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#creepy cute dividers

anitalenia · 1 month

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𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 / 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ .𖥔. ݁₊ ⊹ . 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 @justcallmesakira I hope these are to your liking. If not, don’t hesitate to tell me so I can get them fixed for you 🫶🏻✨

credits to me. feel free to use and save. of course credit would be appreciated but it is not required. I’m just making these for fun <3

#✧ ˚ 𝑏𝑢𝑏𝑏ℓ𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚 𓄼 ⊹#── ꒰ 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 ⊹ ˚.#cutegore #cute dividers #cute gore #cutegore dividers #cutecore #cutecore dividers #baby pink dividers #soft pink dividers #pink dividers #creepy dividers #creepy cutecore dividers #creepy cute #creepy cute dividers #creepy sanrio dividers #sanrio dividers

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fawndollie · 2 months

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do you hve cute x gothic pixels? maybe with some purples/pinks/black? Ty!

i didnt know if i wanted to do pastel goth or just cute gothic pix in general so i did both!!! might do a part 2 to the pastel goth ones if anyones interested cause i have a bunch of leftovers!!!! :3

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anitalenia · 14 hours

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𓍢 ꒰ 𝓶𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓰 ꒱ ‧₊˚𓄹 ꒷₊˚ 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠. 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟, 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐, 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑚. 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝘩𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡. 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. Ꮺ ⊹₊˚ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒐 . . . dividers I like can be found under the ꕤ*.ﾟ꒰ა 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 ♡ 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 ໒꒱ . ݁₊ ⊹ tag ┆ symbol packs can be found under the .𖥔 ݁ 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓵𝓮 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ tag ┆writing help can be found under the εїз 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐀𝐀 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 and ❀⋆ ─ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 ⊹❀ ֙⋆ tags

⋆˚✿˖° 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ♡ 𝐌𝐄 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ the pages here are still being updated as this is a new post, so here is the link to my old catalog for now until I have everything updated here. thank you ᡣ𐭩

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ RED | PINK | ORANGE | YELLOW |

GREEN | BLUE | PURPLE | BLACK | WHITE

SILVER | GOLD | BROWN | MULTIPLE ₊ ⊹˚

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 & 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐜𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧 / 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 & 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 / 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 & 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢 / 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 / 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐠𝐢𝐟 / 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

━━ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

ONE ♡ TWO ♡ THREE ♡ FOUR ♡ FIVE ♡

SIX ♡ SEVEN ♡ EIGHT ♡ NINE ♡ TEN ♡

ELEVEN ♡ TWELVE ♡ THIRTEEN ♡

FOURTEEN ♡ FIFTEEN ♡ SIXTEEN ♡

SEVENTEEN ♡ EIGHTEEN ♡ NINETEEN ♡

TWENTY ♡ TWENTY ONE ♡ TWENTY TWO

TWENTY THREE ♡ TWENTY FOUR ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ONE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ TWO ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ THREE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ FOUR ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ FIVE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ SIX

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

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I just had the cutest fluffy Bucky thought and I love your soft fluffy stories! ❤️

The team loads into the jet but you somehow end up last in and the seats around Bucky are taken so you sit on his lap. Steve/Tony tell everyone to prepare for departure so while everyone is buckling in, you pull Bucky's metal arm around your waist. Steve/Tony tell you to find your own spot with an actual seatbelt. "You really think that flimsy piece of fabric will keep me safer than this?" Bucky is smug and smirks at everyone but inside he's melting because the thing he hates most about himself makes you feel the safest. 😭🫠🥹

Hooked On A Feeling

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 897

Summary: Bucky has always been the one who makes you feel safest and maybe, just maybe, he can start to believe it's true.

Author's Note: Hi sweets! Thank you so much for this super sweet request, I absolutely love the idea of him being readers 'seatbelt'! So cute! I hope you enjoy this and thank you for kind words! Have a lovely day! 🥰Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you love🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @mcavoys thank you lovely💕

“Let’s go slow poke!” Sam shouts. “We gotta get outta here.”

You trudge up the platform and into the jet, your legs sore and tired from the mission.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’”, you grunt.

You step foot inside and have to jump forward at the sound of the hatch beginning to close. You shoot Sam a dirty but playful glare before surveying the seating situation.

There isn’t any place to sit unless you’re going to squeeze yourself uncomfortably into the corner.

With a defeated sigh your shoulder slump and just before you resign to the worst seat ever you catch Bucky’s eye. He’s staring at you, his expression soft and inviting.

“Grab a seat!” Sam shouts your way. “We’re takin’ off.”

You plod over to Bucky and stand between his widely spread legs.

“Can I sit with you Buck?”

“Of course ya can doll,” he says, patting his thigh.

You sit yourself down and lean against his chest, the tension of the mission melting from your body.

“Find a real sit babe,” Sam grumbles. “With a seatbelt.”

You roll your eyes and mumble something incoherent but then you realize you have the best seat on the jet.

With a smirk you take Bucky’s metal hand in yours and pull his arm around your waist. He immediately tightens his hold on you and pulls you closer.

“A real seatbelt,” Sam chides.

“You think one of those seatbelts is going to be better than this?” you ask with a scoff as you run your fingers over the metal plates on Bucky’s arm. “I’m in the safest spot on the jet.”

You turn your face to Bucky and give him a sweet smile. “And the comfiest.”

He blushes under your praise and dips his head with a chuckle. “Thanks doll face.”

You rest your head along his shoulder and give his scruffy cheek a kiss.

He looks up and locks eyes with Steve who is grinning like an idiot. Bucky throws Steve a smug smile and curls his other arm around you.

The ride back is smooth and you fall asleep in Bucky’s arms. When the jet lands everyone quickly unbuckles themselves and stands, eager to get home and rest.

You don’t stir and Sam walks over, opening his mouth to wake you.

“Don’t,” Bucky whisper shouts. “I’ve got her.”

He carefully releases his seatbelt and stands with you in his arms.

Once he’s brought you to your room and laid you on your bed he lingers in the doorway, watching your sleeping form.

“Don’t be creepy man,” Sam teases as he walks by.

“Huh?” Bucky asks, dragging is eyes away. “I’m not…I was just making… forget it.”

“You know she likes you right?” Sam says as he follows Bucky down the hall.

“Nah. She’s just a sweetheart. She likes everyone,” Bucky counters with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“She definitely is but I see the way she looks at you,” Sam continues.

Bucky is quiet for a moment before he shrugs off the comment and grabs a water bottle. “I’m gonna go shower.”

When he’s showered and dressed he walks back to your room and gently knocks. He doesn’t hear anything so he slowly pushes the door open and sees your body still curled up on the bed.

You shift and quietly speak his name.

“Yeah, it’s me doll. You ok?”

With a languid stretch you turn toward him and smile.

“I’m good, still tired though but I’m gonna go shower. Will you hang out? I won’t be long.”

“Sure doll.”

You shuffle off to the bathroom, returning shortly after in a tank top and shorts.

Bucky is sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through Netflix and he looks up at the sound of your feet.

He stares.

Your skin heats but despite the feeling a shiver skims down your spine.

“Are you cold?” he asks, standing as he swallows hard. “You can have my shirt…not that you need to cover up or anything, it’s just…I don’t want you to be cold but you uh look…you look beautiful. You always do.”

His awkward rambling dissolves your nerves and you step closer.

“Thanks Buck and yes, I do want your shirt, it’s chilly.”

Taking the hem of his Henley in his hands he begins to lift it over his head, revealing the patch of skin just above his sweats and the dark trail of hair that disappears into the waistband.

His tee shirt falls back down once he pulls the Henley off and you inwardly sigh.

With delicate movements he helps you into his shirt and you wrap yourself up in it’s warmth and smell.

“What do you wanna watch?” you ask him.

“What was that?” he says after a beat of silence, his gaze full of emotion as he stares at you in his Henley.

You repeat your question and he pulls out his small notebook, showing you the movie list he’s compiled. After you pick one you get comfortable on your bed and call him over. When he lays down you shimmy closer and slide under his metal arm, laying your head on his chest and snuggling into him.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“For what?” you ask as you crane your neck to look at him.

“For trusting me.”

You slip your fingers through his and give them a squeeze. “I always feel safest with you.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @goldylions @dreamlessinparis @lookiamtrying @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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starryknight-tarot · 3 months

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𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱?

pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings Hello my beautiful souls✨ Today we will be looking into what about you makes your future spouse blush! This was requested a while ago so I am glad to finally get to it! Remember to meditate, take a deep breath, and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. The divider is from @khaer and the pictures are from the game Genshin Impact.

Pile 1 Cards: The Chariot rx, Two of Swords rx, Page of Cups, Two of Wands, Death rx, Judgement, The World, Seven of Cups, Four of Swords Back of the Deck: The Hanged Man

For my Pile 1's, I think your fs blushes at how much life you radiate. This pile is giving strong childhood best friend vibes but it doesn't have to be. I heard "this is the meaning of being alive" and I think your fs is going to realize this when they are with you. You have strong radiant energy, I feel like the world just feels full of color when your fs is with you Pile 1. They love when you are unpredictable and spontaneous in your energy, especially a surprise kiss ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧. When you are in nature or having a picnic, they get really excited to be there with you and it makes them a little shy. They seem pretty poetic when talking about you (which fits with Kazuha LMAO). Although they seem a little shy, like they want to tell you how you make them feel, but they get too embarrassed with themselves and wimp out. Anyway, I feel like physical touch is going to be pretty big with your fs, like I feel like a simple touch on their shoulder or holding their hand can make your fs a blushing mess. I am also getting that if you keep eye contact with them for too long, they start to get nervous, and I feel urged by spirit to say, keep looking at them lol. Like, it's going to make them so flustered in the CUTEST way, spirit recommends (ofc if they seem like really uncomfortable then don't push too much but you know, try it lol). Your fs gets shy when they see how confident you are. Even if you don't feel so confident, I feel like you guys have some natural confidence in your everyday life which makes you look fearless and proud and I think your fs will love this about you. I heard for some of you, possibly just one of you, your fs is going to get frequent nose bleeds because of you when they start feeling shy about you. Or they are going to try to hide when they are feeling shy but fail horribly. Also for a small amount of you, but for my musicians, they love watching you performing, especially if you are writing a song for them or something, I can feel your fs's heart beating as they listen to your music. Even if you do a little silly karaoke session or something and sing a love song, they would eat it up lol. You may have a really pretty voice Pile 1. Also not in a creepy way but I think they get really shy when they watch you sleeping. I feel like you look so cute when you sleep Pile 1, or they see you as really cute when you sleep. There were a few 18+ messages that I got immediately when I started the reading, but I'm trying to keep it PG lol.

Advice Cards:

Make a commitment and follow through

It's time to try something new!

Get clear about your intention and hold firm

A connection needs deeper attention

You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!

Your heart is a center of intuitive intelligence. Listen to it!

Channeled Songs: congrats yall get three lol

Pile 2 Cards: Nine of Cups rx, The Moon, King of Wands, The High Priestess, Two of Pentacles, Six of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Six of Cups Back of the Deck: Knight of Swords

So for my Pile 2's, what makes your fs so shy about you is how cool you guys seem. You have some really strong, confident energy that almost seems intimidating and your fs seems to be obsessed with it. Take it how it resonates but I am hearing goth mommy lol. So I feel like some of you may have a bit of a scary vibe but it is really hot. I am almost getting Ramona Flowers vibes, even if you are a guy (In fact, I feel like the energy of this pile reminds me a lot of the relationship between Ramona and Scott, if you haven't watched it, this is a reference to the movie Scott Pilgrim vs The World). You give off a very mysterious and cunning energy that I feel like people can't help but be attracted to, including your fs. Yeah, I am just really getting that your fs finds you incredible like, they are in awe in your presence. Like I am hearing "jaw dropping, phenomenal, show stopping." I think this is my simp pile lol. You may have black cat energy and your fs loves it so much like find you so cool but also adorable. Your fs almost has a bit of a trophy wife/husband/spouse vibes like they just like to watch you succeed and accomplish your dreams. They seem like the type to give up on their dreams to support yours which is kind of sad lol. But they find you daring, bold, and so so creative. Your fs has very funny energy, I feel like they just want to shout to the whole world about the stuff they love about you. You have energy that you are almost untouchable to them, like you are way above their level. They love this cool energy you give off, but I also feel like they love it when you let down your guard and show a more awkward and silly side of yourself. I am hearing specifically that they get a little shy when they see you in your pyjamas, especially if they are really cute, like they eat that shit up. When you relax and show your imperfections, they can't help but admire you. Ugh this pile so cute! I also feel like they like it when they manage to get you all flustered. They also seem to really like if you wear glasses, I can feel how blushed they get when they see you focused on a book or something and then they just watch as you fix your glasses. This seems to really rile them up. Your fs sees you as someone who is really competent and dependent, almost like they are confident that anything you try will do well. There is also so much moon imagery in the cards, I feel like they see you as someone who shines brighter than the moon on the darkest night. The brightest star in the night sky. Damn your fs is becoming a poet when they think about you fr. Also for those that have watched Horimiya, this pile gives strong Hori and Miyamura vibes. AND for anyone who has read the webtoon The Remarried Empress, I am also getting Navier and Heinery vibes which is iconic. I picked up on a lot of references for this pile, so yall may be a little bit of geeks lol. Advice Cards:

Weigh your situation carefully

Ask and you shall receive

Look closely at what is going on around you

Yes, you can . . . Set it in motion!

Make a commitment and follow through

Allow rituals to give meaning to your spiritual life

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3 Cards: Ace of Cups, Knight of Swords rx, Six of Pentacles, The Empress, Ten of Swords, The Moon, Ten of Pentacles rx, Ten of Cups, Three of Pentacles Back of the Deck: Six of Swords

This pile definitely has a lot going on. Your fs feels emotions really strongly, which I know can kind of sound silly since everyone feels their emotions, I am just getting that your fs in particular seems to be highly emotional. They may be a Capricorn Venus. When it comes to you, first of, they think you are absolutely gorgeous. I am hearing "Yup, that is the most beautiful person I have ever seen." and I feel like this is what is going to go through their head when they first see you, or something similar. Your fs is going to feel so shy around you because your appearance makes them feel ashamed to be around you. They might even have imagined being with you pretty early into the meeting you. There is a sense that they don't really feel like they deserve you. Your fs seems pretty introverted (ngl they are actually giving me Scaramouche vibes if yall are Genshin fans, take that how you will lol) they have black cat vibes and I feel like they are going to be pretty shy around you in general. I actually am getting that it may take a little while for yall to really get to know each other because your fs almost seems scared of you. You might feel like your fs doesn't like you at first, like I am getting you might be like "what did I do to offend them?" when they probably just have a resting bitch face or just have a scary appearance and they are just too afraid to look stupid in front of you. I feel like they are really going to like how different you are from each other, yall may have very different aesthetics from each other, I feel like you may even think yall are really incompatible when you first meet but that isn't true at all. Your fs gets shy when you guys are being romantic in any way. I am getting they not have had a lot of romantic attention before you so they aren't used to being lovey dovey with someone so every time you guys hug, kiss, hold hands, etc, they always have a light hint of blush on their cheeks. Your fs is very baby girl Pile 3 lmao. They also seem to love getting to know you. If you are the type of person to rant and talk all day about the things you like or what you dreamt about the night before or get all excited to talk about the things you did that day, they want to hear you and I feel like they even have hearts in their eyes when they listen. For the very specific group of you who are ambiverts, in the moments when you are more chill and introverted, I think your fs really likes the calmness you provide when you are like this. They love the love language you provide, especially if it's words of affirmation. Also for a small group of you, but if you are really good at taking care of planets or perhaps even take care of your own garden, they LOVE that, I feel like I can see very clear imagery of you surrounded by plants and flowers, your fs is just watching like they are looking at a painting. Super cute vibes here.

Advice Cards:

You are a natural teacher

You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations!

You are wiser than you think

Release all attachments that do not serve you

Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspect of your life

Mother Earth is the source of life on the physical plane

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: Ace of Swords, The Chariot, King of Swords rx, The Tower rx, Nine of Pentacles rx, The Hierophant, Six of Wands, The Wheel of Fortune rx Back of the Deck: Six of Swords

One of the first things I am getting for this pile is yall got crazy powerful energy. Like, my Pile 4's are powerful as shit, so your fs seems to be shy about all this power you exude. This is my pile for those who have very ambitious dreams cause yall just seem unstoppable in your fs's eyes. For pile 1, I felt like pile 1 would like to give their fs surprise kisses to make them shy and tease them, but I feel like for yall, your fs is going to give you surprise kisses when they are shy. I heard "Shut up and kiss me" so when they get really embarrassed, they may like to pull you in for a kiss. Your fs sees you as some sort of leader, like I feel like I can imagine you standing tall on a pedestal, wind blowing through your hair and you look almost regal in this imagery. They see you as royalty and to them, it's an honor just to be around you. To your fs, your energy comes off strongest when you stand your ground and stay confident in yourself. Even when things seem to get scary, I heard "It's like you don't have any fear." I think your fs seems very vocal about what about you they love, like if you are doing something that really turns their gears, you will know. They have such cheerleader vibes, it's super cute. Also I am hearing something very specific about cuddling. Your fs loves to cuddle with you and I feel like they may get a little shy in moments when they want to cuddle with you. If your fs is more masculine, they make want to be the little spoon when you cuddle and the other way around if they are the feminine. I am hearing there is something about your arms that just feel so comfortable, like home. I also feel like your fs is just going to be very physically affectionate when you bring a blush to your cheeks. Also, if you are a spiritual individual yourself or if you also do tarot, they really admire this aspect of your life. I am hearing your fs is going to ask a lot of questions about spirituality and for the group of yall that do yoga, they may ask to join often cause they like to see when you are in the moment. But pile 4, your fs seems so sweet, like they don't want to focus much on what makes them shy and more on how you make them feel and I am getting you make them feel so comfortable. I heard "Home is where you are." there is a sense of someone starting with humble beginnings and being so grateful not only because they are winning at life, but because they are surrounded by love.

Advice Cards:

Release all attachments that do not serve you

You are ready to receive you fortune. Be miracle minded!

Have a closer look at your family situation

Take a lighter approach and smile about all facets of life. A smile reflects a heart at peace.

Align your body, mind, and spirit with your heart

A connection needs deeper attention

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

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candy-rat · 3 months

Text

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must)

★ A/N: I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #walker scobell #Walker Scobell<3 #Writer #writers on tumblr #x reader #fanfic #x reader fanfiction

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Text

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Get Her Back 4/4 (Word count 7.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The knife still juts from the table.

She touches it often, fondles the handle like it's her lover.

Days pass, and König escapes her stare with raised shoulders and poorly disguised hurt in his eyes. She feels his eyes on her every single time she's not looking.

He breaks into her room every night, but she never wakes up to his presence. The only thing that tells her the man's been there are the fresh flowers on her table next to the knife.

He brings her flowers every morning, just like he promised, and she keeps the blade there to remind him that he's still in her heart. It's like a silent conversation, and it stabs her stomach full of pain.

On the fourth day, he returns her panties. They're covered in dried cum, and at first, it makes her feel disgusted. Then her heart flutters, a warm feeling settles deep inside her stomach when she imagines him jerking himself off to her underwear amidst his knives, with despair and longing coating the air.

For anyone else, it might be a chilling thing to wake up to: to open eyes to the sight of a brutal tactical knife, freshly picked forget-me-nots and some cum-stained lace. But for her, it's a loving attempt to remind her who she belongs to. It's also a sign that the man is trying to let her go and finally obey her wishes to be left alone.

And she doesn't want to be left alone.

He promised she would never be alone.

On the fifth day, there's no flowers, there's nothing. She starts her day with a horrible, awful bawl. Then she puts on a black dress. It makes her look odd, like she's in mourning, but it also gives her… power, somehow. Even if it's another cute kind of cotton babydoll dress, it makes her look more austere.

“König, wait.”

She chases him down this time: runs to his retreating form that stops the instant she calls his name. He’s tense when she walks the last steps to him and hugs him from behind. The familiar scent of tea tree and gasoline and sweat and guns bring a visceral memory of madness to her mind. It’s an ambrosia of crude virility, and she's missed him, God, that she's missed him.

It's also safety. Because no matter what anyone says, he is the only one who knows her, sees her, sees right into her core, her very soul.

He slowly places a hand on hers, the arms that embrace his narrow, treelike middle.

"Engel…"

The voice comes out tight and strained. He caresses her hand with hesitation and swallows.

"I'm confused.. I don't know what you want me to do."

"Come with me," she whispers in his back. He has no gear on, and she can feel his abs through the black shirt, the way his shoulder blades flare against her cheek with shallow breaths. "If you want…?"

"Ganz sicher."

She takes him by the hand and guides him to her room. People look at them with pity and dread, and she feels like they’re in high school where people were divided into groups of popular and unpopular.

She knows where she and König would’ve belonged. Where they belonged now…

And she just doesn't care anymore.

When the door to her room shuts behind him, she feels a little tug near her heart. She had nearly forgotten how big König looks inside her little room, the space she has tried to turn into a cozy home even though she doesn't view the base as her home like the soldiers do. It's just a place for her to reside in when she's working.

But he does not fit into a normal society like she does. The base must be the closest thing to a home for him. Not every elite soldier is a lunatic perhaps, but König certainly couldn't find any other job in the modern world that would cater to his needs without sending him behind bars.

But he was supposed to kill only in the field. Only somewhere far, far away.

Why did you do it?

Why…?!

That's what she meant to ask when they're behind closed doors, but something quite different comes out instead.

"Did you miss me…?"

She stands before him, holding her hands in front of her, looking probably quite silly clad in black.

"I've been in hell ever since I left, Engel."

Christ have mercy…

Normal men just didn't talk like that.

"Will you forgive me?" He looks her up and down, but the calm, proud posture, the way he holds his chin high behind that dark shroud tells her he's not used to begging. She has a feeling that this question is asked only because Soap suggested it would be a good idea to apologize for making her so upset.

"It's not me you should be–" She sighs. "Look… That man had a wife. König, I think he had a kid and everything."

His eyes are covered in a veil of disinterest only she can pierce. There's actually so much going on behind that odd, distanced stare. But what’s horrifying is that he clearly doesn’t agree with her on this matter.

"I kill people every week," he declares. "Just not in the break room."

His logic leaves her wordless for a moment. The officer was not an enemy, he was not part of some foreign military, his only crime was that he was in a hurry…

She has barely even opened her mouth to speak before he finally defends himself.

"How do you know his wife is not secretly happy with the news?"

The question is like a bucket of ice dipped in her head. She had prepared herself for almost anything but this. König only tilts his head and narrows his stare.

"Would you want to be wife to that kind of man?"

Her mouth opens on its own; her jaw would fall to the floor if it could do such a thing. His worldview unfolds before her in full, and it should disgust her: but all she feels is an odd thrill in her stomach from realizing this man is not only possessive; he's also fiercely traditional.

"He just spilled some coffee on me," she whispers in soft, tender horror. "He just happened to have a bad day."

"How many times a week did he have a bad day?"

The defense is solid, even if it's preposterous. The man was rude and disrespectful, yes. To everyone, every day, probably continued the abuse at home, too. But he didn't deserve to be killed for it. Still, König doesn't seem to find any fault in his way of thinking.

"I can tell when people are evil," he crosses his arms over his chest as a final note.

Evil…

Evil.

She's left blinking, then she finds her tongue again.

"You can't just… deal punishment like that," she huffs.

"Why not?"

Jesus Christ…

His arms are still over his chest, and he looks… so big, so powerful, like an omnipotent being.

Probably thinks he is.

"Will you go to jail?" She changes the subject because arguing with this kind of man seems futile. Downright hopeless.

"No," he says with perpetual calm. "Would you want to see me in jail?"

"...No."

He finally unravels his arms and takes a few steps toward her. That swaying lounge is intoxicating and seductive, even when he doesn't mean it as such. It's just the way he walks, but it makes her woozy.

"Engel. You are too… kind for this world."

More odd arguments are laid out before her, more confusion and love and pain. He raises a hand to touch her arm and make his point clear. The weight of him is heavy and adult, his military clothing is in blaring contrast to her tiny, childish dress.

"You don't understand it now, but perhaps someday you will."

The man looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with her. She's a child in his eyes, but something in this lunacy tells her she's dealing with a child, too: a boy who no one ever loved.

"My little angel. Always wearing pretty dresses," he says more softly now.

"I'm not an angel."

"Yes you are," he rules without effort. "And you look good in everything. But you shouldn't wear black."

"Why not…?"

"Because you belong with flowers."

Her heart aches, her eyes prick with burning tears. He's self-aware, that's for sure. He knows what he has done to her, what he is doing to her. And he wishes to spare her from him.

"I thought you liked black," she peeps, her mind and will and defense breaking.

He doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes down her cheek, then cups her chin softly. That same hand must be ironclad when it grips his enemies and brings them to his blade.

"I like this dress," she tries to quarrel, voice shaking.

"And I know a knife that would go perfectly with it."

His eyes are warm. There's even a passing sadness in them. She's relatively sure that he's not talking about butterfly knives any longer – she's almost certain that König hasn't gifted his weapons to any other human being on this earth.

“How about we take off that pretty little dress now, hmm?”

The time for the compulsory explanations is over in his mind, and it’s time for sex. He knows that his exile has ended, that whatever liminal space they walked in for a few days wasn’t enough to rid herself of him. There’s no turning back anymore, and he looks at her with amused hunger when she obeys his suggestion which is, in truth, a command.

Her fingers do not shake anymore as she undresses for him, but a shiver goes through her guts: that stare is a look from beyond. He’s a madman, and falling more in love with her every day, even if the only way he knows how to love is by stabbing people with his cock or his knife.

“Lie down,” he gives her more orders when she stands before him with nothing on.

It’s futile, completely futile to pretend that she doesn’t want this. It’s almost like an act, the way she slowly and demurely obeys his command. In reality, she wants nothing more than to be devoured by him.

He takes his clothes off while she waits for him on the bed like an injured bird. He rips, then throws his gloves off like they have done something naughty, all the while his gaze is fixed on her. She has missed the sight of that faint hair on his abs, missed that broad chest, missed how his muscles bunch even when he gets out of a shirt that weighs practically nothing in his hands.

The long, veined cock flies out from his pants with a demanding bounce that makes her swallow. They form an odd pair on the floor: her little dress and his huge woodland camos. His eyes are surrounded in black paint under the eternal mask, but otherwise, he's the palest man she has ever seen.

Her breasts rise and fall with aroused breaths as he settles himself beside her, naked and blazing. His cock is pure fire when it gets trapped between them, and he's already drooling hot precum on her thigh.

He's gentle, kind of. Slides a hand over her shivering stomach, palms one breast, then takes a nipple between his fingertips and gives her a pinch.

“Did you miss me too?”

The hood makes him look like a hangman, and he’s infuriatingly patient now. She expected him to rail her like a sex toy right after the door was closed.

"Yes."

He releases her, and the callous descends with a gentle, deliberate caress to her waist.

"Then you're the first who ever did."

She just might be the first woman he's gentle with, too, and she cannot help but think if it's because of what she said just before he killed that poor man. If the last piece of the puzzle locked in place when he realized how much she admired him. If her confession also made him stake his claim in the loudest possible way, announcing everyone that he's her protector.

It's not her fault that the man's dead, but she should be ashamed: she's wet already when the murderer's fingers delve further down to meet her folds. He disappears somewhere in her wetness, and her thighs rise and drift apart to give him full access.

And it's always like this: she spreads legs for him with a helpless, longing stare, he takes in what belongs to him with dark, pleased hunger.

He finds her clit in no time, drags his thumb over it, and she gasps. Her breaths come quick now, her nipples are shot to the sky and her back is already arching when he delves down and slides one finger inside. It's long and lean, and her cunt grips him like they have been apart for four weeks instead of four days.

He sighs under the mask, just from her greedy response. She wants to touch him too, but doesn't dare to move when he's looking at her like that. He starts to finger her gently, first with one, then two digits while attending to the tight nub on top. And he's good with a knife, quick with his hands, so what did she expect?

But she’s also sad and mad. Because he definitely knows what he’s doing. And it makes her think…

"Have you had a lot of women..?"

Her question is a mouse's whisper. His fingers halt inside her; they spread her with delicious torture.

"A few," he says. "Back in Austria."

He buries his face in her neck and nuzzles his way to her ear. The bag of darkness is soft and hot, but nothing compared to his heated whisper.

"But they were nothing like you."

He punctuates the declaration by curling the fingers inside her. She bites her lip to stifle a filthy, needy moan. He even grinds his hips against her: that cock is like a heated spear against her soft thigh, and more cum oozes out to trickle down her leg.

"How many men have had you, Engel?"

He doesn't ask: how many men has she had. She may not be his plaything, but she is his possession. In his mind, she belongs to him and only him, no matter who has come before. But the murderous passion with which he waits for her answer makes her flustered, and she bolts her mouth tight in an indication that she will not disclose this information.

"Gut. Don't tell. I would kill them all."

Oh.

Oh…

"Would you like that…?"

"No," she whimpers.

"Yes you would."

“I don’t–I don't want you to–”

“Shh.”

He’s working those fingers smooth and quick, and she’s already leaking on his hand, probably on the bed, too… The room is filled with sighs and whimpers and sobs as he fucks her with slick, wet sounds. She's close the edge in mere minutes, but he won’t let her finish.

Instead, he pulls out just when she's about to tighten around him.

"Why-why did you stop?"

"Angel... Take me in your mouth," he rasps, breathless too despite trying to disguise it. She briefly wonders if this is some sort of a punishment. That perhaps she’s ordered to give him a blowjob just when she’s about to come – after all, she has dared to keep him waiting for days.

But that’s not the case, it seems, as she moves with heavy limbs to fulfill his wish.

"Nein… Other way around. I want to taste you."

The perverse suggestion in the break room turns into a reality as she realizes what he wants to do. Her heart is pounding when she crawls on top of him to meet that leaking cock. How exactly is that thing even going to fit inside her mouth?

A sudden shyness takes her as her thighs are forced into a wide-legged spread from straddling the broadest man on earth. She's exposed to the cold air only for a second before his breath hits her. The shortest shadow of a stubble on that usually clean-shaven chin meets her soaked cunt with hunger.

“Ah… Take it– in your mouth,” he moans orders to her folds, and her cunt clenches immediately, just from hearing that accent and that voice.

She moves to give him a shy lick, sweeps a tongue over that tip to clean him from all that precum. He goes tense under her and breathes heavily when she wraps her hand around him, wraps her mouth around the weeping slit.

He tastes of salt and sin, and the minute she tries to take more of him in, he groans with a dry throat. It's a hot, broken breath that travels straight inside her. It’s too much – the position is far too stimulating, it’s over the top wicked.

And then he starts to lick her. It messes up the blowjob that has barely even started. She knows his hood must be almost completely off, otherwise he wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Take a bit more, Engel," he urges between the long slathers that already sound lewd. There's simply no way to take it fully in, he’s far too long for that. The last thing she wants to do is gag on him. But she does a good enough job, tries to concentrate on breathing through her nose as she goes as deep as she can.

"That's…more like it…"

It’s a relieved notion somewhere behind her before he continues with the agonizingly slow licks. Fat and flat-tongued, the work of a famished man. For someone who's so clumsy with social interaction, he’s infuriatingly good at giving pleasure to women. The tip of his tongue grazes her clit, and causes a muffled moan – her mouth is full of him but she just cannot help herself.

And arms of steel close around her middle the minute she whimpers on his cock. They pull her closer to his face – he wants to hear her make noise, then, and her will to compete arises. She wants to make him moan too. She ups the pace, flattens her tongue on him every time she retreats…

"Where did you learn to–nnh…"

She nearly laughs at his surprise, at their silly little competition. He's shocked, probably jealous too, of her past and the imagined cavalcade of men who may or may not have been inside her mouth before him. She swirls a tongue around the tip every now and then, wraps her lips tight around him, and goes even deeper.

"Verdammte Scheiße.. I'm not going to last long…"

Strong thighs around her power up, and he has stopped licking her altogether: he's just panting in her pussy and holding on to her hips while waiting for the upcoming wave.

"You know what to do, ja?" He pants that question like she doesn't know he's about to shoot a load on her tongue soon.

"Don't make a mess," he shares advice with a sly tone to his voice. "Unless you want to clean after…"

He gives a short laugh as if the joke is funny. As if that's a clever thing to say to a cleaning lady. It makes her grip him harder, and he's close, so close: he's not even moving anymore, everything's just completely rigid under her body and inside her mouth.

"I'm fucking–cumming…"

He spills with a long groan, moans against her cunt, cries inside her with pain. The seed is hot and heavy, it shoots right down her throat even in this position. She does the best she can to not make that mess, but it's hard work when a giant cock pulses in her mouth.

"You're perfect, angel," he sighs behind her, tries to feed more of himself inside her mouth by rolling his hips.

The praise makes her pump and suck him even more, get every last drop out, and a tremble goes through her lover. She has to take support from the bed until the earthquakes recede. His cock is a clean mess after, and she's a mess too: overworked, and shy, and victorious.

They're both left panting: she tries to catch some breath there between his thighs after everything, but she's not allowed to rest and recover. The grip around her middle pulls her back, and a breathless man trying to lick her like it's the end of the world is not only far too much, it's unbearable. She's already overly sensitive and needy from the four days of barren grief.

"It's too much…" She tries to tell him, but he won't listen. If anything, it only spurs him on.

"König, I can't," she wails softly while resting her head on his thigh.

"Yes you can."

A feverish tongue dips inside her as deep as it goes. It forces her legs apart, she spreads herself all over his face completely unwillingly. There's no mercy for her as he flicks a tongue over her clit, plunges a tongue inside her as deep as it goes, returns to the nub again – does it again and again and again like it's some secret code meant to break her.

"You like that, huh?" His rough voice is muffled by her cunt, he sounds both parched and wet.

"Hm? Talk to me," he demands an answer although it should be obvious that she's losing her mind from his treatment.

"Yes," she mewls while being spread so crudely wide for him. "I… I love it…"

"Hah. You sound like a little cat," he laughs, pleased, then gets to it again. She's so close now that she can feel the growing waves. Her thighs are not just shaking, they're trembling.

"So pretty and so wet," he comments between the licking and dipping, voice covered with smoke from all the lust. And he's hard again, too: right next to her face, and she could cry actual tears – what if he plans on fucking her too after this? It's too much, she can't even take this, she can't…

But she does.

Her back starts to arch just before the orgasm. She's not weeping yet, but every noise she makes sounds like she's crying her heart out.

"Slow down, slow–down, please…"

She's a one-woman choir of tight pleas. She tries to muffle them by burying her face somewhere in his thighs and musk. The tongue dips in and out like he's a machine and not a man, and the first wave hits unexpectedly, like a searing, white-hot blade.

"A–ah!"

The climax swallows her, she starts grinding against that face without meaning to. He only laughs and buries his nose and tongue deeper into her slickness. The arms around her hold her like iron bars, his breaths hit her along with his tongue like she's strapped to a torture device.

Her cunt is sloppy, and throbbing, and he is a torturer, licks her even when she's lying on top of him in ruin: a devastated, trembling heap of a woman who's lost everything.

"Stop–König, you need to stop…"

Her weak whispers do nothing. His tongue sweeps her from front to back until she's crying on top of him. Frail fingers try to claw his thighs but grasp nothingness.

When he finally relents, he does it with another laugh. Then he gives her a last lick: a total bully, snorts a chuckle when a tremble goes through her entire body from just that single, fat sweep.

"Mmm. That was good. Right?"

"M–mh…"

There are tears in her eyes, but not one comes out. Her pussy throbs and winks with the aftershocks, and his hand moves up and down her back like she's that little cat.

"You're mean," she sobs. Complains.

"Heh… you didn't like it?"

"I did," she sniffs, and his hand moves to caress her thigh.

"I know you did. I know you. Everything about you."

He sounds merciful at last, pats her leg softly.

"Come here. I'll take care of you."

When she turns and crawls back to him, his mask is fully in place. He receives her with open arms and speaks more softly than ever.

"I have to take care of you after. Isn't that so?"

"Yes…"

She holds onto him, because he's the only thing that's solid in her world at this point. His aftercare is the most tender thing she has ever known: her hair is being caressed gently, the tension in her neck and back is soothed with long, loving strokes. He buries his mask in her hair and inhales her after-sex scent like it's a whole offering of incense.

"Angel. You feel like… like it's my birthday."

His statement brings another round of tears to her eyes. Instinct tells her that birthdays might've been the only happy days of the year for this man.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He sounds worried when she's so quiet and timid again. Her heart settles slowly into a warm pool of love, she presses herself against him with fervor, and he squeezes her in turn like she's the most perfect birthday present ever.

"No."

I really needed that.

I need you…

"I will never let you go again," he promises. "Never. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispers. "I don't– I don't want you to go."

"Little one. I'm so glad I found you."

He takes her palm and uses it to brush away the hood from his lips. The violent edge is always taken away after sex, and the devouring is gentle, the passion is blunt. His kiss is soft; sweet.

"König…" She's raw and bare in his arms, her adoration reflects back to her from his blues. "Why did you pick me?"

"You're the one who picked me, Engel. I just answered your call."

He takes in the effect this truth has on her, then takes her breath away with another kiss. A small giggle erupts in the lazy afternoon as he threatens to crush her with a bear hug. Her hand steals its way further under the mask: she meets smooth skin and a collection of even smoother bumps.

"Why can't I see your face..?"

"It's not a pretty sight," he sighs. "Father liked to cut me when I was little."

The laziness leaves her body that very instant. The man is detached, distant: as if he's sharing something trivial, the city he grew up in or his favorite subject in school.

She doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror, but what he says next sends even more ice down her spine.

"Now I cut those who are evil."

Everything starts to make perfect sense.

Why he was bullied at school, why people fear him. Why disrespectful, cruel men deserve to be knifed and why women and wives are angels. Why he wears a mask.

It's not sound reasoning, but it is a strategy, perhaps. Survival… A defense mechanism.

And offense is the best defense…

She had been right: this man is incurable, only in ways she could never have guessed.

Afterwards, he shows her his knives.

His room is full of them: combat knives, throwing knives, bowie knives, daggers, bayonets, balisongs, two machetes, a kukri, knives she doesn't even have a name for… There's swords and sticks and a riot shield. There's only one bed, nothing more, not even a nightstand.

And the room is also full of guns.

Assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, handguns; there's scopes, tripods, gloves, gas masks, a ghillie suit, pouches, plate carrier vests, magazines, grenades, even a launcher.

The room is filled with violence.

And she didn't know what she expected.

Some "Hot Gun Babes" wall calendar and a few pocket knives? That he would play by the rules and keep weapons and gear where they were stored instead of in his fucking room?

He gives her his third gift that pairs well with her black dress, or any dress, for that matter. Another knife, but not the kind he kills people with, nor the flimsy kind used for entertainment purposes.

She receives an automatic switchblade, simple but pretty. The double-edged blade looks almost feminine, the way it curves into a sharp, dainty tip. The handle is made of sturdy, polished wood; it's incredibly beautiful and so dark it's nearly black. The knife is only a threat when it's flicked open: all in all a piece that isn’t what it seems.

"Hier. Good little blade. Would take it wherever I go."

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, Engel."

She kisses him after his gift. She kisses the white scar on his jaw, lifts the mask a bit more, and he doesn't stop her. He doesn't stop her, not even when she finds more keloid cuts and kisses them too.

And he's… simply a man.

There's a human under all that darkness.

It's not a pretty sight, perhaps, but for those scars, she couldn't love him more.

"You're not afraid of me," he sounds surprised when she takes in the violence done to his face with tenderness in her gaze.

"No."

He's speechless. The barricade covering his eyes is permanently broken, and she can see him, all of him.

She falls to her knees and opens his pants, gives the man another round of love. He looks at her with pain and pleasure; a pale, adoring god. Strokes her hair gently while she gets drunk on him like a succubus, wants him to spill that white on her face and all over her pretty black dress.

"Cum on my face, König."

She looks at him with angel eyes while saliva and drool make a rope from her mouth to his throbbing cock. But there is nothing left of the celestial, nothing more than a sweet, fallen angel, and a safe space just for her and him.

"Please…?"

Ruin me.

He hesitates a few seconds, then grabs his cock in an iron fist like it's heavy artillery.

"Whatever my angel wants, she shall have."

. . . . . .

He brings her flowers every morning and fucks her every night.

Sometimes he catches her when she's outside in the sun, reading a book or watching the clouds. He carries her off to the woods and takes her against a tree like they're the first man and woman on the earth after tasting the forbidden apple. They share a few hushed laughs and more than a few desperate kisses under the hood, then he brings her back to earth, straightens her dress like a gentleman before leaving to have a date with death.

He takes her out to eat sometimes, takes her to the shooting range. Calls her his little Wildkatze when she takes a liking to one of his shotguns. He takes her hand when they stroll through the grass and sings an old love song from his homeland. He has a beautiful voice, especially when he forgets he's in company. Or perhaps she's just special like that…

They share a secret language in the base. Whenever he sees her, he draws his knife and throws it in the air ("I miss you") or twirls it around ("The things I will do to you tonight…"). Sometimes, he just places a hand on the handle of the cruel blade. That stands for 'You're mine'.

It's the closest thing to I love you before either of them have spoken the actual words. Or then it's the closest thing to I love you he's capable of.

She gives him a small smile in return, puts a hand in her pocket and fondles the gift she carries everywhere she goes. He knows it's a nod to his secret messages. It stands for 'You're my everything'.

She keeps the switchblade with her even when she's wearing a dress after work. Red this time, the color of passion.

She wants to surprise him: König always comes to her before nightfall, but this time, she wants to go and visit him. She wants him to take her in the middle of black steel and acrid gunpowder while she's dressed in blood.

"Be a darling and fix me a cup of coffee, will you?"

She's stopped by Phillip Graves of all people. Another man who has never paid her any attention. Apparently, red cloth is the same thing for evil men as it is for the enraged animals in bullfighting shows.

She does stop, but she doesn't obey his wishes. She just stares him down like he's filth: another thing she thought she could never do.

I'm not your coffee girl.

"C'mon honey. I've had a bad day." The man only seems to feed off from her silent scorn: like it's some dark game they're playing now. "You could make it so much better."

For fuck's sake…

Here is a man who disrespects everything about her: her position as a cleaner, her value as a woman, her rank as a shy being who is too kind for this world. She's simply a doll who doesn't know how to kill, who doesn't know how to say no. This man however, won't take no for an answer.

"I'm not here to serve coffee," she says with pure ice.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. And I'm off duty, too."

"Thought we could have a little chat, you and I."

"Why?"

"You seem like an interesting woman."

He seems pleased with the fact that for some reason, she's still here, that he has her attention. Thinks he's winning her over with some yucky flirting.

"And wearing a red dress like that…" He tsks, as if it's a crime for a woman to wear red. "Red can drive a man crazy, darling."

She understands why she has been invisible to everyone except König up until this point.

Because deep down, she knows if she would carry herself in full, show herself to the world as the woman she truly is, she would instantly attract love, and power, and hunger, and lust.

"I'm going to go now, sir."

"Tell you what. You serve me that coffee and I'll let you go."

She catches sadism in that stare. And to think she had always found Graves to be somewhat… arrogant, perhaps, but not cruel. The man obviously has a Napoleon complex, but he was not supposed to be sadistic.

How wrong she has been.

She knows she could just get out of the situation by filling that mug the bastard can't fill himself because of some stupid need to have a powerplay moment with an innocent little girl who happens to wear red.

But she doesn't want to. König would have ripped this guy's head off by now.

"I'm off duty," she repeats.

Fuck these men who are always looking for a plaything.

Graves rises from the chair. She's both cold and sweaty by the time he has taken a step, two, three.

But men are a bit stupid sometimes.

They think dresses don't have pockets.

When he takes the fourth and last step, with joy-tinged cruelty in his eyes, she flicks the knife out and open, and simply stabs him in the supposed direction of the organ called heart.

It feels thrilling, pure power: to sink that knife there and catch a man – a soldier of all people – unawares.

So this is what it feels like…

The hurt in his stare doesn't necessarily come from pain, but from the realization that he has made a huge miscalculation.

He looks down at the small knife that will be the end of him, then at her, the woman he thought was just a simple, shy cleaner he could bully into submission.

"You fucking–bitch," he gasps. Weakly.

By the time she pulls the knife out and stabs him again, she's somewhere far away. It hits him in the stomach, and he still doesn't do anything about it, and that's the moment she finds pity, and mercy, and horror.

She turns and stumbles, then runs from the room, unsure if the thump on the floor behind her is real or imagined.

"You fucking whore…!"

The shout is real enough though, and she runs, runs, with a sharp little knife in her hand for what seems like an eternity. That flight is a prolonged medieval torture moment that ends in front of König's door.

Her titan is as calm as ever when he opens the door, and tilts his head when he sees she's breathing fast.

"I think I killed Phillip Graves," she informs with eyes wide.

He blinks, then immediately looks at her hand, the knife, the blood. She goes to him, lifts a hand to his shirt in a desperate attempt to find support. There's not even that much blood. She thought killing would be much messier.

König said it would be messy.

"I… He…"

Her hands won't even shake. All her senses are blown wide and sharp, she sees everything, hears everything, but her hands won't shake.

Is she a psychopath?

"I killed Phillip Graves," she repeats, looks at his chest, clutches at the knife, clutches at his shirt.

The door behind her closes, and König takes hold of her shoulders with warm, warm hands.

"Well done, Engel," he says with such joy, such unbound pride that it snaps her back into reality.

Her jaw starts to tremble, her teeth clatter, she raises her eyes to him…

"He… He wanted coffee, and to talk, and he liked my dress, and–"

"Did he touch you?"

He asks it like it's far more important than what she has just done. She has to shuffle through her memory, but she finds no recalling of Graves laying a single finger on her.

"No."

He was about to. Right?

He was. He threatened me–

"Don't shed tears for him," König says as he looks down at her with mesmerized awe and infatuation. "I can promise you he doesn't deserve them."

Then he hugs her, squeezes her and just holds her, and she's still holding on to the murder weapon.

What will everyone say? What will my friends say?

"My little angel is good with a knife," the titan laughs proudly somewhere high above her.

People have killed each other since the dawn of time.

These things happen.

I'm not the first murderer on this planet.

"My poor little… He was a bad man, Engel. I promise you that."

It's not a big deal. He was a killer too.

He could've died in the field…

"I'm going to jail," she whispers on his shirt. She wants to let go of the knife, but fears it might hurt him or her when it falls.

And she remembers she's not dealing with normal people.

"They will kill me for this," she says with distant realization.

"No they won't," he strokes her hair like she's the best pet he has ever had. "I will take the blame. It was my knife, ja?"

She pushes herself away to look at him, then nods slowly. Her jaw just won't stop trembling.

"Good girl," he pulls her against him again, so fondly that it forces out a whimper.

"Mh."

"Come here," he coos while already holding her so impossibly close. He's surprisingly good at this: at comforting her. Or then it simply feels uncommonly good to have someone sturdy to hang on to while her life and identity are falling apart.

"I'm not sure if he's dead," she whispers when the embrace lingers on. König breaks the hug immediately.

"You didn't confirm the kill?"

She must look like a shy cleaner again, because his resolve is stone cold and solid.

"Engel, I will go and finish it. Where is he?"

She tells, because he would find out anyway. He would start a manhunt and cause even more ruckus.

But when his hand reaches the doorknob, when he's already about to go and finish her crime on top of taking the full blame for it, he turns.

"Do I have your permission?"

Her jaw slowly stops trembling, and a soft sweetness spreads through her heart. The elite soldier, the mass murderer, asks for her permission.

She is more than just special…

"Yes," she whispers, and he gives her a curt nod before storming out the door.

And he's not living in the 21st century.

Instead, he walks in the world of gladiators, rages in a blood-drunk arena, lives in a time where killing was the norm. He solves problems with physical force: it's just that simple. There is no complex society, there are no rules other than the rules of the heart and the loins.

Anyone who disrespects her will get the blade, anyone who might take her away from him will make him do whatever is in his power to prevent it.

And he has the ultimate power: the power of violence.

He comes back surprisingly clean: only a tiny speckle of blood on his camos and some vivid-colored grime on his hands.

"Done."

She nods with solemn silence. She's done, too. Done with everything, because everything's gone. No matter how high the sun is, she will walk in darkness from now on.

"I believe you Engel. He swore he didn't touch you."

And God.

She might be special, but a dying enemy's, a man's word is more worth to him than hers. As if she would try to protect Graves from his wrath by lying.

And Graves wasn't even dead…

But he is now. Probably tortured too to get the truth out about not soiling her with his paws.

"Did anyone see you..?"

"No. But they will know it was me."

It's another gift to her. Another murder. And her purity, intact, in exchange for a compliment, a testimony of his character during a lazy coffee break. For a few kisses on his scars of abuse. For letting him fuck her like a beast.

Her gifts are burning tears, soft flesh and tight little cries…

His gifts are cold, black steel, hot, white cum and a stream of crimson blood.

"Thank you…"

"I would do anything for you." He bows his head, a little nod to inform her that he is hers to command. "Anything you want, just ask."

She's at home in hell, filled with guns and knives and a fallen god. She knows he will take her again tonight, just like he has done every night in the past weeks. In every position imaginable, grunting, howling, panting, laughing how sweet she is, asking if she likes what he is doing to her. She has always whispered yes through tears of hot joy.

Sometimes, they come together and their gazes lock, and it feels like drifting into a starless space with him. He strokes her hair and coats her with whispers of love before they fall asleep. They always curl up together in the cover of womblike darkness, with soft little smiles on their faces, safe from all evil.

"Can you keep me safe…?"

It's a sad little question, but she doesn't feel weak. She knows he is lost in her too: especially when she's wearing a dress the color of blood, especially when she looks at him like he's her God.

"Please keep me safe."

He comes to her carefully, answers her summons. She's pulled into a familiar embrace, and she doesn't even think about Graves anymore: she thinks about whether König will take her on the bed that smells of acid sweat or on the wall next to the gun rack.

"Always, Engel. I promise."

She holds the most powerful weapon in her tiny little hand. A dark, fallen titan who has risen from the depths of the earth to pledge himself to her, body and soul, while her innocent little dresses flutter in the wind and make everyone believe she's a victim. But she doesn't feel sorry.

Because it's just like he said.

They belong together, she and him.

🖤 🖤 🖤

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #konig x reader #könig mw2 #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends #just friends fic

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