed giving her those tiny kisses that only left her wanting more.

"Don't worry, little one." He planted a last kiss on her collarbone before diving down.

"I'm not -"

The rest of the sentence turned into a gasp as his lips swept over her sternum, her nipples, sent shivers across her stomach as he trailed down, down…

"Yes you are," he muttered against her mound, going further down still. Like a man with a purpose.

Hot air hit her as his tongue swept through her folds, first pointed and quivering, then flat and hungry. Her hand shot out to grasp his hair, those stupid, adorable curls that drove her to the brink of insanity.

"Mmh," he moaned in her pussy, pressing his lips against her and opening his mouth. She didn't have time to worry about the bite of his stubble, for he pushed his tongue out. Either he had an excellent memory, or then it was beginner's luck, but he hit just the right spot as the hot, wet tongue plunged slightly inside her.

"Oh - fuck.. "

He got the cue to the full, shoving even deeper, sweeping arms around her thighs to pull her against his face. He decoded her within minutes with a combination of flicks, sweeps, and thrusts. She opened her legs wider, felt herself open like a flower, felt the juices leak out while he was at it like a tried and true engine. So tireless that it sent her thighs quivering. They never did that — at least not with anyone else. It was his unique talent to make a mess of her. If he proved smart enough to apply fingers, she would lose her goddamn mind.

"You are dripping," he informed from among the sloppy sounds she was perfectly aware of. "Like a honeycomb…"

What was it with this man that nearly made her cry?

He kissed her with devotion, almost like he was kissing her lips. The languid pecks and slow nips soon turned into french kissing as he applied tongue again. Her fingers curled into his hair on their own accord and pulled. She could feel his mouth open into a grin before a soft huff hit her.

"Heh…" he kissed her again, "Gierig.."

"What does… ah -.. that mean?"

She could’ve cried from frustration when he slowly got back up to his knees. His lips and chin glistened with her - and he was grinning adorably. That earlier naive cuteness made such a comeback that she had a hard time catching her breath.

"Greedy." He licked his lips. "You like it?"

She nodded a few times, many times, and the impish, pussy-drunk grin of his only widened.

"Gut."

He made a move to return down there, looking like he had received the best assignment ever.

"König… Uh, Julius?" She pronounced it like July, and he corrected her immediately.

"Julius."

So husky and sweet from those soaked lips — like music.

"Julius," she rose back to seated, thighs still trembling, and grabbed the front of his shirt. "Could you take this off?"

He reached back with both hands and pulled it off, leaving his hair all tousled once the fabric was drawn over his head. She vaguely knew what to expect, but the amount of muscle still made her gawk like a goldfish.

The man was like a roman sculpture. Not an artificial, overly shredded fitness type of thing, but a man who used his body like it was meant to be used. The light brown hair between the plates of his chest was simply irresistible. She placed a hand on it, and he looked down, fascinated by what she was doing. She ran her fingers through the soft, sparse hair, trailed the breath of it all the way down to his navel. The muscles there rippled at her touch. He was ticklish… and some stupid part of her brain squealed at the discovery.

She wondered whether he had been touched before, whether he had been touched much at all. He had an ungodly shoulders to hips ratio, and a broad, toned physique, which alone should've made women want to crawl all over him. Perhaps he had walked through life half invisible because he wanted to stay that way - in hiding. And suddenly she felt special, outright exceptional... for having been chosen, having been granted access to him. His world.

He trusted her. It should've been a compliment, even a turn-on, but she felt like she didn't deserve it. And it was too late to turn back...

Looking up to his eyes which were fixed on her, expectant and dark, her fingers dropped to his pants, curled under the waistband, and gave it a tug.

"And everything else, too."

He sat back on his legs, opened the belt, undid the zipper, and stood up to take his pants off. From where she was looking, he was like a god, the muscles on his thighs bunching as he switched his weight from one leg to the other to yank his pants down and socks away. When he was finally free of those clothes, he grabbed that monster between his legs with one hand, lifted it, and stroked it absentmindedly while looking down at her, all hungry. Possessive...

Car lights flashed through the window and painted shadows on the wall, on him, painting him with blue and black just before he descended upon her. She greeted him with spread legs and open arms as he got down, carefully, like a man preparing to pray. With his hand still wrapped around himself, he guided the tip to her folds, brows knit together like he was on a serious mission that required all his attention. She reached a hand to grab him too, and it was like a dream, the way they directed him inside together.

Her inner muscles welcomed him home with a greedy pull, not bothered by the stretch that only felt fucking delicious.

She pushed him further in with her legs, wrapped around his hips like a starfish around prey. He was forced to fall on his hands, and he exhaled like someone easing into a hot bath, blowing air from the raw sensation — although he was dipping into somewhere far better than that, she presumed.

She noticed a scar on his neck as he exposed his throat, half-lidded eyes drifting closed with pleasure. Her hand rose on its own will to touch the white protrusion, fingertips caressing the spot where someone had tried to finish him and failed.

And she knew that she didn’t want to spend her life without this man.

Didn’t want to spend a day without him anymore.

He flinched at her touch, looking like he was the one being fucked and not the other way around. Her touch was a reminder that someone had gotten too close - way too close. And had probably paid the full price for their insolence.

“Baby…” she whispered, and his head dropped with a broken sigh, hanging heavy against his chest as he slid in and out of her. It was supposed to be a homecoming, a sweet reunion, but he was shaking and sobbing, grunting between the thrusts.

She knew he was repeating the words in his head, the words he thought she didn’t want to hear.

Fuck it… I love you too.

It was a deafening declaration in her head, one she couldn’t snuff out, one that only got louder as he thrust deeper, pressed against her, and moaned as he buried his face in her hair.

“You feel so good… taste so good,” he said, “smell so good…”

Having the biggest, baddest mercenary of a rivaling military contractor between her legs, sighing how good she was, might be reason enough to seek therapy — but it was also the one thing she knew would send her straight to heaven.

And it was too much.

He was too much. She didn't want to cry, and she didn't want him to hold her, to slide in and out slowly, fondly, lovingly. Just the way he was doing right now… She wanted to drown the blooming intimacy, she wanted him to shut the fuck up and fuck her.

More than anything, she wanted to escape the feeling that she belonged here, with him.

“Please… just..”

“Talk to me, Engel.”

Shit.. It was a purr.

“I need you harder.”

He only slowed down, confused.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” she said, hating herself for tearing apart the one thing she loved most about him.

But he did as he was bid, upping the tempo, going deeper, breaking her in all the ways she wanted him to. Needed him to.

"Like this?" The voice was abrupt, metallic, almost freezing. It didn't belong to a man, it belonged to a soldier executing an order.

“Yes…”

He was looking at her, and this time it was her turn to avoid the gaze. She already knew it was filled with confusion and hunger and sadness. She looked at his muscles at work, the ridiculously large cock disappearing into her, she looked at the scars... That scar, the one that screamed that not only he was lucky that the weapon had missed by an inch. That she should count her blessings, too.

At some point, he grunted in frustration and moved to throw her legs over his shoulders. He could pound inside even deeper like this, and it didn’t hurt at all, even though she felt a strange warmth pool somewhere deep in her abdomen.

He fucked her on that thin mattress and all she could think about was whether he would offer her tea or coffee after, or bring her toast to the bed.

“Harder..”

The sheet started to come off, the slick sounds bordering on pornographic, his chest getting covered in sweat.

God, she made him sweat. She wanted to wash him after, smear him with whatever stupid shower gel he had in his apartment that reeked of loneliness, a fragrance she knew more than well.

She wondered if he would want to cuddle again after they had showered together. Or cuddle before, so she could inhale his scent, the full brunt of him. If she could stay for the night. Fuck…

“Harder.”

He dared to whimper, dared to look at her all helpless. But obeyed.

Shit, he felt good. Too good. Too fucking….

"Wait..."

She was about to come, but something was different.

"Wait-"

Something was wrong and right at the same time, the thickness and length pressing onto something unusually delicious. It left her shaking, caused her to feel full to the brim. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he wouldn't relent with the thrusts, but he had to soon enough, for she burst, literally, with wetness that spread through the sheets under them and caused his cock to fly out of her with a gush of moisture.

Oh jesusfuckinggod… -

He was between her legs, cock bouncing up and down. It was sheened with an insane amount of natural lube, and he was looking down at what she had done.

"What happened?"

The innocent question, the humiliation made her cheeks pang with heat.

Take a deep breath, calm down, calm the fuck down..

"It's…"

It's called squirting, you adorable big puppy. You just made me fucking squirt.

"It's a woman's orgasm but times ten?"

She wanted to add Jesus Christ I'm sorry, and it's a good thing, trust me, but she didn't need to.

"I… made you do that?"

She nodded, and another wide grin slowly spread on his face. He adored the scene, amazed and eyes sparkling like it was Christmas morning and he had walked up to see that there were presents under the tree.

He reached for his cock to insert himself back inside, but she jerked away.

"No, wait… It - it might happen again," she stuttered a warning. She wasn't sure, but she didn't want to take the risk. This kind of thing had never occurred, even if she knew what it was. Even envied those who had had the experience. But for the love of god, why did it have to be him out of all men who got to witness it when it finally happened…

But he only looked even more reckless. Almost wild.

"So let's do it again!" He was so excited that his voice spiked up a few notes.

"But your sheets…"

"Nevermind them," he huffed, ecstatic, and crawled forward. He pushed inside, fast and luscious, and she knew right then and there that it would definitely happen again.

He began to ruin her with a frenzy that was almost eerie. The rhythm of slick sounds told her enough, told her that he pistoned her with a pace that would soon drive her insane.

“You’re a fucking fantasy, June,” he groaned, the darker parts of what made him a ruthless professional soldier leaking through.

"Oh God," she breathed this time, deciding she could feel ashamed later. "It feels so fucking good…"

"I'll be good to you, Engel, I'll be good," he grunted as he continued to fuck her brains out.

She cursed and moaned and wailed, letting all his neighbours know that the big, quiet soldier boy was good at what he did. Fucking best. And she knew she should've said her prayers when her eyes rolled in her head and she started to see white.

It didn't take longer than a second or two before it happened again, this time with a force that nearly made her snap and split in half. More than a few squirts hit him as he pulled out. His jaw hung open like he was looking at fireworks.

“Huh -mh, yeah,” he wheezed, sounding dazed. “Verdammt - scheiße…”

She was writhing, crying, shedding actual tears — grabbing the sheet next to her head with one hand and beside her thigh with the other. Her legs were spread like she was on display, her thighs shaking like the muscles there had been permanently damaged. Kate had been more right than should've been legally fair…

"Gott, du bist schön," he commented on the sight while stroking himself, eased by the fluids all over his cock.

She thought about helping him, but couldn't get up, couldn't even move her hands, could only pant and shudder as he milked himself before her to a quick release.

He threw his head back and almost roared, and the only thing on her mind was the phrase saddest people cum the hardest as his seed shot out in generous spurts, hitting her almost in the face. The first gush already ran down her neck by the time the second fell, a thick rope of cum landing on her breasts, the rest on her stomach.

Something twisted in her stomach when she realized he had called her beautiful one moment and proceeded to cover her with cum the next.

Men…

But it was so fucking good that she only wanted to raise a hand and spread his seed all over her. He was breathing heavily with a softening cock in his fist, the last of the cum dripping to join the mess she had made.

"I hope you got a spare one," she looked at the destroyed sheet between them.

"Yeah," he panted still, half-lidded eyes looking at her up and down like he was piss-drunk and about to pass out.

She patted the space next to her, and he collapsed there, staring at the ceiling, probably trying to remember his name. She took his arm and raised it to wiggle herself under it and against him.

It felt good, being glued to him like this… Naked and spent and sweaty. He shifted, turned to face her, and took her in his arms as they both lay on their side, breathing heavily. She was pressed against the damp hair on his chest while his cum trailed little pathways between them.

"Please tell me you're mine, little Valkyrie," he whispered in her hair. He inhaled deeply and exhaled fully, like he had been in the thin mountain air and only now got enough oxygen again.

"June, I want you and no one else."

Oh, honey… it's just the mind-blowing sex talking.

It was pillow talk and hormones and trauma and all that shit. She was now 110 % sure that he had lost his virginity in that bunker. He wasn't the first nor the last man who thought they had fallen in love with a woman, not realizing what they had really fallen for was sex.

"I love you, June. If you don't want to hear it anymore, I won't say it. But it's true."

"Look…" she sighed.

This was so fucking awkward...

"Have you ever been in love before..?"

"No."

"Listen. I like you, you're a nice guy. And I want to get to know you, really, I do…-"

His breath had shallowed — far too much. The large chest beside her heaved, and she could both hear and feel his heart thumping. He shifted away from her, and she snapped her mouth shut. Slowly, she raised to look at him, and the sight drove a fucking lance through her heart.

She didn’t really know what a panic attack was, but was fairly positive that he was about to have one. He was laying on his back, big palms against his head, and he slid them over his eyes, trying to hide from her. His breathing was getting out of hand by the minute.

Fuck… Why did she have to fucking ruin everything?

"Hey, baby. It's alright. Everything's all right, just.. Breathe. Or talk to me…?"

He balanced on the edge of hyperventilation, still holding his head with his hands, eyes squeezed shut and that beautiful face distorted into agony and pain.

"You don't… want me."

Ice seeped into the pit of her stomach.

"Yeah, it's true I've never been with anyone. I was too shy. Ich habe nie bekommen, was ich wirklich will. Alle lachten und nannten mich Schwul… Und das war nicht das Einzige- mmh."

He was sweating from the German confession she understood but a few words of.

The only thing she caught was something about everyone laughing at him. People were horrible sometimes… or usually. People were vile, they were fucking bullies. But even if he was a bit too kind, a little too eager to please, and socially more than a bit on the awkward side of things, she had thought it a miracle that anyone would pester someone of his size. But exclusion and words could hurt too.

And she felt like an asshole.

She was good at bringing down strong, beautiful things. She liked to drag them through the mud. She was talented at taking aim at the most vulnerable parts and pulling the trigger... But he was already there. He was looking at her from a pool of blood and shit and tears. And she was not the only one who got traumatized in that box made of cement. She was not the only one who had had it rough growing up. From what she could tell, he had had it much worse.

"June, you feel so good that it hurts."

Shit…

Her stomach burst with golden fireflies, a warmth that spread to her heart, her whole chest. Ice and gold and fire mixed together, and she knew it was dangerous… He was dangerous. He was the most frightening thing she had ever faced.

She reached to brush his chest, feeling clumsy, like a child. A total amateur when it came to these things.

"You feel good too," she whispered. "So good. I'm just- I'm scared. It's scary."

She put her arm around him and pulled, then yanked when he wouldn't move. He turned, and she took him in her arms. His head pressed inelegantly between her breasts as she gave him a hug that she hoped would deliver all her affection.

He almost trembled in her arms, and the stabbing, burning feeling in her chest wouldn't stop.

"You really stole my heart, you know? Right from the start."

A breath of warm air crashed against her skin as she slowly stroked the back of his head and whispered in his hair.

"And I've thought about you ever since. It's ok if you want to say it. If that's how you truly feel. But please don't say that I don't want you. Because that sure as hell ain't true."

"...Ok," he muttered in her tits — a quiet, damped breath.

"König, could you just give me some… time? Just take it slow, if that's ok with you."

She refused to say his real name, knowing she wouldn't be able to lie anymore if she did. That she was just as far gone as he was, and having a radical acceptance moment about it. Even her therapist would’ve been proud… Or not. But she really didn't give a fuck.

She released her death grip on him a little, and he slowly raised his head to look at her. It was oddly charming that he was looking up at her and not the other way around.

"Take it slow. Ok. I promise I'll be good to you."

She tried her best not to burst into tears. She tried her very best to keep her hand steady as it caressed his hair, his neck, his back.

"You're so sweet."

She moved to kiss him, a pure cinematic kiss that was unhurried, exquisite, and just the kind of starved that told her he was the one.

"Anybody ever told you how sweet you are?" She whispered in his mouth and could feel how the muscles on his stomach contracted.

"Nein," he rasped back, voice so low that she nearly didn't recognize it belonged to him. He was getting hard again, too.

"Well, now you know," She kissed the top of his nose. She wondered if he had the kind of skin type that was full of freckles in summer.

"You're sweet," he said, the warmth of his words melting her like snow in spring, "like.. cotton candy. Or Apfelstrudel."

"Did you just call me a Strudel?"

"It's a dessert," he explained.

"I know it's a dessert, you… bear," she sputtered with her lack of words.

"Is that the best you can do?" He hummed against her lips, laughter barely a breath away.

"No. But it's your fault that my brain stops working."

He rolled partly on top of her again, his scent hitting her like a drug. The stubble scratched her skin, over and over again, as he kissed her, added tongue, sucked her lip, pressed against her like she was dying and he needed to give her mouth-to-mouth CPR asap.

When he withdrew, only an inch, she was breathless again. And he was smiling.

"Could you say it..? Please, just once. That you're my girl," he pressed his forehead on hers, his eyes betraying all the things she had no courage to show. He was many things, but he was certainly not a coward.

"I'm yours, King. I'm your girl."

"And I'm all yours, June."

She closed her eyes, savored those words, relished the feeling of commitment that was completely novel to her.

"When will you head back?"

"I… cannot tell you that."

She wondered how exactly she was supposed to go home with the knowledge that he would be out there in the field, changing mags amidst grenades and bullets.

"Soon."

"I gotta text Kate that I'm staying over. So she won't worry…"

"You'll stay for the night?"

He sounded so delighted. Excited. Like a dog wagging a tail... She wanted to crush him into another hug and cry until she felt raw.

"Yeah, if you change that sheet.”

She got up, walked to get her jacket, groped through the pockets — and her fingers caught to something small and bendy. Magical thinking or not, it felt like fate, and her lips curled into a small smile.

She found her phone, sent a text to Kate, then put it on mute, shoved it back into the pocket, and twiddled the plastic toy for a moment before closing it inside her palm.

When she returned to him, she had to do a double take. He looked so wiped out - so thoroughly drowsy and content - that it made the gold melt and spread inside her like fire.

"I have something for you."

He rose to his elbows, and she crouched beside him, took his hand, and dropped the small, olive-green toy soldier in his palm.

"It's my lucky charm. Had it on me on every mission."

It had a short key chain attached to it. She wondered whether he would tuck it inside his pocket, or if he would keep it on a table beside his bed. Or attach it somewhere, to bring him luck as it had brought to her. Even on that mission when KorTac had taken her as a prisoner. Especially on that mission…

"Can I ask something in return?"

"Anything."

She looked for it, found it on the floor, and picked it up.

"Can I have this?" She held up his black t-shirt and then brought it to her heart, grasping it tightly with two hands like a plush toy. "It smells of you," she explained, although it must've been obvious why she wanted it. The impact of her request on him was a swelling erection that twitched as he watched her, lips pursed tight, brows drawn together. He was blinking rapidly, trying to dry the tears that had started to form.

"Of course you can, Liebling."

"I can wrap myself in you even when you're away."

A miserable little groan escaped him as his lips tightened even more. She placed his shirt down and crawled back to the bed next to him.

"The downside is that it might stop having your scent in it," she pouted a lip, "but you can always bring me a fresh one when you come back, right?"

His sigh was heartbreaking.

"I can't help it, June."

"June, please don't take this the wrong way. I ask this question because you need to address it someday. Now… Is there any part of you that enjoyed it?"

She had thought of him every fucking day for the past 8 months now. She had thought of his hands, his cock, his puppy eyes, and most of all, that sad, abandoned look he gave her right before she turned and left.

"Did you like him?"

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"This is a place where you can safely say whatever is on your mind."

So what if it didn't make any sense? Who the fuck cared anyway?

Fuck it.

Just fuck it.

As if it was going to get any better by not saying it. Nothing could be worse than those months without him.

"You know what… I can't help it either. And I don't wanna take it slow."

---

"You've been kinda up lately."

Zero munched on whatever was on the menu today — König hadn't really paid mind to what it was.

"Leave went well?"

All eyes turned on him, and he was glad of the hood.

If only they knew just how well…

It had been the best leave ever. She hadn't stayed just for one night; she had stayed for three.

They had gone to see a new Marvel movie, and her kisses had tasted of popcorn and lemonade in the dark theatre. Half of the movie rolled past without him noticing what it was about. She had wanted to go to a sushi restaurant after and make him try all kinds of weird rolls — she had practically fed him with her own chopsticks, wanting to see what kind of reaction he had to each bite. They had gone to that pub for another round, and he had made her taste different types of beers, and when they got to pilsner and unfiltered witbier, she had stuck her tongue out and made a face. "You drink piss in Austria?"

They had gone to the gym, and he had taught her how to do a power clean, and she had insisted on staying in front of him when he did squats — for the purpose of giving him a quick kiss every time he did a rep, she informed him. He was supposed to do a series of 8 but ended up doing at least 12 reps, even with all that weight on his back.

He had shown her his favorite scope, detached it for her inspection from the SAKO he had in the safe. She said it was cool, but she knew a few better ones. And then she looked at him with a mischievous grin and said he should be fingering her instead of gun parts.

They had made love several times a day, just unhinged sex, until he felt soft in the head. Sex in the morning and sex in the evening, and sex at night when the other had woken up, too excited to sleep. They had showered together and done it there, too. He had dried her with his towel and carried her back to bed, all wet and giggling and soft and so sweet he had no words for her, neither in German nor English.

They had ordered takeaway on the last night, and he had watched as she ate it straight from the box, wearing only - and only - one of his shirts that looked huge on her. He had eaten her out not shortly after.

She gave him his first blowjob in the hallway of his apartment, just before he had to leave. He had almost missed the plane. Only when he was running to the gates that were already closing had it occurred to him that perhaps that's what she had aimed for.

And when the plane finally took off, he was blanketed by everything she said. That he was an adorable dumbass and her big boy and a gentleman and how good he was in bed, and that she would count the days to when they would see each other again. And that if he got killed, she would come and raise him from the dead and kill him again for daring to leave her.

"Ja, I got that pint. And the… girl."

"König got laid?" Fender nearly choked on his spaghetti.

Zero gave a hearty laugh, and König felt his cheeks grow hot under the mask.

"That's my man!"

He felt a slap on his back and Conor's eyes on him from across the table but didn't care.

They would eventually get interested in the toy soldier attached to his rifle, dangling from a key chain. The token bestowed upon him... her blessing. Physical evidence that she was real and had left with his shirt and now slept in it.

A reminder that he had a home to go back to.

#könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig imagine #mw2 smut #my fics #könig x oc #könig #könig x female oc

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thefiresofpompeii · 6 months

Text

(first time watcher here teehee) losing my mind over this exchange. the common consensus is apparently that this episode is below-mid grade filler, but i beg to differ, not even only because it would have been a lifeline to little withdrawn artistic autistic girl me had i watched it at chloe's age. just– look at the subtext. they're talking about themselves, each other, their own mutual codependency. sure, rose wasn't lonely before meeting him per se, but she had been living day-to-day unfulfilled and underappreciated. and four billion? that's close to the population of a decent sized planet. i don't know how many gallifreyans there were and i'm not delving into the wiki for this because it's about words, not numbers. words very particularly chosen. two lonely kids who needed each other, desperate to be loved. 'it' (the relationship, the symbiosis, the empathic link, the isolus as doctor and chloe as rose) will just keep pulling 'kids' in: people, lives. mostly strangers for now, apart from mickey, but it's as if the writers this whole series have been beating over the audience's head with the message... this is the story of a love doom(sday)ed by the narrative. the doctor gets more arrogant, rose gets more infatuated; the little inside jokes and side glances and sarcastic private detective duo dynamic they've got going on, so easygoing and carefree and invincible – it's all set to crash and burn.

#don't mind me p.s. i don't know anything. im making it up as i go along because this show has consumed my mind #doctor who #tenrose #fear her #doctor who series 2 #rose tyler #tenth doctor #david tennant #dw #doomed by the narrative #media analysis #jamie.txt

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kierongillen · 4 months

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i have to know - as a disco elysium fan who didnt do disco, what would you say is essential disco listening for me?

I'm hugely behind on the asks, but I have to answer this one, because I'm going to answer a connected but completely different question, and then maybe then loop back to you. I'm just looking for an excuse to ramble, and do the writer equivalent of a warm-up sketch (i.e. waste time).

My apologies.

If you wake up and decide that you want to get into a whole genre of music, there's basically two tactics.

(There's also the "Why would anyone care to get into something they don't care about", which is one of the few things I have a "There's two sorts of people..." response to - those who when presented by something unknown either think "why should I know about that?" or "why don't I know about that?" I'm the latter, and it's served me well.)

The first tactic is simple.

Jump on a genre with Best Of in the title and follow your pleasure response. Here's a Spotify one. What interests you? What excited you? What makes you laugh? Probably explore more of that. If not, indulge widely, and see what sticks. At a glance, Disco playlists seem to have the problem of most playlists, in that strictly not everything on it is disco per se. For example, Dancing Queen strictly speaking isn't a disco song - but it's a song about disco, in every way. But if anything has found its way on a playlist, it's found its way on for a reason.

In your case, you're interested in what Disco resonates with Disco Elysium. Which I've bought for C, but not played, but I'm aware of in a "if I was still a games journalist, this is clearly one I would write a lot about." I spent years writing about Planescape Torment, and I know a spiritual successor when I see one.

This makes me think the area you want is basically the classier end - the big bleak emotions, the chilliness, the control, lonely on a dancefloor, lonely everywhere, oh-so-much cocaine, and - to steal Paul Lester's line - glass mountains on fire.

Which leads back to the second way of getting into a genre of music - which is to hit a major artist, and hit them hard.

When asked about "how shall I get into a band" my advice is actually the opposite of what I'm about to give. If you just want to get into a band, get Best Of, see what tracks you like, then go to the albums they're from. But if you're trying to get into a whole genre of music, that's a more serious endeavour, and may reward the opposite approach.

Basically pick a key album from a key band, and get into it, and grow from there. Read about the band - you don't need much, but a little helps. Learn how to listen to what their tracks do. And then you use that band as the single point of knowledge you have to orientate yourself to everything else you listen afterwarads.

There's a huge danger to this - basically, no-one is more ignorant than someone with a little knowledge. You have to be aware that you are the person who knows a bit about Boss Baby, and using that to get into things other than Boss Baby.

The strength is that it's a more holistic, lived in knowledge than just skimming the surface. You understand the music better as an artifact of their times, made by people, responding to their specific situation - which adds different flavours to your appreciation of it. Sure, your own response and how it finds a place in your life is always the thing which over-rules anything else - but the more you can listen for, the more you can hear, the more you can get from a work of art.

Anyway - I'm telling you to go and listen to Risque by Chic.

Chic are basically fucking awesome. If you don't know Disco at all, the opening Good Times chilly ironic take on American late-seventies culture is a great and (I suspect) Disco Elysium relevant intro. You'll know it as a sample, if nothing else, and the eight minutes version that opens Risque is a great way to think about it as both music for dancing (it is endless) and music for listening (it is boundless).

I got Risque as Paul Lester went to bat for it so hard in the Unknown Pleasures book the Maker stuck on the cover in 1995 (it was covering 20 albums that had fell out of the critical conversation, and it absolutely changed the dirction of my listening in the period). Here's Lester writing about Risque more recently for a taste, as the original piece doesn't appear to be online. I just read it in my copy, and it's a burst of love, describing it Disco as music about love - never sex, only love, and mainly love that is denied. That seems solid, at least for the best of chic.

Risque is the Chic album that Lloyd from Phonogram would have been listening to, certainly. I know I did.

(Plus At Last I Am Free from C'est Chic, obv)

There's a lot of Chic to listen to - their own work, especially in the period, and all their productions. Their work with Sister Sledge is of particular import - Lost In Music was one of the working title for Phonogram, and you can see and hear why. They're also the Disco band whose influence is perhaps most obvious in other bands. Everyone liked Chic. No Chic, no Orange Juice, no Orange Juice, no Smiths, etc.

Sister Sledge was the first live band I was at. My mum went to see them when she was eight and a half months pregnant. The temptration to say I'd have heard Lost in Music then and sold is tempting, but ahistorical - it's well before their work with Chic.

Anyway - get into Chic. It'll make your life better - and when your life isn't better, it's a superior context to lose yourself.

However, to go back to your question, as a Disco Elysium fan, I'm not sure it's actually THIS Disco you're looking for.

How about Disco Inferno?

Not Disco at all, but most like itself than anything else, which sounds like what I understand about Disco Elysium. right?

(DI Goes Pop is the starting place)

#Chic #Disco #disco elysium

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celecaster · 15 days

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Okay as usual I cannot articulate myself worth shit but I think there is this gap of understanding between the Socially Inept (extreme edition) vs. People With Social Lives in that, so, some of the latter can be genuinely nice and non-malicious, right? The Inept are often weird and awkward and fine, creepy. The friendly ones with social skills may see a 'weird' attempt to engage with them and go 'Uh, this is weird and I don't want to deal with this, I'll just ignore it to be polite' and then when the inept person takes being ignored 'personally' it's chalked up to a sense of entitlement.

Look, I'm not arguing a person 'has' to respond to other people or that it's never 'entitlement' that motivates miserable people who cannot socialise worth shit. I have a really hard time expressing this in a way that makes sense but I think there is this... thing, see, where people who have always had some form of social relationships do not intuitively recognise that a person who has barely ever felt liked or wanted before will often lack the capacity to distinguish being politely ignored and being actively hated.

I've described this before as one of those Peripheral Vision things, like, when people reassure you with 'but people don't actually hate you, you're just harsh on yourself, it's all in your head!' it often ignores what is, to the inept person, a very clear reality, even if they themselves cannot pinpoint it: there is very, very distinct difference between being 'liked' and being actually wanted.

I'm not imploring people to Be More Attentive To Your Local Weirdos per se, I suppose this is more just a vague observation that a lot of people just really do not seem to conceptualise the depth of loneliness, as an actual lived experienced with tangible consequences. Maybe it's because being lonely is embarrassing so most lonely people express their loneliness in honest-to-God ballistic and irrational and even mean-spirited ways but loneliness seems like one of those things that people regard as an abstract 'concept' more than an actual thing that happens even when they're trying to directly acknowledge it.

#when the personality is disordered #d

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beloxiia · 4 months

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God. You are so insanely gorgeous. And you're a god. I cannot stop staring at you for the rest of the day even when you're in the shower or just laying on your couch. You must be so lonely... I know you are, but you don't have to be. You don't have to. I am here for you. I can't wait to see how you would make me feel when you touched me. I just want to cover my mouth and swallow you down to the core. You're so pretty and funny and I can't get enough of talking to you. I want to feel your lips on mine, kiss you, make out, all over, every single day. I want to... I want to get naked with you, and lie down and look at you, naked as a Greek goddess. I think you're the cutest thing ever. You're so delicious in every way, and I can't get enough of you. I just want to feel your mouth on me, as you bite down hard. Your voice is so sweet, I haven't had music like that in a long time. But your face, your body, your curves: you are beautiful. And your words, your mind... these are the reasons I am attracted to you

You mean so much to me, per se. I love you so much. I'm so grateful for you and everything you've taught me. I've never been so happy in my life.

#cael anselm #lovebrush chronicles #lbc #for all time #doodles #i think #cael brainrot

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effloradox · 4 months

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Oh that Thomas request with a forehead kiss was so cute. Could I pretty please request one where the reader and thomas start a relationship as ghosts and are super cute together. But most of the other ghosts just don't get it? They catch them holding hands or cuddling and the other ghosts just tease them until they finally realise how good thomas and the reader are for each other - 🌸 anon

don’t let the dreamer get lonely

This was such a cute request!! I hope you like it <3

Thomas Thorne x Ghost!Reader

You would think that after knowing someone for almost a decade that your fellow ghosts would be more observant to changes in your daily behaviour. Part of you is convinced that they have noticed and are just messing with you but deep down you know that most of them don't have the tact to do such a thing, especially Pat and Kitty. It can't be hard to miss all the adoring looks Thomas sends you, or spot the two of you when you go for your daily stroll to the lake for a moment of shared peace but the true nature of your relationship seems to have eluded most of your acquaintances.

The ones who know have been fairly upfront about possessing such information, you probably shouldn't have been overly surprised that Julian had been the first to work it out. Whilst you'd initially written the disgraced politician off as a crude fool, he didn't get to be as successful as he was without the eye for detail he obviously possesses. He'd been surprisingly happy to keep your little secret as long as it benefitted him every so often and to keep some semblance of normality you didn’t mind occasionally doing his bidding.

It’s not that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret per-se, it’s just been an enjoyable experience running around like teenagers in love. Thomas had been so bashful in the first few years when approached with any level of physical affection that it had taken months for him to even ask to hold your hand. Dating and courting rituals have changed so drastically since Thomas was alive that you knew the process of going from friends to dating would take a while but it had to move at a pace you were both completely comfortable with.

It doesn’t help that most of your fellow ghosts are quick to tease you and Thomas if you’re seen so much as holding hands. You’ve had more than one argument with Fanny over the implications that come with holding hands, since she can’t imagine a world where doing so without wedding rings is anything less than a cardinal sin. It’s almost fun to wave your entwined hands in front of her in the beginning, just to take delight in her mortified reactions.

It’s only when Pat almost walks in on a private moment that the cat is finally out of the bag about the two of you. He’d been on his way to his room when he’d overheard a loud laugh from one of the drawing rooms, immediately attracting his attention. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, not really, but it wasn’t hard to recognise your laugh and he wanted to know the cause of it. It’s only when he hears a quiet exchanging of words that it occurs to him that this isn’t the kind of conversation he can just walk into.

“You know, I think you were sent for me.” The way you speak is soft, like you're afraid speaking any louder would break whatever bubble you've found yourself in and it peaks the scoutmaster’s curiosity.

“You flatter me with your words.” Pat isn't particularly surprised to find out that Thomas was the source of your joy, the two of you are very close after all. But he's never heard you speak to anyone like that and he can't help his curiosity so the scoutmaster inches closer to the half-open door so he can continue listening.

“I'm serious Thomas.” The room goes quiet and Pat is almost afraid that the two of you know he's there and that’s why you've stopped talking. It's only when Thomas speaks encouragingly to you that he stops worrying about being caught.

“Go on my darling.”

“I remember when I was a kid I saw a shooting star on a camping trip to the lakes. My parents told me that I should make a wish and if no one else wished on that star then it would come true. Silly really, hundreds of people must have seen it, but when I wished and they told me it would come true I believed them.”

“And what did you wish for?”

“True love. It took a while, but I'm so glad you're my wish come true.”

“Your words put my poetry to shame my love.”

It's only when Pat hears a noise from somewhere in the house that he comes back to himself. He bolts away from the room, heading to where most of the other ghosts had congregated for Lady Button's etiquette lesson. Even Allison had joined for this lesson, mainly because Kitty refused to leave her alone about it. In his mind, Pat has an eloquent way of explaining what he's just found out but it all goes out the window as soon as everyone's eyes are on him.

“Thomas and (Y/N) are dating!” The room explodes into a series of confused and surprised exclamations, with only two ghosts remaining silent. Allison is the only person to notice that the politician sitting across from her has not changed his facial expression since before Pat ran in. If anything, Julian almost seemed bored by the revelation.

“Julian, you don't look surprised?” The ghost in question crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back against the couch he's resting on.

“Well they've been pretty obvious about it, if you ask me. I worked it out months ago.” The politician's expression settles into a smug smile as finishes speaking. Alison can't resist the urge to roll her eyes at his smugness, not all that surprised that he’s kept the information to himself. She doesn’t doubt that he’s used that information for personal gain either.

The other ghost that remained silent has still not spoken. Alison knows how close you and the Captain are, so it's more surprising that he hasn’t reacted to the idea of you secretly dating one of the other ghosts right under his nose.

“Cap?” The ghost in question seems to come back to himself at Alison’s gentle prodding, straightening up and clearing his throat. A hush falls over the room as the Captain speaks.

“He came to me about a year ago asking me for my blessing for him to begin dating (Y/N). Said it wouldn't feel right if he didn't ask the closest thing she has to a father figure. I of course said yes once he made his intentions clear, and they seem to be very happy.” At the news of the couple receiving the Captain’s blessing, most of the other ghosts seem to settle into the news, murmuring compliments about the two ghosts.

“I always thought they’d be sweet together. Just thought Thomas was too reserved to ever make a move.” Julian laughs at that, redirecting the attention of everyone in the room back to him.

“He looks at her like she hung the bloody moon. I dread to think of how much poetry he’s written about her.” Alison lets out an involuntary groan at the idea.

“As long as he doesn’t subject us to it at his next poetry lesson he can be as poetic as he wants.”

In the days that follow it becomes apparent to all the residents of Button House just how in love the newly revealed couple are. The most surprising thing to them is how it took them all so long to notice. Subtlety is not in Thomas’ nature, and Julian was correct in saying that he looks at his partner like she hung the moon. It’s sweet really, and the others make sure to start giving you space to be alone together.

#my writing #fics #fem!reader #requested #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts x reader #🌸 anon

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