#i'm feeling a few heartstrings tear over here

[awakenedevildays]

「He doesn't deserve you」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

TW: slight angst, making out

Masterlist

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He doesn't deserve you, Art always thought that: every time he would look at you and your boyfriend he would think that, every time your boyfriend would flirt with another girl in front of you he would think that and even now that he sees you fighting with your boyfriend at a college party, he thinks that.

He watches you, your welled up tears pulling at his heartstrings and he has a half mind to take you away from Logan, but before he can do something about it your boyfriend storms off the room and you follow him immediately.

Art follows the two out the party and into the parking lot, standing nearby just in case something goes wrong as he watches as the two of you argue, "please, let's talk about it" you beg him as you grab his wrist to stop him but he yanks it off.

"I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of this relationship and I'm tired of you thinking of other men" he shouts and Art raises an eyebrow at what Logan said, you were in love with someone else? did Logan notice how he looked at you every time you would come to see your boyfriend at training? did you notice the way he looks at you? "what is that even supposed to mean!?" you yell as your boyfriend unlocks his car, you behind him.

"I mean that I'm-" your boyfriend raises his gaze from you and catches Art a few meters behind you "of fucking course" he laughs bitterly. 

You look confused "what-" you turn around to look what Logan is looking at and you see Art, standing there just as confused as you are "this is absurd Logan" you laugh incredulous but your boyfriend doesn't budge, he gets closer to you. 

Now the tone of his voice normal and Art can't hear what he says next "you think I don't see the way he looks at you? the way you look at each other? You and me, we are fucking done, you deserve each other" he climbs on the driver seat. 

"wait-" but he doesn't stop and in a few moments he is out of the parking lot. 

'What the hell just happened' Art thinks but immediately his worry for you takes over as he sees tears coming out of your eyes when you turn to look at him, his eyes soften at the sight of tears, "are you okay?" he asks as you wipe your tears away.

"I'm fine" you respond with a small sob escaping your lips, but before you can step back Art is in front of you "hey, come here.." he takes your body in his arms, hand rubbing your back comfortingly. 

you let out a sob in his arms, hands against his chest to weakly push him away, but you know that's not really what you want, Art holds you tighter, your cheek against his chest, tears wetting his shirt but he doesn't care.

"He's an idiot" Art says softly against the top of your head, his hand rubbing your back comfortingly, trying to soothe your cries "it'll be okay" you nod unconsciously, you'll be okay you think. 

Slowly your tears begin to dry up as you sink more and more into his embrace, feeling the safest you've ever felt as Art runs his fingers through your hair slowly. He can feel his heart beating fast and his breath becoming shallow as he holds your cold body. 

"we should go, you're freezing" he caress your arms to warm you up before taking off his jacked to make you wear it "but... you'll be cold" you say feeling bad, nose still runny and cheeks still wet while he tucks your arms into the sleeves oh his jacket.

Art shakes his head quietly and pulls the zip up till it covers your upper body completely "it's fine, I'm not cold" he reassures you as he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear with a soft smile, the action makes your heart flutter, "now come on, it's too cold to be out here like this" he starts to lead you away, one hand on your lower back. 

Most of the journey passes in silence, the only sounds you hear are your heels on the asphalt and the night breeze that moves the leaves of the trees.

"So, what happened? why was he mad at you?" he asks even if he's not sure if you want to talk about it. 

You sniff before telling him "he said he is tired of this relationship, of me..." you choke back a sob "of me looking at other guys and..." you stop as you reach your dorm room. 

His anger rises as he waits for you to end your sentence "... he mentioned you, something about the way you look at me" you finish as you look at him. 

Art sighs softly and looks away from you, guilt flowing through him as he realises that he does look at you in a way that's not appropriate if you're in a relationship with someone else. He looks back at you and runs a hand through his hair "was I really that obvious?" he laughs awkwardly but you don't laugh nor smiles, you face serious. 

"so he was right?" you ask him, your arms wraps around you to protect yourself and Art hates it. 

"Well-" Art sighs and his expression softens as he looks at you, your body language makes his heart clench and all he wants to do is pull you close and never let go "I guess so" he sighs as he looks at you "but you don't have to return my feelings, you don't even have to say anything" he hurries to explain. 

Your eyebrows frown "so you felt this way while I was in a relationship?" you ask your anger rises but you don't even know what you're mad about, you feel so confused and you feel like a monster for attacking him after he's been nothing but kind to you, but you're heartbroken and you can't think clearly.  

"I'm sorry" he says, his expression pained and his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, as if he doesn't know what to do with them. Art wants to reach out and hug you but he's too scared to do so, what if it makes you even more uncomfortable? so instead he continues speaking, "I tried so hard to get over you, to move on but it didn't work" his voice cracks slightly as he thinks back over the endless days, weeks and months where he tried to deny his feelings.

"This is all your fault, Art!" he sighs, hands against his face "I'm sorry". 

"please save it, I don't want to hear you right now" you interrupt him again and turn around to unlock the door of your room "Y/N wait-". 

"No, Art! I thought you were my friend" you face him again. 

"I am your friend! I didn't catch feelings for you on purpose" he defends himself "I mean who wouldn't be in love with you" he says, his questions clearly rhetorical but you only look at him, your head shaking in disbelief, his eyes are so desperate but still so clearly in love with you, how come you never noticed them? 

Art reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently stopping you from going into your room. "Y/N please, let's talk about this" his eyes are pleading and his voice desperate as he speaks but you just stare at him silently, your expression unreadable until you just pull your hand out of his grasp "about what? about you ruining everything between me and Logan, never talk to me again" you say before slamming the door on his face. 

He stands petrified for a few minutes before weakly knocking on the door to catch your attention "I know you're mad now and you don't want to see me, but when and if you'll feel ready to talk about it I'll be here" you stay silent, tears still blurring your vision as the sound of your sobs is muffled by your pillows, you know that you're overreacting and you know that you're probably more angry at yourself than you are at him but you can't seem to convince yourself to leave your room and talk to him.

"Goodnight" Art stands outside your door a few more moments, hearing you cry and silently blaming himself for being the cause of it before he finally walks away.

As you lie in your bed, your mind races with so many thoughts; Art, Logan, and your now broken relationship. The tears still stream down your face as you try to understand how and why it all went so wrong and you realize, that, in the heat of the moment, you forgot to give his jacket back, you bring the collar of it to your nose and inhale his smell.

The scent of his cologne and the fabric of his jacked feels comforting, almost as comfortable as his embrace was earlier in the night. Your mind is still racing as you try to make sense of everything that's happened, it starts to calm down when his scent envelopes your senses, making you feel safe and protected as your eyes slowly flutter closed and your tears finally dry up. You fall asleep seconds after, tiredness catching up with you. 

As the days go on, the amount of guilt that Art feels continues to increase, especially since you avoid him every time he tries to catch your eyes and he never felt so weak in his life. 

His tennis has never been so bad, his hits imprecise, never strong enough and he feels like smashing the racket against the ground in frustration. 

As he closes the dorm door behind him, Art he runs a hand through his messy and freshly showered hair. Frustration is the only thing coursing through him. Frustration at you for ignoring him, at himself for making you mad in the first place, and at his sport for making him feel even more useless. His lets the tennis sack drop on the floor and throws himself on his bed, face down against the pillows.

At first Art's mind is completely blank as he stays in that position on his bed, trying to get rid of the frustration he feels. That calm doesn't last though. All of a sudden thoughts of you invade his mind, your face, your name... he clenches his fist tightly, the knuckles turning white as he tries to control himself but his frustrations over you ignoring him grows bigger and bigger and he groans in tiredness when he hears a knock at the door. 

Art doesn't bother getting up to answer, doesn't even lifts his head "what?" He calls out, his voice strained as he keeps his face against the pillow. 

"Art? its me..." you say on the other side of the door and Art remains there, face shocked and limbs suddenly heavy. He scrambles up the bed and looks around, fuck, his room is a mess: clothes scattered everywhere, bed unmade and books stacked on his desk ready to fall at any movement, he slaps his forehead and a mumbled 'fuck' leaves his lips, he should have cleaned up when he told himself to do it that same morning. 

"Y-yes give me a moment!" Art quickly gathers his clothes and throws them under the bed before hastily straightening out the sheets and pushing a few pillows up against the wall. Once he's done, he looks around the room to make sure it looks presentable and opens the door with a hopeful smile "hi".

"hey... I wanted to give your jacket back" you hand him the jacket but he doesn't take it yet "oh you didn't have to, you can keep it" he offers "Art- please, take it" Art's small smile fades slightly when you insist on returning the jacket, but he nods and takes it from you "thanks" he says softly as he holds the jacket in his hands.

He studies you for a moment, you look good, despite what happened and he feels hurt by that, do you not care about what happened between you two? "you want to come in?" his thumb point behind him in his room.

You know you should decline, that you should get away from him because you're not ready for another relationship, because you know that if you enter his room you won't just talk and that it would be unfair for the both of you but your mouth moves before you can stop yourself "yeah, okay",

Art's eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting you to say yes. He smiles again and steps aside to let you in, closing the door quietly behind you as he places the jacket on his desk chair. His heart is beating fast as he turns to look at you, he rests his back against the door as he watches you analyzing his room.

Art's room is so... his, everywhere you look you see a trait of Art; his tennis trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, his books stacked on a bookcase and on his desk, the messy blue bed sheets and the framed pictures with Patrick and his family. "how have you been doing?" he asks, his voice soft and nervous, his hands now in his pockets, he likes seeing you in his room, he could get used to this.

You force a smile "I'm fine, and you?" you ask as you turn back towards him, his smile forced too "could be better, I've been thinking about you" he admits and you laugh awkwardly, arms again crossing in front of you and his lips falls in a displeased grimace "no.. don't do that" he begs. 

"Don't do what?" you ask confused and he points with his head towards your arms. 

"That... I don't want you to be uncomfortable with me" 'like you were with him', he wants to add, but he doesn't want you to think of your ex while you're with him, in his room. 

You hurry to uncross your arms "I'm not uncomfortable with you... I just don't know what to do" you smile sheepishly and Art does the same "I'm really sorry... about what I told you that night, it wasn't fair" you add. 

Art leans his head against the door, his shoulders slouch forward as he looks at you, he rubs his face softly with one hand, feeling the exhaustion of the past days leave his shoulders "it's okay" he says softly, his expression softening as he looks at you with sincerity, "I'm just glad that you're here talking to me". 

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in shock "that's all? this all you got to say?" you ask and Art looks alarmed as if he is trying to understand what he did wrong this time. 

He looks at you with confusion, not understanding what you mean, how could that not be enough? His expression softens slightly as he thinks about what you mean, "is there something else you want me to say?". 

"YES!" you shout "you should be mad at me, what I said was horrible!" you add, voice incredulous and he can't help but let out a small chuckle. 

"I'm sorry, are you mad at me cause I'm not...mad at you...?" now that you hear him say it out loud you feel stupid and your face heats up. 

Art stares at you as you try to explain why you're mad, a small chuckle escaping his lips that causes you to feel even stupider. You were expecting him to be angry at you, but instead he's just standing there with an amused smile on his face. "you want me to be mad at you" he clarifies.

You nod and he shrugs "okay, then I'm mad at you" he teases you and your patience is wearing thin. 

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience is quickly fading, you want to smack that stupid smirk off his pretty face but he just stands there, calm and unbothered "you think this is funny?" you finally ask, your tone clearly annoyed.

"a bit... yeah" he smiles.

"you are unbelievable" you scoff, your patience completely gone now. You walk over to him, closing the already small distance between you and look up at him defiantly and a hint of a threat. "you're not mad" you state and Art shakes his head with a small smile on his lips. "but why?" you ask, your arms crossed over your chest but he release them quickly, you really have to stop doing that. 

 His eyes flicks between yours, face now serious "because I love you". 

Your expression softens at his words, the fire in your eyes quickly dimming as soon as the words leave his lips. His smile widens as he looks down at you, taking in your facial expressions. You're at a loss for words, how can he love you even after you yelled at him and ignored him all week? Art watches you for a moment, before reaching out and placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin softly.

Art notices the confusion on your face, but he understands your silence, your uncertainty "you don't have to say it back, you don't even have to answer, but you should know there is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you". 

Tears begin to form in your eyes at his words and you try to look away but Art refuses to let you turn your head, his hand still gently holding your face. You don't know what to say, you're shocked and overwhelmed and Art is just looking at you with so much love in his eyes you feel like you might melt and before you can comprehend what you're doing your lips are on his. 

Art's eyes go wide at first, shocked by your action but he quickly responds by immediately kissing you back and cupping your face in his large hands. He pours all his feelings into the kiss, all the frustration, passion, love that he has been feeling. Nothing matters in that moment but the feeling of your lips on his, it's like time stops and nothing else but you matters.

He stands straighter, his body now taller at his full height and you have to tilt your head back to kiss him better.

Art deepens the kiss, his hands sliding to your hips and pulls you into him as close as physically possible. His grip on your hips is firm but gentle, his fingers digging slightly into your flesh as he keeps you in place. Your mouths move hungrily against each other, not wanting to let go, never wanting to let go.

The blond guides you till you're pressed between the wall and his body, a hand behind your head to prevent your head from hitting the wall, his body pressed tightly against yours, not leaving a single space between your bodies. The hand is now back on your cheek while the other slides down to your thigh to grab the exposed flesh there, lifting your leg to wrap it around his waist. 

He rests his forehead against yours, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly as you gasp for air. His chest is pressed against yours and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart. He chuckles softly, his breath wavering slightly and you can feel every breath he takes on your skin. His grip on you is still strong and he's not showing signs of letting you go anytime soon so you use the opportunity to stare at him. 

"not that I don't want this, but I think we should take it slower" Art says smiling. 

You nod in agreement, taking a breath before speaking up "yeah.. yeah you're right" you say softly as you reach up to fix his hair that got messed up by your fingers. Art chuckles softly, his hand leaves your thigh and joins the other on your hips after your fixing your skirt back down, he stares at you, his eyes full of affection and contentment. "I'm glad you came by though" he finally says after a few moments of silence, "I missed my jacket". 

Art laughs along with you, his smile widening at the sound of your voice and he finally lets go of your body. You regret the loss of his touch immediately but that's quickly replaced by the warmth that spreads through your body as you notice him taking in your body with his gaze, tracing over your form gently, as if he's trying to memorise every inch of you, his fingers go through your hair to comb it gently.

"I should go" you say reluctant but still, you don't move from your place and Art's expression falls slightly at your words, he wants you to stay but he knows that you're probably right. His hands slide from your body, fingers tracing along your skin but stops at your hips. He leans down to kiss you one more time before he takes a step back to give you space to walk towards the door "just don't disappear again, please" he says softly before smiling at you, his expression hopeful. 

"I promise, I know it doesn't look like it by what what we just did" you chuckle turning back to him "but I want to take this slow, to not ruin this". 

You can tell that Art is surprised when you pull him close to you again but he doesn't hesitate to intertwines your fingers "yeah, slow is good" he whispers before kissing the top of your head "I don't want to ruin this either". 

You look up at him and smile before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips softly "thank you" you say and he feels like he's in heaven when your lips touch again "I'll take you back to your dorm" he goes to grab his keys but you shake your head. 

"No there is no need, stay here, rest and take your clothes out from under your bed".

Art's face goes red as you mention his messy room and his attempt to hide it when you arrived. He rubs the back of his neck and laughs sheepishly, "yeah.. that didn't work as well as I thought it would" he admits as his eyes go to the bed where the clothes are still badly hidden under it "or... we could go eat together something for dinner, as friends, my treat" he offers. 

You smile at Art's words, his proposition to eat dinner together sounds great to you and your stomach grumbles at the thought of food "your treat?" you say and smirk jokingly at him. 

"Don't let it get in your head, you're just a friend to me" he jokes as he opens the door for you. 

You playfully roll your eyes "right, just a friend" you say with mock seriousness before walking through the door, Art on your heels as you both head towards the cafeteria, hands brushing together for the whole journey. 

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Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic

[watchmewhirl]

Just watched this. To everyone who found some joy from this era; this animation encapsulates a lot of the best parts of the journey. It’s home.

Go support the creator. I believe they’re @Cladelle. They spent two years on this and it shows. 

#youtube #hey go give this person some love #dsmp #its gorgeous #genuinly #i'm feeling a few heartstrings tear over here #rebloop

[brain-amoeba]

i was sent this ask:

"Hello, you! can there be a headcannon where, (Scout, Sniper, demo, and my favorite Texan, engi) hugging S/o and the merc is like: “Oh no I’m in love with them” as their face is all red? And, S/o is sorta worried about them and asking “you good?” this scenario has been itching my brain for a few days lol

Anon jilly🦭🌺"

and i believe you may have forgotten to turn anon on when submitting the ask, so i still saw your url. out of respect for your anonymity, i will answer here instead of from the inbox, so hopefully it still finds you well! also i hope you don't mind i do a mini scenario for these as opposed to HCs, just to give yall a little more content :3

Mercs Getting a Big Ole Hug

Scout

-You two always had a strong bond, and a dynamic like childhood friends. It was always fun and games with Scout, and when the time came, he knew how to comfort you and be there for you albeit in his own clumsy and Scout-y way.

-It wasn't until he noticed the way the other Mercs looked at you did he start to see you as more than just a friend--he now became acutely aware of how soft your skin felt when it brushed up against his, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, every small detail about you, and he couldn't believe he never noticed any of this before.

-It was your day off, and as usual, you spent it with Scout. The two of you tired yourselves out playing catch outside, as well as other fun roughhousing typical of your other pastimes. While running for the ball, you tripped and fell forward, but Scout was quick enough to catch you, and held you in a tight embrace. You instinctively wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head in his chest. He maintains his grip on you, but his face is as red as his uniform--all of a sudden the outside air feels cramped and he's getting clammy. It was like getting hit with his own Atomizer: all the times he's admired every little thing about you coming together all at once to beat him over the head with the realization that he was in love with you.

-You finally let him go, looking up at him and yelping a bit in surprise. "Scout?! What happened to you? Should we go see Medic?!" You ask frantically, concern showing on your scrunched features as you took in Scout's seemingly-ill state. "N-Nah, I'm okay, really! More than that, actually...I feel amazin'." He gazed at you with a softness you hadn't yet seen before, but it sparked a warmth in your heart and your tummy that you didn't oppose.

Sniper

-Sniper wasn't exactly one for PDA, let alone physical touch. Just didn't tickle his fancy. But you, something about you gave Sniper the desire, for the first time in ages, to hold, touch, and generally be around someone of his own volition. But for some reason, he just couldn't find it in himself to act on those desires. Whether it be his own deeply-instilled professionalism or cowardice, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, all he knew was him being afraid of scaring you off. So he did nothing. The minimal interactions with you now would suffice, and his imagination could do the rest.

-You weren't exactly having the best day. Just yesterday, you scuffed a one-on-one encounter with an enemy merc that cost your team the mission, and today's target practice was not kind to you either. You found yourself alone on the range, tears of frustration pooling in your [color] eyes as you trudged along to set up the target dummy Sniper once again. Overwhelmed by frustration, you found yourself hugging the Sniper dummy for even the slightest sense of comfort, dropping your rifle to the dust below with a thud. The real Sniper, who had volunteered to check on you, heard the sound of your rifle hitting the ground as he left the base. The impact immediately spiked his adrenaline and caused the worst thoughts to run through his mind. He quickened his pace, almost falling over in place once he beheld the scene. Sniper couldn't help but feel a tug on his heartstrings watching you embrace the dummy of him. A warm flush crept its way to his rugged features as he realized the depth of his feelings for you way-exceeded his expectations.

-It's now or never, he thought to himself, finally finding the courage to approach you. He put a large gloved hand on your shoulder, eliciting a fearful shriek from you. Your face reddened with embarrassment, stammering as you tried to come up with a good excuse for your behavior. Wordlessly, Sniper wrapped you up in a tight embrace which immediately soothed your worries. "Shhh. It's alright, roo. Don't cry, now." He spoke just above a whisper, and despite being there to comfort you, he himself was trembling with anxiety at what he's just done. When you finally gathered yourself and parted from the Aussie's embrace, your eyes widened. "Sniper! What's gotten into you?!" He looked down at you with a slight smile, as if it would conceal the way his heart pounded in his chest.

"You have, sheila."

Demoman

-He wasn't always drunk! Okay, maybe he was, but that didn't mean he was always unaware. He was especially aware of a certain little merc who always took him to bed, always got him water, and always made sure to wish him a goodnight, even when the rest left him to drink himself to oblivion. He thought of you very fondly, like a close friend more than just a colleague. You were the first of the bunch to ever show a genuine compassion for him and actually attempt to care for him even in his drunken state (and he knew that was no easy feat).

-It was another night like always, the rest of the team off taking care of their own business while Demo had some precious one-on-one time with his scrumpy, this time accompanied by you! And you were actually drinking with him! It was the weekend, after all, and you decided what the hell, why not, and let your hair down a little. While not nearly as intoxicated as your Scottish companion, you definitely felt the buzzy warmth of drunkenness sneaking up on you. You felt more bubbly, confident, and silly. You gazed upon Demo fondly as he slurred through stories of missions, both failures and successes.

-Right as he was getting to the story's climax, he raised his arms above his head for dramatic affect, and you impulsively leapt into them. "Awwe Tavichhh, I wuv when you tell stowiesss" you mumbled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if he'd leave you any second. The sudden show of affection almost sobered Demo up a bit, but he quickly dropped his arms and returned your embrace. In his drunken state, the warmth of your body against his felt like fire, and he couldn't help but notice the way you fit perfectly into him. Demo soon grabbed your shoulders, moving you back to meet his gaze. The sudden serious look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. "D-demo! What's the matter?!" He took in your flushed face as if he were looking upon the Mona Lisa herself before finally speaking, "Oh it's nothin, lass. I just enjoy lookin' at ye."

Engineer

-You were lucky enough to get some time off when you were informed this go-round of contracts did not include you. To your surprise, they didn't include Engie, either. You discovered this when you bolted for the workshop in a panic as you realized your prized headphones were destroyed! You were about to go on a walk before fishing them from your backpack and soon met with the disappointment of your prized possession in tatters--wires frayed, and hanging down almost mockingly.

-As you busted through the double doors of Engineer's workshop, he jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his wrench. "Well howdy to yourself too, darlin'!" He regained his bearings and approached you with a chuckle. "What's got you in such a tizzy, hm?" You simply raised the broken pair of headphones up*, looking at him like a lost puppy. "M-my headphones are destroyeeeddd!" You whined. Engie, behind his goggles, looked at you with a twinge of pain in his eyes just from hearing how distraught you were. Though he was empathetic to your "loss", he couldn't help but admire how adorable you sounded when you whimpered, and got a bit of an ego-boost from how you immediately came to him for aid. Engie took the headphones from you, inspecting them closely as he set them down on a nearby workbench. "Y'know, dear, these might not be a lost cause...let's see what some good ole fashioned Texan ingenuity can do!" He assured you with a sly smile.

-You fidgeted nervously as you watched over his shoulder while he tinkered away on your poor headphones. "Can I get you somethin' to drink darlin'? Maybe some water?" Engineer didn't take his eyes off the headphones as he spoke, currently re-twisting and wrapping wires before getting to work on the broken frame of the device. "I'm okay, thank you, Engie..." Truthfully, you were just too nervous to take your eyes off of the headphones while Engineer repaired them. Of course, you trusted his skillful hand, but with them being such a meaningful item to you, you couldn't help but hover over his shoulder and watch. Suddenly, Engie spoke up again, this time with a command-- "Close your eyes, dear." Nervously, you did as you were told. Engineer turned to face you, gently placing the repaired headphones on your head. Your eyes shot open and hands immediately went up to feel the newly repaired device now muffling your hearing.

-Without a second thought, you pulled Engie into a tight embrace. "Engie, you're the best!! Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, nuzzling his chest a bit as the two of you embraced. His large gloved hand gently caressed your back, giving it a slight pat in response to your praise. While Engineer typically maintained a relaxed exterior, internally, he was practically melting. A proper southern gentleman such as himself couldn't be indecent in the presence of a lady, but the fog on his goggles and pink in his cheeks said otherwise. You pulled away, removing the headphones. You went to inspect them further, but the sight before you stopped you dead in your tracks. "Engie?! You feeling alright??" He looked like he was about to pass out--and he felt like it, too.

-Engineer simply nodded, placing his ivory-colored cowboy hat on your head in response.

*this is exactly what i envisioned for this scene btw

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #scenarios #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #dell conagher #mick mundy #tavish degroot #anon #requests

[mytheoristavenue]

GOTG Rocket x Reader 🍋 - Heatwaves

Summary: Long from home, the ship's air conditioner breaks, resulting in hallucination-inducing heat. Your obvious crush on Rocket doesn't make things any better.

Warnings: Inspired by a series of TMNT fics I did a while back, sexual innuendo, dirty talk, degradation, praise, illness from excessive heat, daydreaming/hallucinating, suggestive situations, sexual tension, judgment impaired by arousal, fem!reader, non specified species!reader, humanoid/anthro!reader, takes place between vol. 2 and infinity war

You were so dizzy, melting into the sofa, sprawled out with no regard for anyone else's comfort. Your head rested against Mantis's leg, while your legs invaded Drax's bubble, not that he minded. His people didn't really understand the concepts of personal space anyhow. You were all in this boat though, Gamora splayed out on the floor as it was the coolest surface in the ship. With this heat, all there was to do to bear it was strip down to the littlest clothing possible before becoming indecent and napping to make the time pass quicker.

"C'mon, you guys, cheer up," Peter forced a cheerful tone from the cockpit. "Rocket said he should be finished with the repairs on the AC tomorrow."

"Thank God," you groaned, pinching the fabric of your tanktop to unstick it from your chest. "I can't take this shit anymore."

"Yeah, I'm so sweaty, it feels like I showered in my clothes." Mantis agreed from above you, doing the same and wiggling all over to have her shirt sit right.

"But you didn't," Drax gave her a lead-poisoned stare. "I have been watching you for hours and you haven't moved, let alone gone to shower." The empath's head very slowly turned towards him, her glare and pursed lips screaming that she was done with his nonsense.

"Ya know," the captain called again. "If you're hot, just think how Rocket feels. It's probably way hotter down there in the boiler, plus he's covered in fur."

"I am Groot." The sapling said, raising his head off Gamora's chest as she nodded, agreeing with him.

"I don't care that fur is like insulation, if you're hot, he's hot. And I don't see any of you trying to help him, so stop whining." Peter's light reprimand, admittedly had pulled on your heartstrings a bit. It was awfully nice of Rocket to fix the AC all by himself, even if he was the only one with the know-how to do it.

"He's right," you sighed, begrudgingly tearing yourself off the sofa, your exposed skin having stuck to it. Finally separated from the mound of leather and flesh, you stumbled over to the kitchenette and threw open the fridge before grabbing a few bottles of water. "Rocket might need some help, I'll go check on him."

-----

You had never been in this part of the ship before, slinking through halls and around protruding pipes and fixtures. It was much hotter down here, closer to the water heating systems. You had to halt for a moment, pressing your hand to the wall for stability as you hunched a bit. If you were already feeling faint, you couldn't imagine how Rocket was feeling. For all you knew, he could have passed out and nobody would have known.

Suddenly you began to make out a distant, distorted racket that echoed and reverberated against every surface. It sounded almost...melodic? Following as it became louder, it led you to a warm light that streamed out from beyond a closed door. You halted for a moment, now being able to separate the noise, which you now recognized as a voice, singing lazily. Rocket never sang in front of people and you almost felt perverted as you listened to his rendition of Silver's 'Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang'. "Now that it's said and we both understand," he softly crooned, voice carrying to far reaches. "Let's say our goodbyes before it gets out of hand."

Inhaling sharply, you finally found it in you to grip the door handle and let yourself in. Orange light flooded out of the small room and the music became as clear as it was going to get, loud enough to conceal the sound of the door opening. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Everyone had always been able to tell you were sweet on Rocket, and you'd never done much to hide the fact but seeing him now, bathed in marigold neon, laid flat on his back up underneath a large fixture...shirtless- it was too much for you. His fur was slicked against his chest from sweat and his jumpsuit was tied loosely on his hips, revealing much more of him than you ever could have been prepared to see. Adding to that his admittedly lovely, gruff singing voice, the scene was a recipe for an upset tummy.

Deciding you couldn't handle this, you silently tried to back out of the room, eyes trained on him like a deer in headlights. You may have gotten away with it, had one of the water bottles not fallen from the crook of your elbow, alerting him to your presence. Instantly, he rolled out from under the machine, set down his tools, and sat up, staring at you. "(Y/N), what are you doing down here?"

Now that you could see his face, you were in even worse shape. The white stripes on his cheeks were smeared with grease, whiskers crumpled, and fur unkempt. He looked incredibly rugged- more so than usual. "Hello? Knowwhere to (Y/N)?" he croaked again and waved a hand in front of him, voice hoarse from unrestricted use. "You okay?"

At last, you shook out of your trance, flustered to hell and back, and eagerly swooped down to grab the bottle. "Y-Yeah, I'm great! You're just really hot!" Rocket stared at you for a second, waiting for you to correct yourself before owning the compliment and mocking you for it. Obviously, you didn't take the hint, so that was his cue.

"Well thanks, dollface," he smirked, standing up and sauntering over to the doorway, taking the dropped bottle from you before popping off the cap and chugging it. About halfway through, he stopped with a deep, relieved sigh. "I always thought I was pretty hot but it's still nice to hear it from someone else." That's when your stomach dropped, realizing what you'd said. Time to backtrack.

"Oh my God, no!" you gasped, once again dropping what you were holding to slap your hands to your face. "I don't think you're hot!" Rocket looked at you quizzically, hand on hip. "I-I mean I do think you're attractive, b-but not in a weird way! More like a friend way!"

"Uh-huh," he teased, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe. "Friend attraction's the best kind, ya know? And don't sweat it, Quill says I'm hot all the time."

"Rocket, please..." you finally gave in, physically crumbling. "I meant like- you're probably getting hot down here and I wanted to bring you something to drink."

"I know, dollface, I'm just yankin' your chain." he laughed, pushing off the wall and walking back farther into the room to sit on a bucket. "I needed a break anyway, thanks princess."

"Princess...?"

"What?"

"N-Nothing!" You finally let out a sigh of relief, following a bit closer and sitting on the floor. "So how's it coming?" you asked, uncapping your own bottle after passing him the last one.

"Well, I've identified the problem, but I don't got the right parts to fix it. Good news is, I think I was able to work up a temporary replacement that should at least get us back to Knowwhere. I know if we can just get home, I can get a brand new part for cheap-" You weren't sure when, but at some point, you'd stopped listening, mind and eyes wandering.

" Ah, fuck, (Y/N), easy! Yeah, j-just like that, keep movin' just like that for me princess..."

"Are you even listening?" Rocket's annoyed tone brought you out of your daydream. You must have zoned out without realizing it, how embarrassing. "Jeez, you're hopeless, ya know that?" He chided, standing up and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands on.

"Sorry..." you slumped shamefully before trailing him as he got back into position. "H-Hey, is there anything I can do to help you out?"

"Hmm," he paused, laying back down on the creeper, ready to roll back under the unit. "I guess you can keep me company, hand me tools," he proposed, disappearing under the machine. Suddenly his voice dropped an octave, words echoed against metallic surfaces that made you freeze. "I know my girl is very good with my tools."

You squeaked at his sudden turn in demeanor, falling on your behind and scrambling away from him. "W-What?!"

Rocket rolled back out, propping up on an elbow, eyeing you with concern. "What, what'd I say?" he asked frantically. "What's up with you?"

"Y-You said-" you stammered, not even comfortable with repeating what you heard. "Y-You said...I'm g-good with your tools!"

He looked at you like you were the biggest moron he'd ever met. "Well, yeah?" he chastised. "You help me in my shop all the time, so I know you know which ones are which. You're good at knowing which ones to hand me." Your chest heaved as he once again returned to his position, reaching his hand out. His small fingers curled, a sign for you to hand something over. "Gimme that ratchet." Quickly, you placed it in his hand, before clicking open the socket set.

"What size socket?"

"Twelve millimeter." He answered, settling the tool on his stomach to use both hands for whatever he was doing. Scanning the set, you plucked out the shallow twelve millimeter piece and set it on his chest, waiting for him to grab it. He did and growled in dismay, giving it back.

"No, princess," he corrected, gasping through clenched teeth. "Need it deep."

"You...w-what?" you carefully asked, feeling incredibly dizzy and unable to discern truth from hallucination.

"I need the deep twelve millimeter, not the shallow one." Rocket scolded, giving a frustrated sigh as he listened to you scramble for the correct piece, profusely apologizing all the while. Finally, you found the right one, presenting it to him just in time for him to roll out from under the fixture again. "Okay, dollface," he titled his head, worried. "What's your deal?"

"Deal? There's no deal!" you played dumb, laughing nervously, hoping he'd just drop it. "I'm fine, really!"

You went rigid, watching him silently creep closer to you, unsure if this was real or not. Finally, he placed a paw against your cheek and whispered in close: "You're burnin' up, baby."

"Rocket, I don't feel good." you stated abruptly. "I-I think something's wrong with me."

"I'll say," he cooed, dragging his knuckles down the side of your face. "How about you let me change that, hmm?" The world around you began to blur, and all you could make out were his words. You understood that his hands were on you, but you couldn't say where; you couldn't feel it, you couldn't even see clearly. "Yeah, baby just lay down, lemme do all the work." He soothed seductively. "Let daddy take care of you, 'kay, (Y/N)?"

That last word, it was your name, right? He kept repeating it, like a broken record, and suddenly all the gruffness left his voice. You listened as intently as you could, hearing it morph from lustful to monotone, and then increasingly more worried- desperate even. "(Y/N)!" There it was again.

Slowly, as his voice became more clear, the cloudiness in your vision dissipated and your senses began to return. Your cheek burned against hot metal, and you could feel patting on your face. A figure hovered over you, close enough to breathe on you. "Goddamnit, (Y/N), wake up!"

"R-Rocket...?" you stuttered, recognizing the figure. "What's going on...?"

"Nevermind that," he hushed. "Lay back down," Suddenly, he turned away from you, yelling out the door, presumably to the oncoming footsteps stampeding down the hall. "In here!" Your eyelids began to get heavy as the world began to fall away again. The last thing you remember was being lifted into the air by a second, hulking figure, then nothing.

-----

You awoke in your bunk, arctic air breezing by your face. What had happened, how did you get here? Where was Rocket? Your fingers twitched, sore from lack of use and the tips of them caught the sensation of something foreign. Multiple fibers connected to one source, soft in mass but wirey when you singled one out. Letting your hand travel up the organism, you froze, realizing you'd answered one of your questions. Glancing down, you found Rocket, curled in a ball at your side. That was odd, you did share a room, but Rocket never slept in your bunk.

Your movements must have roused him as he stirred under your touch, slowly unfurling himself and stretching out. "You're up," he noted, smiling a bit. "You'll be happy to know the AC is fixed."

Now that you took notice of it, the room was cooler, cold even. "Wow," you yawned, smiling back sleepily. "How long was I out for?"

"About eight hours," he copied, yawning as a reaction to seeing you do the same. You halted a moment, confused.

"Wait, I thought you said it'd take you another day to fix it?" you rubbed sleep from your eye waiting for his explaination.

"Nothin' an all nighter couldn't fix." He laughed exhaustedly, curling back up into your side. You'd usually question his sudden cuddliness, but it made your bed that much cozier. "Honestly, your little heatstroke..." his voice softened a bit. "It scared me a little. I was worried about ya."

"Heatstroke..." you repeated. "That makes so much sense," At least now you had an explanation for all those hallucinations from earlier. Though you were glad to be well again, Rocket's attention was nice, even if it was all in your head. "That explains me hearing and seeing things that weren't there down in the boiler. Sorry for acting so weird.." you confessed sheepishly.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled cockily, eyes peacefully resting. "We'll definitely be having a lengthy, private conversation about all that after I catch up on some sleep." Your stomach dropped at that, imagining all the terrible outcomes that could result from said conversation. "And for the record, dollface, I do think you're very good at handling my tools, ya know," he smirked, nuzzling your ear. "When you follow directions."

Your stomach did flips as your head began to feel heavy again. "I-I must still be hallucinating...I swear I just heard you say-"

"Did I fuckin' stutter?"

#rocket raccoon smut #rocket smut #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg rocket #gotg x reader #gotg rocket x reader #rocket raccoon lemons #rocket raccoon x reader smut #rocket raccoon x you #rocket raccoon x y/n #marvel #marvel x reader

[euovennia]

the archer | könig

so sorry to keep you all waiting (especially the anon who requested this), i got a bit too invested and this ended up being just over 8k words...whoops. anyway, it's finally here and i'm excited for you all to read it! thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3 (also thank you for getting this blog to over 1,000 followers, that's insane!!! thank you so much!!!)

pairing: könig x fem!reader

warnings: angst, könig being a little toxic, brief mention of injuries, discussion about the insufferable behavior of dolphins

summary: the difficult journey of loving a man who doesn't think he's worthy of love (based on this request)

Combat, I’m ready for combat

I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?

‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

König rises from his makeshift bed on the floor with a sharp gasp as his left hand raises itself from his side to rest upon his heart that seemed to be beating too fast and too slow all at once. His eyes briefly fall onto the sleeping faces of his fellow comrades as he lets out a few shaky breaths in an attempt to calm himself down from the unfortunate dream he’d stirred awake from. After a few moments of half-assed breathing exercises and clenching and unclenching the hand that wasn’t resting upon his chest, he can almost feel his body become lighter as his panic slowly begins to fizzle out into something calmer. Even so, he can’t help but notice the small spike of dread that tugs at his heartstrings when the image of you settles into his mind. The feeling is illogical, that much he knows, but as his gaze drifts over to the door of the master bedroom in the safe house the team was currently occupying, he can’t seem to stop his mind from spiraling. Once ensuring his infamous black hood is properly secured over his face, he quietly rises to his feet before stalking off toward the door of the master bedroom and opening it. He gives the room a quick glance before fully stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. His eyes trail along the rundown walls of the room before eventually landing on your figure that’s sitting on the cushioned seats of the window nook as you peer into the darkness of the night, gun propped up by your side along with a small leather bound journal with the accompanying pen being expertly twirled around your nimble fingers. Not wanting to stare any longer in an effort to avoid coming across as creepy, he begins walking closer in your direction before stopping just a few feet shy of you.

You don’t spare him a glance as you begin to speak, “You’re up late.”

He shrugs, “Bad dream.”

You offer him a small hum before tearing your gaze away from the window and give the open spot beside you a few pats. He eyes you for a few moments before stepping forward and taking a seat beside you, body stiff and face expressionless. Not that you’d be able to tell the difference anyway.

You lean against the wall as you nudge his thigh with your boot causing the muscle to twitch. You pretend not to notice.

“What was your dream about?”

His lips settle into a small frown before responding, “It’s not important.”

He rips his gaze away from you in favor of staring at the floorboards and he misses the way you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“So you just like being in here with me then?”

Yes.

He shakes his head, “No. Just wanted to check on you, make sure you didn’t fall asleep.”

A huff of laughter escapes you, “That was one time–”

He interrupts you, “One time too many, I’m afraid.”

You raise your hands in defense before continuing, “Well…You’ve checked on me and now you know I’m not asleep. You’re free to leave now, König.”

He clenches his fists once more upon hearing his callsign fall from your lips. Surely you know what you do to him, right?

“I’d rather not.”

You quirk a brow up, “Why not?”

He keeps his gaze steady on the ground, “I’m not tired.”

Him not being tired is a perfectly reasonable thing to say. At least, it would’ve been if he hadn't let a massive yawn slip past his lips the moment he told the small fib.

“Not tired, hm?”

He can’t help but feel thankful for the hood that’s currently draped over his head, less opportunity for you to see the blush that dusts across his face as he tries to ignore the way your eyes pierce into him.

Upon receiving no response you sit up straighter, “Is this about your dream?”

The way he seems to close in on himself tells you everything. Your lips pull into a small frown as you fidget with your hands, willing yourself to say something.

“I’m afraid of dolphins,” You blurt out.

Your expression morphs into one of mild embarrassment as his eyes snap over to you, a curious glint shining back at you.

It’s hard to miss the incredulity in his tone as he speaks, “What?”

You firmly plant your hands against your knees as you continue, “Dolphins scare me.”

A small smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “Wait till you hear about sharks.”

“I’m actually not afraid of sharks.”

His eyes widened in surprise, “Really? How’d you manage that?”

You let out a small exhale, “I’ve done a fair bit of research into sharks and dolphins over the years, and I’ve found that dolphins are infinitely more terrifying than sharks.”

He straightens out his back, intrigued as he motions for you to continue with a wave of his hand.

“Dolphins are really horny–”

He can’t hold back the small bout of laughter that falls from his lips, “That’s why you’re scared of them?”

You frantically shake your head as you try to fight back a smile, “No it’s not ‘cause of that, you didn’t let me finish!”

“Well then you better hurry or else I’m gonna think you’re scared of dolphins cause they like sex.”

You ignore the heat that spreads through your cheeks as you continue, “It’s their horniness that makes them scary. Male dolphins have a high sex drive, and sometimes it makes them a bit…aggressive in their approach for sex.”

König nods his head in understanding at your words before you continue speaking, “They’ve been known to murder their own offspring so they can immediately be ready for another pregnancy. Hell, sometimes they’ll even go around murdering other aquatic animals and their babies just for fun!”

König’s eyes widen at your statement, “Really?”

You nod, “Yes! Sometimes they get so bored that they’ll start going around killing other animals just to have some fun. They always make it so brutal too.”

He cringes, “Didn’t think they did all that. I always thought they were cute.”

You scrunch your nose in distaste, “Absolutely not. Besides, I’m not alone in my fear of dolphins. Sharks are actually quite scared of them too. They’ve even been known to check their surroundings to make sure there aren’t any dolphins around before they sleep because dolphins will actually hunt them if food’s been scarce.”

König leans against the wall behind him, “That’s heavy.”

“It is, isn’t it? Dolphins are jerks.”

He nods in agreement, “Dolphins are jerks.”

A comfortable silence pervades the room as you take a few moments to peer out through the window as his mind steadily falls back into the throes of his all too familiar dream. A grimace comes to rest upon his face as his mind begins to wander off from the anti-dolphin rhetoric newly placed in his head by you in favor of staring at his hands, the same hands that have delivered death to dozens of enemy soldiers who were up to no good.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he continues to stare down at his hands, but after a few moments, he can’t help but notice the heaviness that begins to weigh down on his chest.

They were all bad people up to no good…right?

He lets out an exasperated sigh causing you to turn your attention back on the large man beside you.

“What’s on your mind, König?”

He nearly cries in frustration. How could he resist telling you anything when you call his name so sweetly? He plants his hands on his thighs as he keeps his gaze steady on the floor.

“Do you think we’re good people?”

Your brows scrunch together in confusion as your head tilts to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean–”

He lets out a small sigh as he attempts to gather his thoughts together.

“–With the things we do…Our job. Do you think we’re good people?”

The confusion on your face smoothes out.

“I think so. We’re helping the world, aren’t we?”

König breaks his focus from the floor to look up at you.

“Is it really that simple though? Are we really able to write off all the horrible things we’ve done to other people just because we help another group of people? Do we have that authority?”

As his small line of questioning comes to a close, your eyes settle on your rifle that’s pressed up against the wall beside you. You let out a small breath of air as you start to speak.

“Well, when you put it like that, maybe we aren't such good people.”

His gaze falters.

“But I don’t think we’re bad people either.”

The question tumbles from his lips before he can do anything to stop it, “Do you think I’m a good person?”

He watches as your eyes glaze over with something he’s not quite able to distinguish, something soft.

“I think you’re a good person,” You quietly admit before turning the question back on him, “Do you think you’re a good person?”

He fights off the urge to gnaw on his bottom lip.

“I try to be.”

You offer him a gentle smile, “Then that’s all that matters.”

He seems to think about your words for a few moments before giving you a slow nod.

“That’s all that matters,” He affirms.

You reach over and grab onto his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away and turning your focus back onto the window. He looks down at that same hand, a familiar warmth he found could only be provided by you as he tries to slow the way his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He takes in a few deep breaths before looking back up at you and admiring the way the moonlight seems to caress your features. He presses his lips together in a thin line as he recalls the countless speeches he’d scrawled on random pieces of paper neatly tucked away in his desk drawer at his apartment. With you vigilantly keeping watch beside him, he can’t help but wonder if one day he’ll ever let you read them.

Easy they come, easy they go

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold onto you

“Please say something,” You practically beg as you stare up at König who seems to have frozen in place.

Despite the overwhelming urge he has to lift the hood up off his face, place his large hands on your cheeks, and pull you toward him in a loving kiss, he finds that he can’t bring himself to do such a thing.

Everything just feels so wrong. The once soft and warm glow from the lights above the two of you fill his very being dread as they seem to cast a daunting shadow over your figure he swears hadn’t previously been there. The bright white walls of the building seem to fade into a dismal shade of grey as his eyes catch onto the multiple cracks and stains that litter them; had the walls always looked this miserable? He can practically feel his skin go up in flames as he becomes all too aware of the clothes he’s wearing. He had dressed himself in some of his most comfortable clothes, so why did they suddenly feel so tight and suffocating as they clung to his body?

And you.

When did your soft and loving eyes turn into two cesspools of unbridled fear and anxiety? Where have your kind eyes gone? Why are you looking at him like that? Is it because he hasn’t said anything since you’d pulled him aside and put all your cards on the table? Is it because you told him you had fallen in love with him and he didn’t even have the decency to utter a single word in response? Do you hate him for it?

With every second that ticks by, he can feel his composure slipping away as he feels your stare melt into him. It’s become far too much to handle far too quickly. He needs to get away. Get away from the walls that he can just feel closing in on him. Get away from the floor that he practically begs to swallow him whole. Get away from the one who haphazardly ripped his carefully crafted walls down and forced him to feel so exposed and turn into such a pitiful disaster.

He needs to get away from you.

And so without even bothering to spare you a glance, he quickly maneuvers around your body and walks away from the conversation in hopes of finding refuge somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Anywhere away from you.

He doesn’t.

I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

The past two weeks had been nothing short of miserable, courtesy of König. Ever since he’d left you stranded in that godforsaken hallway, you’d made it your personal mission to track him down in even the most bizarre places around base. In fact, you can distinctly remember how he’d nearly fallen off the roof of a building he’d climbed on top of after you came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with no warning. Even after you’d grabbed onto his arm and helped him regain his footing, he merely ripped his arm away from you before climbing back down the building, but not before glaring down at you with his eyes narrowed in a look of contempt. It would’ve hurt more if you hadn’t already become used to it.

Despite his unbothered exterior that only became bothered when you were around, he wasn’t faring any better. If he wasn’t forced into seeing the look of anguish that flooded your irises every time he turned away from you, he was forced to see it in his memory as he recalled the way he selfishly left you to pick up the pieces of the heart he shattered when he made the decision to leave you all alone in that hallway. The same hallway that he now has to practically run through in a feeble attempt to fend off the sinking feeling that festers deep within his very being.

By no means was he proud of the way he was treating you, he despised it. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to sweep you up into his arms and guard you with his life but he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing. No, not with the line of work the two of you had found yourselves in. Not when you were forced to tread the line of death every couple of weeks to fulfill a mission that, ultimately, would be forgotten about in just a few months time, if even that.

He’d seen the strain put on relationships as a result of the job in the form of the various failed romances his fellow soldiers had pursued. Lack of communication, not living up to your partner’s expectations, and the all too common issue of infidelity. While each was unfortunate, there was one thing that he himself could barely wrap his head around; the death of your significant other. He played witness to the way the surviving half of the relationship always seemed to crumble in on themselves as the dreaded news fell onto them far too many times. He knew it was a special kind of pain, one he doubted he’d ever recover from if it was him on the receiving end of such a tumultuous life event. He knew it was silly in a way. How can one be a soldier and not be comfortable with death? He’s not quite sure himself, but he simply chooses to ignore it. The day he feels comfortable with death is the day he officially loses himself.

The thought almost makes him chuckle.

Lose myself, he thinks, Haven’t I done that already?

He lays on his back as he stares up at the ceiling, hood pulled off his head and discarded on the small end table beside his bed. He remains silent as his mind thinks back to the conversation you had with him months ago.

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

“I think you’re a good person…Do you think you’re a good person?”

“I try to be.”

The memory is almost enough to make him start ripping his hair out with his bare hands. You saw him struggling with himself, with his morality, and you, perhaps one of the kindest souls he’s ever come to know, reached out and placated him with your loving gaze and gentle reassurance. You offered him a guiding light of hope in his moment of darkness. And how had he repaid you? By becoming the cold and callous monster he had always thought himself to be? By taking all of his worst fears and projecting them onto you? How can you claim him as a good person when it seems he’s indifferent to the way his recent mean streak affects you so deeply? He can’t help but wonder what you think of him now. Do you resent him for treating you so poorly? Do you wish you could take back your previous judgment of him? The thought of you regretting the words that once brought him great comfort is almost too much to bear, but he knows he can’t blame you if you do.

His bout of self-loathing is broken by the abrupt sound of his door slamming open. He quickly sits up in his bed, eyes wide with alarm and body stiff with anxiety. He can feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest before his eyes land on you standing in his doorway, jaw slack and face painted with nerves. He’s almost tempted to ask why you’re staring at him that way until he feels the slightest breeze brush against his face, his bare face that you’re now gawking at. He tears his eyes away from your frozen figure before landing on the hood sitting on his bedside table, taunting him.

“König…I’m so s–”

The meek sound of your voice pushes him over the edge and before he can stop himself he abruptly stands up from his place on the bed before staring down at you with a fire in his eyes.

“Get. Out,” He practically seethes.

You back up from him by a few inches as you try not to stumble over your next words, “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t–”

Your weak attempt at explaining yourself is cut off by his cruel tone, one you’d quickly realized was specially reserved for those he didn’t trust; enemies.

“What don’t you understand? I don’t want you here, you’re not welcome.”

You try your best to not let his words affect you so much, but what else are you supposed to do when the man you love doesn’t want you?

“König please, no. I just,” You take in a shaky breath as you blink away the small line of tears that well up in your eyes, “I just wanted to talk. To hear your voice. I miss you.”

A part of you expects him to soften up, to look down at you and wrap his arms around you as he whispers an endless stream of apologies in your ear. What he does instead nearly crushes you.

“I don’t care.”

It’s as if the Earth stops spinning on its axis as his words sink in. This time you don’t bother to blink away the tears that blur your vision, you let them cascade down your cheeks. It’s embarrassing. You can’t help but feel like a fool. How could you ever expect someone as wonderful as him to love someone like you? The pain in your chest is too much. You find you can’t bring yourself to spare him another glance as you turn around on your heel and hurry out of his room, one hand firmly placed on your chest as if to stop the hurt that consumes you while your other hand wipes away the tears that are freely falling down your face. You don’t bother stopping when the concern of your fellow teammates falls onto your ears. It hurts too much.

With his eyes locked on the empty space in his doorway you occupied just a few moments ago, he takes a few steps forward and shuts the door before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He stares numbly at the wooden floorboards pressed against his socked feet before he catches a glimpse of his hood out the corner of his eye. He reaches forward and grabs onto it, mindlessly toying with the edges of the fabric.

He had finally shown you the monster.

Dark side, I search for your dark side

But what if I’m all right, right, right, right here?

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face

Then hate my reflection for years and years

After the last disastrous encounter you had with König, you quickly decided it was best for you to keep your distance. The days of you actively seeking him out in hopes of smoothing things over were long gone and you instead filled up your newfound free time by busying yourself with various tasks around base all the while, unbeknownst to you, König had his eyes locked onto you. Granted, it’s not something he’s proud of. How could he be after he practically banished you from all aspects of his life? It wasn’t his place. Even so, he couldn’t help the way his eyes subconsciously seemed to seek out your presence in every room he stepped in. A part of him told him it was because he wanted to know which area of the room to avoid, but a bigger part of him knew it was because he missed you.

Hypocritical bastard, he chastises himself, You brought this on yourself.

And despite knowing that to be fact, he still can’t seem to rip his eyes away from you. It’s a habit that brings him both shame and comfort. Shame because it’s a harsh reminder of the one he deprived himself of, but comfort in knowing you were still kind and gracious as ever despite his insensitive behavior. It’s a blessing and a curse for it was the kindness you extended to him with no hesitation that first made his heart flutter. Your good-hearted nature and willingness to put in the time and effort to become his friend is something he holds very near and dear to his heart, it was one of the many reasons he fell so hopelessly in love with you. The way your eyes would sparkle as you’d wait for him to gather his thoughts, not once showing an ounce of annoyance or even a glimmer of impatience as you hung onto every word and syllable that fell from his mouth, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful that someone was so determined, so willing to become his friend that they’d suffer through the short and sometimes frequent bouts of silence as he tried to verbalize all his thoughts and opinions. It didn’t help that you were so gorgeous.

But now as he sits alone in the corner of the mess hall, tray filled with perhaps some of the most unappetizing food available on the planet, he fears that it was all for nothing. All the energy you’d spent solely on trying to understand him, now worthless as you purposefully avoid his gaze despite the goosebumps that rise along your skin. He tells himself it’s for the better, that eventually, you’d leave him. Whether it be by the unforgiving hands of war or the desire to go out and find someone new, someone better. The thought of you moving on from him like that hurt more than he’d ever care to admit.

But seeing the way you welcome a few other soldiers to your table with your signature grin, he couldn’t fight off the small smile that tugged at the edge of his lips. He watches as you fall into easy conversation with the unfamiliar men and women, each of their faces sporting an effortless smile as you do seemingly everything in your power to make them as comfortable as possible around you. You’ve always been sweet like that.

And despite the way his heart warms seeing you fall back into your natural habits, a small stab of pain makes itself apparent in his chest as he comes to the stark realization that you’re too good for him, too pure. The sudden awareness of this is almost enough to make him sick to his stomach. How can he allow himself to taint such a bright, shining light in favor of lighting up his own dark and lonely path? Truth is, he couldn’t. Not when it was you. If anything, he’d rather you ignore his looming presence for all eternity if it meant you got to remain bright and shiny. He could brave the torrential storm that was his mind on his own, as long as you were safe and happy.

With this in mind, he picks up his half eaten tray of food and dumps it in the trash bins before walking toward the exit of the mess hall. He allows himself one last glance of your smiling face as you animatedly talk about god knows what. He’d hate himself for this later when he’s alone and overthinking in the comfort of his own room, but for now, he lets your bright smile engrave itself into his memory.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is one fire, invisible smoke

And all of my heroes die all alone

Help me hold onto you

It wasn’t uncommon for members of the team to be hand-picked for a mission, especially if the mission presented itself to be relatively simple. So when he heard just over a week ago that you departed base along with a few other soldiers he’d seen around base, he didn’t really give it much thought. Of course there was a small pool of worry that bubbled up in his stomach, but by this point he’d worked with you on the field so much that there wasn’t a shred of doubt in terms of your capability to get the mission completed. Rarely was there ever a time where you came back from a mission with anything more than a couple bumps and bruises, it was standard.

But the moment he walked into the common room only to be met with the somber expressions of his teammates one afternoon, he knew something had gone wrong. He anxiously listened as one of the men occupying the room explained that the mission you and a few others had gone on to retrieve valuable intel about a newly formed terrorist group had actually turned out to be a ruse to get you in their line of fire so they could eliminate you. It felt as if the world had come crashing down so as soon as he was made aware of what hospital you were being treated at, he didn’t hesitate to turn around and make his way over to you as quickly as possible.

As if the pure horror of the situation wasn’t bad enough already, the ache that spread throughout his body was only amplified when he finally arrived at the hospital just to be told you were currently in surgery. As much as he wanted to go to the surgical floor and rip apart every room until he found you, he forced himself to stay in check before resigning himself to a chair that was far too small for him to get comfortable in. He didn’t mind, however, he’d happily sit on a pile of nails if it meant getting the chance to see you once more.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the chair in the stuffy waiting room looking desperate and forlorn, all he seemed to be able to focus on at the moment was the nervous twitch of his hands every few minutes. A few of the other members from the team have since joined him in the waiting room, each busying themselves by tapping and swiping away at their phones. He didn’t think to bring his, he was too busy worrying about you.

After what felt like an unreasonably long time, König’s attention broke at the sound of your last name being called out. He quickly shot up without his chair and made his way over to the surgeon who was still clad in their scrubs with a disposable mask hung around their neck.

“Her injuries were rather significant so it was touch and go for a while, but she managed to pull through,” The man announced with a reassuring smile.

König didn’t even have to think about his reply, “So what happens now?”

The doctor glanced down at his watch before responding, “She’s due to wake up in a few minutes. She’s still coming down from the anesthesia so she’ll be a bit out of it, but that shouldn’t last longer than an hour, maybe even a bit less than that. A nurse will come out shortly and she’ll be able to take you to see her.”

He nods, “Thank you.”

The surgeon offers him a small smile before walking away leaving König to bask in his own thoughts. All of the hurt, anger, and dread that made itself at home in the depths of his being seemed to melt away at the prospect of him soon being able to see you, alive and breathing. The pure relief that washed over him was almost enough to forget about his piss poor treatment of you.

He’s startled by a gentle tap on his shoulder. He looks in the direction of where the timid touch had come from and he comes face to face with a woman dressed in dark purple scrubs and a caring smile on her face.

“Are you ready to see her?”

He simply nods.

The walk to your room is quiet as it is short. It makes him feel uneasy. Even in your loopy state, what would your reaction be to seeing him? Would you be happy, or would you rightfully scorn him into oblivion with a sharp glare and words dipped in poison? He couldn’t say, and it shook him to his core.

He offers the polite nurse a small nod of his head before stepping into the harshly lit room, his mind going blank as soon as he lays his eyes on you. His eyes roam over your body. From the bruises that blossom across your soft skin, the cuts that falsely state their claim over your body, the superficial burn markings that run up and down your arms, all the way to the wad of gauze firmly taped to your chest underneath your hospital gown. He can’t help but recall the words of the soldiers who sat patiently beside him in the waiting room.

“Just a couple more inches to the left and the bullet woulda nicked her heart.”

The thought of it makes him cringe. He grabs onto a chair and gingerly pulls it up to your bedside before taking a seat. His eyes slowly rake up your body as he takes in your various injuries before his gaze settles on your face. In spite of the cuts and bruises present, he can’t help but the way his heart all but flutters. He studies the curves of your face, a familiar warmth that only you could bestow upon him spreading to every corner of his body. He brings a careful hand up to the slope of your jaw and he allows his fingers to gently trail along the soft skin before eventually stopping just beneath the delicate skin of your lips. His fingers gently caress the outer corner of your lips before quickly yanking them back when you begin to stir, a soft groan of pain voiced into the air. He watches with great interest as your eyes begin to flutter open before settling onto him.

You stare at him for a moment almost in disbelief before calling out to him, “König?”

His hand quickly finds its place in yours, “I’m here.”

Your hand grips his tighter as your mind remains hazy, “Will you stay?”

The hand that wasn’t latched in yours finds its way back up to your face as he rests it carefully across your cheek, “Just until you fall asleep again, maus.”

You can’t find it in yourself to dissect his words as you offer him a simple smile. A smile that refuses to leave his mind even as he disconnects himself from you once more after you’ve fallen asleep. A smile he’ll hold onto until the end of time.

‘Cause they see right through me

They see right through me

They see right through

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

I see right through me

Despite it only being your second day back on base after spending the previous five days cooped up in your overly sterile hospital room, the team received an urgent mission, a mission that required the assistance of nearly everyone on the team. Word of this mission spread through the team like wildfire before eventually reaching you. While you were a bit disheartened that the friends who had become more like family to you weren’t able to be around for your recovery, you didn’t mind. The job comes first and you were fine with it.

Your commanding officer however, wasn’t. It was bad enough that you were out of commission due to his misjudgement of a mission, but he felt it was even worse to leave you stranded when you needed them most. As a result, he had gone up to König with the special request of having him stay back on base to help take care of you. He didn’t have it in his heart to say no.

So here you were, sitting in an awkward silence with König over some takeout he’d gotten you both for dinner. He had his hood pulled up just enough to reveal his mouth so he could eat. When you caught sight of this, you nearly opened your mouth to suggest he take it off completely, but your voice died in your throat as soon as you remembered what happened the last time you saw him without his black hood. Disheartened by the memory, you pack up the last bit of food and push it away from you. He looks up at you with an inquisitive stare that makes you feel smaller than normal.

You clear your throat, “I’m going to change my bandages.”

He eyes you down for a few moments longer before nodding his head. You can barely hold back a sigh of relief the moment his piercing gaze removes itself from your body and instead focuses itself on his food. Pulling yourself up from your seat, you begin making your way over to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door behind you before pulling out the bag filled with all of the ointments, gauze, and bandages you’d received from your stay at the hospital. You worked diligently as your hands worked on providing much needed aid to the various wounds scattered around your body. After dropping the roll of gauze too many times to count and contorting your body to reach wounds that were particularly tricky to reach, you felt yourself beam with contentment as you found you were nearly done. There was only one more wound to dress up. Unfortunately, it was on your back. Already knowing that you wouldn’t be able to reach it on your own, you swallowed your pride as you reached for the doorknob and slowly pulled it open.

Praying he was still within hearing range, you called out, “König?”

The silence that spread through the room was thick with unease as you waited for a response in the form of something, anything. Thankfully it came in the form of König’s boots creaking against the wooden flooring of the building before he eventually reached you, his head tilted to the side in a questioning manner.

“I need help changing my bandage,” You sucked in a sharp breath, “It’s on my back, I can’t reach it.”

He eyes you for a few moments longer before nodding and you take a step back as you allow him to push open the door of the bathroom. You face your body toward the mirror and watch in the reflection as his hands seem to twitch the moment he realized he’d have to pull your shirt up.

He swallows, “May I?”

You try to fend off the burning sensation that begins to build in your cheeks, “Please.”

You hear him take in a small, shaky breath before his fingers grab onto the thin fabric of your t-shirt before he lifts it up, just enough to reveal the old bandage currently covering your wound. You feel his fingers on the bare skin of your lower back as he reaches forward and begins to delicately peel off the gauze taped to your back. You try your best to not think about having his hands roam all over your body. It doesn’t work. You can feel your heart rate pick up as he reaches an arm around your waist to grab onto an antiseptic wipe.

You look down at his hand as he holds it out to you, “Can you open it?”

You nod as you raise your hand to take the packet from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s, “Sure.”

You make quick work of ripping the packet open with your hands before looking up into the mirror, your heart nearly coming to a full stop as you see him with his gaze already fixated on you.

You can’t stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, “Do you hate me?”

He reaches forward and grabs the packet from your fingers, his hand resting over yours for a moment longer than necessary before pulling it away from you completely. For a moment you fear he won’t reply, but his response comes in the form of five soft spoken words.

“I could never hate you.”

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men

Couldn’t put me together again

‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you

After two weeks, the team finally arrived back from their mission. It was a joyous occasion being able to see the faces of your little family again, but you had quickly come to notice that the room was short of one member.

König.

It didn’t come to you as a huge surprise. You figured that once the team came back he wouldn’t hesitate to start ignoring you again, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And as much as you wanted to ignore the situation entirely, you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. König, your once dear and soft-spoken friend, had turned into someone else entirely in the blink of an eye. The quiet, late night conversations you sought each other out for completely meaningless as he proudly voiced out the disgust he had for you. Your knowledge of all his likes and dislikes, the silly inside jokes you shared, as well as his deepest secrets now laid stagnant in your mind never to be utilized again. And for what? Because he couldn’t bear the thought of you anymore? Because he didn’t want to see you? It made you fall into a pit of anger and self-pity all at once and you needed answers. Maybe that’s why you’re standing outside his door at two am, fist balled up as you incessantly knock at his door.

You air out a small sigh of annoyance, “I can see the light from your lamp under the door. Open up.”

Ready to start rapping your knuckles against the wooden door once more, you begin to raise your fist but stop when you can hear some rustling on the other side of the door. You lower your fist to your side and wait with a stoic expression on your face before you can hear the click of the lock being undone. The door slowly opens and you’re soon met with the hooded figure of König. You don’t give him a chance to speak before your hands are firmly placed against his abdomen and you begin to push him back much to his bewilderment. Satisfied with his new placement in the room, you quickly lean back and lock the door before turning to face him with a heated glare with your arms crossed over your chest. Once his surprise has set aside he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch.

“What did I do wrong?”

He already knows what you’re referring to by those five simple words, but he can’t bring himself to talk about it. He refuses to. Ready to try and disarm you with carefully picked words, he takes a few steps toward you and reaches a timid hand out to you. Unfortunately for him, you swat it away.

“No, you don’t get to touch me. Not when you’ve treated me as badly as you have the past few weeks.”

He feels his heart sink to his stomach, but still decides to try and feign confusion.

“What do you–”

Your groan of frustration is enough to make him stop his sentence midway.

You heave in a sigh as you look up at him, “Don’t do that.”

He stares down at you in confusion.

“That thing you do. The one where you act like you don’t know what the other person’s talking about so you can save yourself from having an uncomfortable conversation. I know that’s what you’re doing and I need you to stop.”

He should’ve known he wouldn’t have been able to slip something as juvenile as that past you.

“Okay,” He concedes, “Okay.”

You release a sigh of relief at his willingness to cooperate, hopefully this would end better than you originally planned.

“Look, I know I disgust you, and that’s fine. I already know there’s–”

König steps forward, “You don’t disgust me.”

You halt all your movements as you look up at him, “What?”

“I said you don’t disgust me.”

You scoff, “What, so you just go around treating all your friends like shit then? Is that it?”

Even with the hood, it doesn’t take much to know that he’s frowning.

“I didn’t–”

You can feel yourself inching closer toward the edge as you point an accusing finger up at him, “Don’t say you didn’t mean it. Don’t you fucking dare.”

He feels the words die out in his throat as the sinking feeling in his stomach worsens.

You resign your hand to rest by your side as you speak, “You know, it’s one thing to feel awkward and leave a conversation because you don’t know what to say, but it’s a whole other thing to leave the conversation and then start treating that person like a pile of shit afterwards.”

He remains quiet so you take that as your cue to continue.

“I knew going into it that telling you how I felt might cause some problems, but I didn’t think you’d hate me for it. For god's sake, König, if you really didn’t feel the same you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to walk away and stop being my friend,” You let out a shaky breath, “Is it really so bad to be loved by me? Is the idea of it so disgusting that you can’t handle being around me anymore? Is that it? Because if it is, you should’ve let me know a long time ago rather than let me roam around following you like an idiot,” Your hands begin to shake as you avert your gaze away from him, “God I…I wish you just told me you didn’t love me back.”

As the last few words of your overdue rant fall from your lips, he takes a closer look at your face and he finds he almost regrets doing so. The quiver of your lip accompanied by the tears that threaten to spill over breaks his heart. He briefly wonders if this is what you felt like the entire time.

He gulps before taking a few hesitant steps toward your distraught figure. Once close enough, he reaches his arms out and gently places them on your shoulders for a few moments before slowly bringing you closer to his body and wrapping you up in a hug. Throwing all caution to the wind, you merely cling onto him and bury your face in his chest as the tears finally spill over. He holds you tenderly, his hands running up and down the curve of your back in an attempt to soothe you. You remain in his arms for more than a few minutes before eventually pulling back with his arms still wrapped tightly around you. You bring a careful hand up to his head, your fingers ghosting the edge of his hood.

“Your face…I need to see your face,” You all but plead.

Who is he to deny you of him any longer?

He gives you a small nod before bending down a bit allowing you to get a better grip on the black cloth. Slowly, you begin to peel it away from his face and the moment your eyes take him in for all that he is, you’re grateful that he’s holding onto as tight as he is. You don’t even realize as the fabric slips from your hands and falls to the floor, far too enamored by the freckles that dot his pale face and the wisps of hair that frame his face. You slowly reach up and rest a hand on his cheek as your eyes slowly roam across his face, taking in every detail of him.

“You’re gorgeous,” You whisper.

You feel honored to stand witness to the way his face grows hot under your hand as a prominent blush works its way onto his cheeks. He stares down at you, lips pulled into a small frown before he speaks in a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry, maus.”

You can’t help but ask, “Why’d you do it?”

He allows a hand to drop from your waist and move up to yours, his first and middle finger finding its place on your pulse.

“I can’t love you,” He pulls you closer to him, “Just to end up losing you. I don’t think I’d ever recover.”

Your hand slowly falls from his cheek in favor of trailing your fingers along his jaw, “You wouldn’t lose me.”

“I lose everyone eventually.”

Your fingers make their way to the outer line of his lips, “I’m scared of losing you too, König, but the idea of losing you knowing I never got the chance to love you scares me even more.”

His breath hitches, “You deserve better.”

You shake your head, “I deserve you. I want you.”

His body freezes, he can barely think.

You move your fingers away from his lips in favor of wrapping them up in his hair as you speak once more, “I want you to want me.”

He gulps, “I’ve always wanted you.”

“Then show me.”

Upon receiving your reassurance, he surges forward and connects his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.

I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

Who could stay?

Who could stay?

Who could stay?

You could stay

You could stay

taglist: @merakiaes @kaauyyq2

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 imagine #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig #könig x y/n #konig x reader #konig #not sure what other tags to add tbh #angsty #idk #:)

[espeon-fireheart]

꧁༺ 𝓟𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓭/ 𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ༻꧂

Why? Because why not? I know we all need it! It wasn't requested but I know you need it! No shame in it. I need it too. Why do you think I'm making it?

TW: This IS smut. I am saying this now! I don't suggest this for Minors or people who feel uncomfortable with it. Just the thirsty babes. You know who you are.

Requests are Open!

Oh boy! I cannot tell you how much this man cares about you. As one of the VERY few people he can say makes him feel, you are so precious to him. Which means, he wants to learn about everything that makes you feel good. Where you like to be touched, where your favourite places are, what position, everything.

And he'll never get bored of you. Nothing could ever make him feel as happy and eager as you do. So when you are insecure of your body, or nervous of being dull with him. Good ol' Henry would just remind you of who you are.

When he does so, he'd find any surface to pin you too, and press you with gentle yet dominating kisses till you were whimpering and begging for him.

Oh those whimpers! Your voice would drive him to madness. It was bad enough that you pulled his heartstrings with every compliment or taunt you throw his way. But your whimpers are enough to make him go absolutely feral.

Henry is one of those guys that if he'd hears you beg for more, he'd proceed to stuff you with his cock till you couldn't take any more. If you were in the right situation, he'd make you scream and cry for him just for his own delight.

But sadly, he'd have to be smart. Seeing as the labs had high security, simply ploughing into you with you screaming wasn't the best idea. So instead, you both got creative. Some nights, he'd flip you on your belly with your ass up so you could moan into your pillow, Other nights, you'd have his hand over your mouth. But mostly you'd have something like his tie or your underwear in your mouth.

He can be a greedy man at times, taking his own pleasures out on you while he would fuck you silly. Like for example, pulling you away to a closet just to see your pretty lips around his cock. And holding you close with you panting in his ear while he leaves secret hickeys on your chest for no one to find.

To him, hickeys are beautiful blooms on the skin. Little bruises that he just adored on your skin. He adores them because he knows that he gave them to you. He proved that you're his. And his alone.

When he gets the change to be alone with you, Henry can either be romantic and sweet, or he can be rough and possessive. But then sometimes, he can be both! Yes! In his own twisted way, he can be moaning and groaning in your ear, but also make time to kiss your shoulders and your face while your legs are trembling and your both just making a mess.

If he feels like someone could take you from him, he'd have you dripping with his seed and well reminded of his love for you once he gets his hands on you again.

Speaking of having you dripping! I think we can all agree that this man has even just a little bit of a breeding kink. And I say this for two reasons; He loves to just leave his seed inside of you and lay with you in his arms. And secondly, I think he has just a bit of a fantasy of having a family with you once he gets out of here. But that's a story for another time.

I believe spanking would be another little guilty pleasure of his. His thin fingers kneading your flesh before and after he leaves a beautiful red mark. It's the same with the hickeys, only less of a lasting mark.

One of his favourite expressions you make, in his opinion, would be right when you're on the edge of your orgasm. Letting your eyes roll back with tears staining your cheeks, it's even better when his hand gently wraps around your throat.

"You're perfection..." He always reminds you, when you're right there, on that edge of bliss. He'd kiss your exposed throat and hum against the skin with a charming smile. Not slowing down his pace, instead, he'd just hover over you with his hips colliding into yours while his blue eyes just watch your face as bliss flowed through you.

He's proud of himself. Proud that he is the only one that gets to see you in this way. He never wants it to change. He just wants to love you like this forever. And he will.

#001 stranger things #henry creel #001 x y/n #st 001 #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #Henry Creel x reader headcanons #peter ballard #Peter Ballard x Reader #henry creel smut #peter ballard smut #Peter Ballard x reader headcanons

[rubberduckrobin]

Section 2: To fall for someone - Shane x M! Reader

Section 1 link (tumblr)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50214880

Part 4: A part of me wants a part of you.

Stacking shelves at Joja Mart. As usual. 

Watching the clock over my shoulder, ticking for worthless time. As usual.

What’s not usual is the new guy. And what’s even more unusual is that ever since I told him to go away…he has.

Not even occasional side glances. Not one breath in my direction. I told him my wish and he respected it.

I kind of regret it.

I regret it.

It’s weird. He’s being weird and I don’t like it. 

I could fix things, sure, but how? And why should i? Only because of guilt? Or is there something more to it that I haven’t noticed yet…

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“I thought you hated me! I thought…you found me weird. And hated me like everyone else.”

Back at the saloon and as drinks are spilled, truths are too. 

Things are getting heated.

“I..don’t. That’s why…” I stumble and hitch on my breath, heart pounding from the weight of tonight's drinks. 

Before I can say anymore, a sudden exhaustion holds me hostage against the table in front of me. 

Muffled disruption rings in my ears as I feel my dead weight being hauled upwards. A heaving sickness swells in my stomach as I’m carried away.

My mind once again, alone, I fall into a daze. A murky, empty daze.

Am I dying?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“He’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Are you certain, Miss Marnie? I can stay and help out for a bit.”

“Well…since he’s been out for a while and looks like he isn’t gonna recover for quite some time…sorry to ask you this, but can you help out on the farm? If you have time, that is.”

“Of course. I am a farmer, after all.” I can practically hear the smile in his voice, despite only hearing half of what they are saying. 

I have one ear open, the other concealed by my duvet. 

It smells fresh. It smells new. 

Moonlight is now sunlight. My clothes are warm. 

I’m not dead. I don’t know how I feel, but I'm not dead.

My door creaks open. I can’t muster the strength to tell whoever it is to get out, so I pretend to sleep. 

I don’t care who it is. 

I don’t care…

“Shane…”

Marnie?

“I’ve brought you some fresh eggs for breakfast…”

I can’t lie, not even to myself; I'm hungry and my stomach is desperate for energy.

I turn slowly. 

Behind Marnie, is the figure of someone I’ve come to recognise all too well. 

(R/N.)

I know him, despite not knowing much about him. I know he’s considerate, I know he carried me here, and I know he plans to stay to do my farm work for me. 

I want to know more. 

“Here you go. Fresh eggs.” 

Marnie leaves after placing them on the bedside table, but (R/N) stays. 

He stays. He doesn’t know me well but he stays. I wouldn’t, if i saw someone as pathetic as me-

“Hey. You doin’ alright there?”

“Mm…”

“Alright, alright. I just came to say…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,”

I turn to face the wall, to hide my shame, and also the tears forming in the ducts of my eyes. Despite not knowing the difference between not crying and crying, I can still tell when it’s going to refresh my old tears. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing. It’s my fault.”

“I’m sorry because I shouted at you. I ranted and took it out on you, when you clearly were having a tough time too.”

“Whatever.”

“You are the one who has nothing to be sorry for, remember that… If you need anything, I’ll be helping out on your and Marnie’s farm. See ya.” He turns “Oh. And…I really do hope you feel better soon.”

And he’s gone.

 But with him, he tugs my heartstrings.

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Part 5: I’m beginning to realise how serious this thing is: love. 

A few hours that feel like years, and a few breaths in, I’m now awake. 

Not sleeping, not fine. But awake and not sick.

I need to see how (R/N) is doing.

A steady walk to the farm, it’s not too far from the barnhouse I stay in. 

Didn’t R/N mention he was a farmer…? I don’t remember there being a new farmer in Pelican Bay…

Then I see him. A silhouette of a farmer's glory. A lengthy shovel in one hand, the other wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

For some reason, my heart beats a little bit more than usual. 

I trudge over the fields and  make my way over to him.

“Oh! Hey Shane…”

Ouch. Awkward.

“Hey. I…wanted to…thank you.” I start.

“Huh? For what?”

“For helping me…you know. When I fainted? And…for taking my job on the farm.”

As though by instinct, I take the shovel from him and distract myself by completing my work, which he was doing for me. I shovel as he speaks 

“Just helping out a friend.”

I pause.

“…You see me as a friend?”

“Oh shit. You don’t?”

“…”

I’m too bewildered to speak.

“Sorry. I misunderstood.”

“No… It’s fine... You carried me home. I appreciate that. We can be friends…I guess.”

“Really?”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“Oh, shit.”

There it is. The warmth. He laughs and the spring chill no longer taints my skin.

“Shane…”

“What.”

“…Is it just me or do I get the feeling there is something…more…to this sudden ‘friendship’.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Nevermind. Don’t mind me.”

He takes the shovel from me and starts doing my work again. In a sudden snatch, I steal it back, planting it firmly into the dirt.

“What?”

“No. I misunderstood something, that’s all. I’ve just been getting this feeling…well, maybe it's just me. It’s fine. Whatever. Let’s leave it at that.”

“No. Go on.”

“Let me get to know you properly first, like i've been trying to do for ages, and then maybe I'll tell you.”

What a tease.

“Fine.”

“We shouldn’t go to the saloon again tonight. Even though it's the weekend, it doesn't mean you can get away with more beer and make your new friend worry again, now can you?”

“Shut up.”

“How’s my house?”

Shit. 

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Shit indeed. 

I’ve been invited to his house. Tonight. It seems like something that would be a date? But that's weird. We only just became ‘friends’. I only agreed because I didn’t want to run anymore. And a part of me knew he was helping with my other…issues too. If he can do it in a day, imagine his influence in more.

I have nothing to wear, not even a smile. Not even a fake smile. 

I knocked once. In my scruffy attire, I knock. 

Sweat runs down the nape of my neck. 

Do I smell bad? 

“Come in! It’s open.”

It's small, but homely. A spread of welcoming food is laid on a small table in the kitchen. Thank goodness there wasn’t the cliché of wine glasses and dimmed lights like you would have on a date…wait, what am I thinking. This isn’t a date. Probably never will be. Probably. 

“Hey Shane! New buddy. New pal. New friend.”

I cringe. I can also sense some tension, and I don’t just think it's me. 

“Sit, sit. I have food. Plenty for a lengthy ‘getting to know each other discussion’”

Why am I even here? I don’t even have an interesting life to share. To be honest, I’m here out of curiosity. 

“So…Mr Handsome Hangover, how’s life?”

“That nickname…”

I practically scowl. It brings back memories of the day after the night we met. Not that it’s a bad memory, but it reminds me of how sick I was. And how sick I still feel. 

“Fine. So. Tell me about yourself, and I shall return the favour.”

“…there’s nothing interesting about me.”

“Yes there is. I find it interesting that you always chose to stack the same shelves everyday. What is it that you like so much about canned beans?”

I think at this point he knows me better than I know myself,

I sigh.

“It’s just a habit since my first day, I guess. Maybe it’s because it's closest to the clock.”

“Ah yes, the clock. So you know when it’s time to get off work…I see. Well, tell me about what you like then? Apart from beer, eggs and possibly beans.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Oh. I see. Um…well, I'll tell you what I like at the moment then.”

“Tormenting and teasing me?”

“Close! I like this sweet little town I just moved into, and I like meeting new people. That’s where you come in.”

“I remember now. I like being left alone.”

“Ouch. Touché. Ever since I saw you on that gloomy day, I knew you were not one for conversation.”

“Yet you kept trying. Until you thought I hated you. Why?”

“…why not? Someone staring at the sky is bound to pique your interest, is it not?”

“Touché.” He makes a good point, I guess. I still don’t get it, but I’ll move on. “What made you want to move here and pick up farming?”

“The classic protagonist backstory of course…my grandpa died.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry.”

“It’s fine. I now take care of his old farm.”

“Wow. All by yourself?”

“Yep!” He adds in a wink: “Hopefully not for long.”

Gosh darn it, why does my heart choose the most inconvenient times to beat? I feel more like I'm dying now, than I did yesterday with my whole dizzy fainting moment.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. A farmer partner would be pretty cool. Moving on,” Wow, this guy knows how to keep the ball rolling in the right court, “Shane, what was your first impression of me?”

I realise just now that the food on the table has gone untouched, I signal with my eyes and we both simultaneously dig in, still engaged in conversation. 

Oh my goodness, this food is the best I've eaten and I don’t know whether it's because I haven’t eaten since morning, or because of something else but dear gosh…

“I don’t know. Persistent. Annoying…” and in a last mumble, as though reassuring my thoughts, “interesting…” 

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. What’s wrong with me?

“I heard that! You have an interest in me, eh?”

“No, don’t get on your high horse just yet. I said I thought you were interesting. Not…that.” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

Suddenly, the person I thought was so good at keeping conversation, has become quiet.

“(R/N) Do you have a family elsewhere?”

“My parents are in the big city.”

“I see.”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

“Wondering, you say. Huh. Okay. Well, I’m just wondering…what do you think of my food?”

My heart skips a beat.

“You…made this?”

“Who else? You work at Joja Mart, you know the food there’s as shit as the management.”

“True. So…you like to cook?”

“Of course. A farmer has their own stuff so why not put it to use.”

“This food is great.”

“Why, thank you!”

“I didn’t say it was any more than that, don’t act as though you just won an award or something.”

“I never did such a thing.” smirking comes naturally for him. 

“…what was that thing you said earlier?”

“What thing? Oh that? It’s nothing. I was just being stupid. Getting my hopes up.” 

“Your hopes up? About what?”

“I’m somewhat…mildly…a little bit…attracted to you. And…you sorta gave me the vibe that you felt the same. You know, with all the staring. And the ‘go aways’ and blushing.”

“…I…”

“It’s fine. Forget about it. I understand.”

He’s done with his plate so he casually picks it up as he stands, seemingly to put it away in the sink.

“Are you done with your food?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I say. I can’t look at him. My heart hurts. 

“Seconds?”

“No.” 

“All right.”

With his back turned, my heart beat comes faster. I'm now left alone with my thoughts as he is no longer paying attention to me. 

What did he mean by…attracted to me?

“(R/N.)”

“Hmm?”

A nervous hum tickles in his throat.

“What did you mean?”

“Oh, just my unrequited feelings for you. Nothing big. Let’s just drop it.”

“I think I feel it too.”

“What?”

“But we only just met.”

“What?”

He turns to me, gently dropping the dishes he was mid way through scrubbing.

“So…I’d like to get to know you better.” 

“What?”

“I’d like to get to know you better.”

“What?“

“For pete’s sake, just give me seconds and tell me more about you!”

“So you did want seconds.”

My stomach gurgles.

Maybe just a little.

“I just washed the plates.”

“Ugh.”

“Fine. I have another. Bear with.”

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“Here we are again. The ‘talking phase’. So…how about you tell me what on earth is going on and the fact you just said ‘I think I feel it too’ when I was telling you about my feelings?!”

“…”

“…What? Cat got your tongue?”

“More like a (R/N.)”

“Smooth. But tell me, really, do you really, truly, ‘feel’ something for me?”

Do i? I do. I’m almost certain. A flutter in my guts, a warmth, a heartbeat faster than normal.

It's definitely something, if not indigestion, and it's something I haven't felt in a while. Especially not for another guy. 

“Yes.”

“Cause’ if you don’t then I- wait…really?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

I can feel a different type of heat rise to my cheeks now, and I hide it beneath the palm of my hand.

“I kind of wanna make you say it again.”

“Well I won’t.”

“Fine. Well, why did you wanna learn more about me?”

“Because we met two days ago, and we were both intoxicated.”

“So? We’re here now and we feel the same as we did that night. I think our meeting was fated. Like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die at the end.” 

“So?“

“That's exactly the point. Listen..I'm not who you think I am. I’m a loser. I drink beer everyday to drown in my sorrow of a depressing repetition of the days, and everyone pities me to the point of isolation. You don’t wanna get mixed up with me. Leaving will hurt less than staying.”

“I don’t mind a bit of pain. I’m quite the drama king, after all. You can’t be that bad.”

“Well I am. This is why things won’t work.”

“It will, if we just try-“

“I better go.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?“

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Part 5: Where songbirds sing, hawks circle elsewhere.

Stacking shelves at Joja Mart. As usual. 

Watching the clock over my shoulder, ticking for worthless time. As usual.

(R/N isn’t here). I’m glad but regretful.

Why do I mess up everything?

The door to the shop opens with a satisfied ring, but I keep my focus on stocking the shelves. Whoever enters that door, it doesn’t matter. Just like I don’t matter. 

“Shane.”

Marnie?

“Shane.”

What’s she doing here?

“Shane!”

I jolt out of bed, in a heavy sweat. 

What’s going on?

Marnie's concerned face towers over me.

“Gosh! You’re sweating buckets. Don’t worry. Hold still.” 

She wipes my head with a wet cloth and the relief is almost instant. There's still a tang of heat on my body. 

I’m sick on the floor in front of her. How humiliating.

“For explanation, (R/N) found you on the cliffside with a bit too many drinks, and you’d got sick from the downpour last night. He took you in, dear.”

(R/N)? See, he’s too kind. I don’t deserve this. I should just-

“Marnie? The herbal tea’s ready.”

I can hear him. He’s close. I need to run.

“Woah, Shane. Stay in bed.”

From hands in the hallway, she takes a tray with tea and hands it to me.

“For the hangover.”

I grunt in a thankful return and sip the tea. 

But my mind wanders off, not to the bitter-sweet taste of the tea, but to the thought of (R/N) being so close. Yet so far. 

“Can you get R/N, Marnie.”

“Of course, dear.”

And here he is. In my room. Again. Helping me,again. 

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. I don’t-

“Shane. You're heating up.”

The cold touch of his hand to my forehead shocks me.

The colder the hands, the warmer the heart, they say. 

“I’m fine…”

“No you’re not. Rest for a little. We can chat later, if that’s what you want. Okay?”

“I want to talk. Now.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Before I met you. Everyday felt like a nightmare. A constant one. A never ending one… But then when I saw you looking at the sky, something clicked. I wanted change. And I think you're just perfect for that.”

“What are you on about? You sound like you’re delivering a main character monologue. I thought I was the protagonist here, not you…You're too feverish for a normal conversation-“

“I want to try. Being with you.” 

“You're too sick to think…”

“I was thinking last night.”

“You were too drunk last night to think.”

“I was thinking in my dreams.”

“Wel, I can’t argue against that, but now that just sounds stupid, doesn’t it.”

“What I'm saying is that…you changed my life. Within three days. And without you, things got worse. I realised that last night. But…”

“But…?”

Before I can finish, the heat absorbs me, and I fall asleep once more.

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Part 6: A longing heart, a missing grave of stone. 

Maybe it’s okay to trust my instincts. I should tell him today. 

“(R/N). I have feelings for you.”

“Pfft. You think I didn’t know that? We’ve been on like 6 dates this month.” 

“No. I’ve never properly told you,”

“We’ve literally-“

“Ugh. Just please say it back before I go back to my old ways.”

Part of it was a joke, but deep down, I know, without (R/N), I really would have. 

“Are you seriously giving me a bouquet while threatening me with your past indulgences?”

“What? No…maybe. So, what do you think? Too traditional, handing you a bouquet?”

“No. It’s perfect. As long as it's not a mermaid pendant…”

He laughs and that warmth from the first day we met is still there. 

I’m so glad I met him.

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Author's note: Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments/requests :)

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #shane sdv #sdv shane #shane x reader #stardew shane #shane x farmer #sdv

[sustainably-du-mortain]

All your fics have me wanting to read more about them, haha!

Adam x Nate - I'm very curious about this and would really love to hear more about it! Also about how Jonah ties into it, if you feel like answering?

'you're my family too' - Ohh, this sounds like it will pull at my heartstrings. Will you indulge me with a snippet? Or something else you'd like to mention about it?

oooh thank you!! <3

Adam x Nate - I got the idea for this one right before the writing slump started so it only has a few sentences so far but I already absolutely adore it.

The way I see it, they have that unrequited type of love going on. Nate fell in love with Adam centuries ago (it wasn't love at first sight, but he wasn't far from it either) but never confessed because back then Adam made it very clear that he wasn't interested in any kind of relationship so for the sake of preserving whatever bond they were creating at the time, Nate learned to love him from afar: doing things for him, caring for him in ways that Adam never noticed.

But with Jonah coming into the equation, this changes everything between them. Jonah is quite literally the link that ties them all together. He helped Adam realize that feelings don't have to be bottled away and love is'nt so much of a bad thing after all. Which opened the path for Nate and the possibility of a relationship between these two. He pried the door open so that Nate could walk in.

This is going to be about how Nate managed to nurture that love over the centuries despite it being requited and Adam opening up to him in ways he had never thought possible.

This is the sentence that sparked everything; it's said by Jonah to Adam:

"It's scary isn't it? Realizing that your heart yearns for more than one person."

'you're my family too' - oh gosh this one is so bittersweet!! I teared up when I started writing it. Here's a little snippet!!

This is my first piece with the two of them so I'm really excited about it.

#I have a very soft spot for the triad so writing that piece with A &N is going to break me #idk yet how I'm going to carry that one out or even if it's going to be just a one shot of a longer piece #all i know is that I'm really excited to really get started with it #and that côme x felix piece i really have to get back to it #seren☁️ #ali's wip

[totallytummy]

All Worked Up - Cal x Runa

Cal was attending an important work event and brought their girlfriend, Runa, as a plus one. Runa was talking with some of Cal’s coworkers when she noticed Cal was sitting all by themself. Runa noticed that Cal's dress suit was looking rather tight against their stomach.

Runa slowly weaves through the clusters of guests, stopping to greet the occasional acquaintance or admire a piece of artwork. Her ethereal green dress catching the attention of a few guests.

After a few moments of admiring their girlfriend before snapping back to reality, Cal waved their girlfriend over to the table they were sitting at. Runa pauses her rounds and the music in the background seems to swell as she saunters over to Cal and takes a seat across from them.

"Are you alright?" She asks, glancing down at their stomach as it strained against their dress suit.

Cal grins sheepishly, "I think I messed up... I think I ate a little too much, but I'm not sure if we can leave."

Runa nods thoughtfully, studying Cal's now rounded out midsection. "You're looking rather round there, babe." Runa says half-jokingly which earns her a glare from Cal. Runa reaches out to run a hand over Cal's abdomen as an unhappy sounding gurgle comes from within.

Panicking, Cal grabs their girlfriend's wrist. "Don't do that in public! There's too many people around..."

Runa makes a face, but nods. The gurgling of Cal's stomach is still persistent and it was beginning to worry Runa. "We've gotta get you out of here..."

"Are you sure? I feel like I should probably stay at least a little bit longer. We haven't been here very long..." Cal asked meekly, feeling guilty for having eaten too much.

But Runa wasn't going to have any of it. "Are you kidding me?" Runa asks, her expression softening when she sees Cal's sad expression. "We need to get you home so you can rest, okay?"

Cal glances over at their coworkers mingling. They probably wouldn't notice if the two of them left. They look back at Runa and nodded, "Okay, let's go."

Runa's hand grips Cal's as she pulls them to their feet. "Come on, darling."

"Oh fuck." Cal gasps quietly as Runa helps them up. Their tummy protests the movement as several unsettled gurgles sound off in their belly. "Let's go before anyone notices." Cal murmurs.

"You know I'm taking you to bed as soon as we get home, right?" Runa smirks as she helps take on some of Cal's weight, pulling them out of the building and towards the door. "No protests."

"Rest assured, I won't fight it one bit." Cal groans, rubbing uncomfortably at their side.

Out in the parking lot, Runa helps Cal into the passenger seat, where his stomach instantly begins to let out a series of unhappy, burbling groans. They whine as Runa drapes their seatbelt over their form. "God, you look so full right now, honey."

Cal quickly pulls on their dress coat, somewhat concealing their stomach. "Can you just drive us home?" Cal murmurs, laying their cheek on the window.

Runa gives Cal's hand a squeeze before starting the car. As the engine roars to life, Cal leans their head back, their swollen belly pushing out. When the car is finally moving, Cal shifts uncomfortably, trying to ignore the thunderous gurgles rolling within their digestive tract.

Cal muffles a burp behind their fist and they shift their hips in the seat, trying to get comfortable. "Why did I eat so much at a fucking work event.. I'm so stupid." Cal mumbles guiltily to themself.

Runa glances over at Cal, who's looking even more uncomfortable than they were before. "I'm sure nobody noticed." She glances down at Cal's belly and is about to say something when a louder gurgle tears through their tummy. "Oh, dear... that doesn't sound so good... uh..." She clears her throat, "You really did have quite a lot of food, didn't you?"

Cal burps into their fist once more. "I'm really full... I feel so sick oh god..." Cal covers their face with their hand.

This tugs at Runa's heartstrings as she feels pity for her partner, who clearly is just feeling so miserable and embarrassed beyond belief. She reaches out and takes Cal's free hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. "It'll be okay, love. We'll get you home and you can just get lots of rest until you're feeling better." She once again glances down at Cal's stomach, a flicker of apprehension crossing her features. "Let's hope this is just a simple case of indigestion..."

The two of them finally pull into the driveway and make it inside the house. Before Cal can make it inside, they have to lean against the door briefly.

"Oh, sweetheart.." Runa rushes to help Cal into the doorway, taking a lot of their weight. With a groan from Cal, she helps them into the foyer and up to their bedroom. As they move slowly up the stairs, Runa takes notice of the noises emanating from Cal's gut.

When they finally make it up the stairs, Cal starts to break down. "I feel so disgusting." Their eyes start to well up with tears.

Runa's heart breaks at the sight of Cal's tears. "Sweetheart..." She wraps her arms around Cal, hugging them tightly. "You are so beautiful, Cal. Absolutely stunning, if not a little bloated at the moment." She laughs a little as Cal's stomach lets loose with a flurry of unpleasant sounds. "We'll go a little easier on the food for a bit. No big deal."

"But my coworkers.. I made a complete fool of myself! I looked so... so..." Cal just shakes their head.

"Darling." Runa shakes her head. "You don't need to worry about what they think of you. I love you and I think you look absolutely gorgeous. Even when you're full as a tick." She playfully taps a finger on Cal's full stomach, making them blush. She lets go of Cal's hand and gently pushes them towards the bathroom. "Let's get you some tums and a nice relaxing bath, okay?"

Runa leads Cal into the bedroom and Cal sits down on the bed, hunched over. They still look very tense but Runa is determined to make them relax.

Runa pulls Cal's dress coat to the side- now it's only their shirt protecting their bare stomach against anyone's prying eyes. "Come on, love, into the bathroom." With one arm wrapped around Cal's back, she practically pushes them into the room.

Cal's eyes widen in protest, but the sounds coming from their belly are too loud and insistent to ignore. He complies, his cheeks coloring with both modesty and mortification.

"I've got to get these clothes off you." Runa speaks firmly as she peels the shirt off Cal's torso, the action accompanied by another long and sloppy gurgle from their stomach. "Then we'll get you something for the bloating and we'll run you a bath." She pauses, eyes widening a bit. "Oh, wow..."

Cal wraps their arms around their belly. They are absolutely mortified over this whole ordeal. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Runa shakes her head quickly, "No, no, I just didn't realize you were this bloated! It's okay, it's okay..." Runa pats Cal's back. She's worried, though- the sounds coming from their stomach aren't getting any better. Their body is still tensing up, trying to cope with the pain of it all. "You'll be okay, I promise. Let me just get you to the bathtub..."

Cal sits down in the tub, but still doesn't seem to be relaxing. With a resigned sigh, she slides beside Cal and places her arms on the edges of the bathtub. She rests her hand on Cal's swollen belly, rubbing it gently. "You're not letting yourself relax..."

Cal whines softly and lays their head on the side of the tub. "I can't relax. I ruined everything because I ate too much." Cal's tummy let's out a painful gurgle and they groan. "I'm so stupid. Why did I do this?"

Runa starts gently massaging Cal's tender stomach and shakes her head, "You're not stupid, you just ate a lot of food. It'll be okay."

Cal takes a slow, deep breath and nods. "You're right. I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so upset over everything right now..."

The gurgling coming from Cal's stomach had quieted a little, although the bloating and feeling of discomfort was still present. Runa's eyebrows furrow in consideration. "Do you not normally eat so much? She asks, continuing to rub Cal's tummy.

Cal shakes their head, "No, definitely not." A burp catches them by surprise and they blush furiously. "Excuse me, sorry."

"It's okay, love." Runa smiles down at Cal, who seems still tense and uneasy despite the massage. "Well, if it's not a regular thing for you to eat so much, your stomach obviously didn't respond too well. No biggie. We'll just relax for a bit and I'll keep rubbing your belly, okay?"

Cal nods once again. Although they're still having a hard time relaxing, they still find Runa's presence incredibly soothing. "Um, can we lay in bed instead? I can't really relax in the bath very well..."

Runa nods, "Alright, let me help you out." She reaches down beside the tub to help Cal get out, giving their belly a light pat as she helps them to the bed. "Can I bring you any water or crackers?"

Cal swallows, contemplating it for a moment before shaking their head no. "I really can't eat anything else right now. Thank you though." Cal takes a pair of sweatpants, puts them on and crawls into bed.

"Alright, love. Whatever you need." Runa watches as Cal curls into bed, her eyes lingering on their belly-it still looks uncomfortably swollen. She crawls into bed beside them and starts stroking their hair. "Think you can go to sleep?"

"Mhm..." Cal murmurs lazily, finally starting to feel relaxed.

The two of them drift off to sleep together, Cal's stomach finally starting to settle.

#stomach noises #stomach gurgles #bloated stomach #stomach kink #tummy kink #tummy noises #upset stomach #stomachache #totallytummy Runa #totallytummy Cal #not my best work #i just really wanted to post something lol

[astars-things]

can you write " don't worry. everything's going to be alright... " with Brendan please? Something when his gf is missing her family, because she is international student and he comforts her?

Pairing Brendan Brisson x reader

(sorry for not uploading in a while)

I still remember the first time Y/N told me about her family. We were sitting on the cozy couch in our small apartment, and her eyes were filled with a longing that tugged at my heartstrings. She was an international student, far away from her home and loved ones, and sometimes the loneliness seemed to engulf her.

"Brendan," she began, her voice tinged with melancholy, "I miss my family so much. It's been months since I last saw them."

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her warmth and the faint scent of her favorite perfume. "I know, Y/N," I whispered softly. "It's hard being so far away from home, especially when you're in a different country. But you're not alone. I'm here for you, and we'll get through this together."

Y/N rested her head on my shoulder, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just wish I could see them, even for a moment. I miss their smiles, their hugs, the Sunday dinners we used to have."

I gently stroked her hair, feeling the weight of her sadness. "I understand, Y/N. And I promise you, one day, you'll be able to see them again. Until then, we'll create our own little family here."

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine for reassurance. "Do you really think so, Brendan?"

I smiled, cupping her face in my hands. "I do. We'll celebrate holidays together, make our own traditions, and when the time is right, we'll visit your family. But for now, let's focus on the present. How about we make your favorite dish tonight?"

Y/N's lips curled into a tentative smile. "You always know how to make me feel better."

As we stood up to cook together, I couldn't help but think about the promise I had just made. It wasn't just about making her feel better for the evening; it was a commitment to supporting her through the tough times, to being her anchor when she felt adrift in a foreign land.

Over the next few months, Y/N's homesickness came in waves. Some days were better than others, but I was always there, reminding her that everything was going to be alright. We made video calls to her family, and I could see the happiness in her eyes as she spoke with them. Those moments were a lifeline for her, a connection to the world she missed so dearly.

We celebrated her favorite holidays together, creating our own traditions and inviting friends over to share in the joy. Y/N slowly began to feel more at home, and our apartment transformed into a cozy haven filled with memories of our own.

One evening, as we sat on our balcony, sipping tea and watching the stars, Y/N turned to me with a soft smile. "Brendan, you were right. We've created something beautiful here, our own little family. Thank you for being my rock through all of this."

I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You don't have to thank me, Y/N. It's what partners do. We support each other through thick and thin."

As the months turned into years, Y/N's longing for her family never truly disappeared, but it became more bearable. We visited her family during summer breaks, and the tears of joy when she reunited with them were priceless.

Our love had grown stronger through the trials and tribulations of being an international student far from home. Y/N had found a second family in me, and I had found a deeper understanding of what it meant to be there for someone you loved.

So, whenever Y/N would have a moment of homesickness, I would hold her close, just like that first time, and say, "Don't worry, everything's going to be alright." And with each passing day, I knew we were building a future together, one that was filled with love, support, and the promise of many more family gatherings to come.

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon! #brendan brisson #brendan brisson x reader

[radley-writes]

Ten writeblrs you recommend, go!

Eeeee, good question! I went way over ten because I have 0 self control lmao

@gingerly-writing, obviously - her ideas are :chef's kiss: and I am crouched like a little gremlin in the corner of her discord with both hands held out for a finished manuscript to read. GIB ECO HEIST <3

@cwritesfiction - I love their style! Everything I've read of theirs has been super-fun! Come here for all your urban magic and fun contemporary dorkiness needs!

@byjillianmaria - I loooooooved There's Magic Between Us and have it on my faves shelf! And I had the privilege of beta-reading a different project by her feat. a certain two Greek gods that stayed on my mind for a very long time.

@brynwrites - Their concepts are so incredibly whacky and imaginative and cool. Their writing style is so vivid and descriptive, and I often feel like I'm watching a film in my mind's eye when reading their work!

@linkedsoul - Their Lunar New Love story is lovely, and their poetry is just. Soul-chewing. I don't know how else to describe it, but it tears open my chest in the best possible way!

@fluoresensitive - If you haven't read faer work, you really should. Faer writing made me feel things I have not felt before!

@lowslore - Great fun and I love their mind!!!

@bebewrites - Night Veil is such a cool idea and I want more!

@concerningwolves - Fascinating fantasy - plus they're just an all-round awesome person!

@toboldlywrite - Cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi goodness!

@avi-why - Rad queer concepts that catch a fistful of my heartstrings and pull.

@goose-books - Their writing is DELICIOUS, their concepts JUICY, and I will read literally anything they create.

@incandescent-creativity - Their comic sans WIP powerpoint idea is a gift to the community... as she is herself! I want FLOAT!!

@cactusprincewrites - I've been gobbling up his short stories recently! Go check them out!

@asablehart - Just some of the most beautiful, haunting dark gothic writing and art I've ever had the privilege of feasting my eyes on!

PLUS TOO MANY OTHERS TO ENNUMERATE <3 I haven't been huuuuugely active in the writing community on tumblr for a while - my shitty health turn plus the pandemic blues really nuked both my creativity and my socialising spoons. I'm slowly rebuilding, and trying to get to know a few more of the fresh faces in the community - so if you're not on this list but think you should be.... this is your call to shoot me an ask and tell me about your fave WIP ;)

P.S. - if I got anyone’s pronouns wrong, just lmk and I apologise!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #follow these folks!

[fraglance]

BELONGING

by: fraglance

I belong to moments – moments where I can see and recognize they are fleeting while I'm living and mournfully savoring every second, yet love them all the same. Moments that end up encased in a box that lies in my mind. But this does not mean they are forgotten about at all. No, they become faint reminders, or even words that I either repeat or words that echo in my mind when my emotions are painted blue.

I'm broken up into millions of pieces, where there are small fragments of my being messily, imperfectly scattered everywhere. Where there are parts of me that make these moments their home. This is how I can still say that I'm right at home, where I've always been, my heart full to the brim with love.

The coffee pot is whirring, my mind is at bay, the clock in the other room ticks to where it's in sync with the beats of my heart.

That version of me hasn't experienced much change. Metamorphic change. She may have experienced it in some ways, sure, but no yet the kind she feared. She hadn't known that in only minutes, she'd be knocked off her course. It'd threaten to happen before, in glimpses of disdain. In snide, off handed comments easily sprinkled throughout conversations involving her parents.

The world had tilted on its axis when she was told 'I can't even stand to be in close proximity to you – a lesbian' by her own mother.

So, of course, there are some moments I wish I didn't belong to. Even after years.

But there are positives that sometimes are able to withstand each negative, because one of the previously said moments manage to tug at my already loose heartstrings in a way most others never could. And –

"Miel, are you okay?"

My fingers curled around the 'summer breeze makes me feel fine' mug that I haven't taken a sip from in however long instinctively tense up at the sound of Elko's voice, calm but weary. I seem to come back to life then, because all of my surroundings unblur with a few blinks; the round table in the middle of my cold kitchen, the wooden, nearly spotless floor, the jingling keys in Elk's hand – they all become clearer to me. It's like I've just been given glasses after being blind to faraway objects, though it only boils down to me being unaware of everything around me.

Not wanting them to see me so vulnerable, I attempt to hide the vulnerability; my tears, my longing for the version of me that was able to let my guard down around them. I attempt to hide it all by lightly rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, the sleeves of my 'Forever Chasing Sunsets' hoodie I'm wearing.

I can feel the burning question on the tip of Elk's tongue as they gaze; their eyebrows are pulled back as they run their fingers through their hair, the familiar gold ring that was given to them as a gift from Mat not far from getting caught in the curliness of it all. They slip their car keys in their jean pocket.

(They'd met Mateo when he hesitantly asked to come over to my place to get the last few lines of our band's song right. Elko and I are close to where I don't mind if they're in my home when I'm not, so we found them on my couch with a bucket of ice cream on their lap. It was theirs, thankfully. I vividly remember when they'd put it on the grocery list with a smiley face beside it.

Anyways, Elko eyed Mateo's ring the entire time we conversed, and since Mateo had, and still has, many beautiful accessories, he gave it away with a soft grin and a 'Admire it for me.')

A couple strides and Elko's closer now, gentle smile unwavering. I contently eye each of their movements as they lean their body against the table, then fiddle with the aforementioned ring, twisting it seemingly without knowing.

The realization that they've been waiting for me comes in the form of a sigh from my side. How long have I been inside my head?

"You've sat here for an hour," Elko answers for me. I let out another sigh, this one longer, as I tightly closing my eyes.

Yet again, I've let them down; this is the third time they've tried, and failed miserably, to get me out my house this week. I believe my every move alarmed them, at least in the slightest, as seconds after silence engulfs the room, they add, "All love."

I know It's their way of saying I don't mean any harm, I don't want to pry. I don't, I don't. But are you okay?

And I love them for it.

I allow a small smile to creep upon my face as my tight grasp on the mug loosens. I take a sip of coffee to hide the blooming grin that forms so effortlessly as a result of Elko, and instead tell them, "I'm okay," as I ignore the tinge of disgust the coffee subjects my tongue to. "I'm okay now, Ciervos."

Acting as if I don't hear the sound of their scoff and the protests following, I bring my teal and now-empty mug to the full sink. By standing on my tippy toes, I'm able to reach the highest cabinet to get a mug – specifically Elko's mug. It's matte blue with a constellation scattered across it. They told me (over the café chatter; the sound of drinks being drunk; the whir of the espresso machine) the name of it: Orion. The radiant glimmer in their eyes was more prominent than ever as they exclaimed, 'Y'know, it shines 85,000 damn times brighter than the Sun. The Sun!'

"I am not a red deer," they murmur with an eye-roll, still simultaneously twisting their gold ring when I glance over at them. They almost immediately give up on their mock annoyance, smile fond. The outwardly random nickname originates from Elk, which is a deer, a red deer, in Native America, or ciervos – the Spanish word for it. On the other hand, it's a simple play on words; another version of dear.

"Okay, Ciervos, whatever you say," I murmur, retrieving a jug of white milk from the fridge. The words I belong to moments not only echo in my mind, but reverberate in my chest. It is the sheer reason for the rhythmic calamity of my heartbeats. I belong to the stars and found families and mutual love.

I belong here; not the physicality of it all, so perhaps scratch that. I belong with Elko and Mateo. They make up each and every one of the moments where I feel at home.

#short story #prose poem #prose poetry #creative writing #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poetic #poetic prose #writing #flash fiction #love prose #friends

[ren-c-leyn]

Hey Ren!

Here's a fun one today. Do you have Writeblrs you would recommend? Especially for your December Challenge.

Here's a challenge for you! Hit me up with at least 10 or 11 that would be willing to have me read them for this challenge 😤 [take your time of course I know this might take a hot minute. feel free to include as few or as many Writeblrs as you want!]

I ofc love fantasy and romance but anyone you recommend I will enthusiastically check out (;

@bloodlessheirbyjacques ✨📘👓📚

Hey, Jacques ^^ Here's my recommendation list -

@writingonesdreams, as you well know, is a fantastic writer. I'll always scream praises for Dreams' comforting style and complex characters. Absolutely love the Tears of Iron cast and the snippets I've been able to read.

@queerlilchinchin changes projects frequently, but she always has something cool cooking in the fire. If you like fantasy and crazy creatures, I'd recommend hunting down her Fantastical World of Dreams project. I'm not sure if she's transferred all of the chapters to the new blog, though, so you might need to ask her about it.

@vermontwrites Severally underrated writer, seriously. They work with a lot of different genres from sci-fi, to historical fiction, to fantasy, and they are one of the very best writers at balancing beautiful descriptions with pacing that I've had the pleasure of reading. Some of those descriptions still live rent free in my head even though it's been more than a year since I read the story.

Like queer romance in your fantasy? @writeblrfantasy is an amazing writer who has snippets from tons of fantastic WIPs. High fantasy and Dark Fantasy elements are on point, characters are beautiful and complex, and Lila knows how to play my heartstrings like a freaken violin. She also does this cool thing with her scenes where it'll start with one emotion and then end at a completely different emotion and it is effortless and never really jarring. I can keep rambling, but we've got more writers to cover.

@sleepyowlwrites Another really versatile writer whose done various genres, but I'm particularly fond of Dirt in the Doing, a modern story that's about platonic bonds and complex character dynamics and tragic backstories. Her poetry is also amazing and fantastic. I seriously love it and every time I see Sleepy-friend has written a new one it makes me very happy.

@notwritinganyflufftoday has recently come back from her hiatus. Very good with writing emotions and distinct character voices. I distinctly remember crying at some ungodly hour of the morning over a snippet from a project she was working on where the story was about the people the chosen one left behind while heading out on a quest and was told entirely through letters. It was so, so good.

I haven't seen her around as much, but @austrohungarianwriteblr has a very fun, very quirky historical romance story that's about a noblewoman and her very introverted music teacher falling in love. Her writing style is very fun, very energetic, and I love the characters.

@hyba is one of my oldest mutuals and has several awesome projects going on. Very versatile as far as setting goes, working in everything from fantasy to sci-fi to modern era, but she's primarily a suspense writer. My favorite projects of hers are The Pirates of Sissa, a fantasy setting with complex politics, and A Cure for Happiness which is a fun and quirky high fantasy story where people are dying of being too happy.

While I unfortunately haven't had the chance to dig into his writing itself, @magic-is-something-we-create has some pretty freaken epic world building going on in his fantasy series. Like, if it's even half as good in the writing as it is in his little world building introduction posts it is an incredible world. I'm planning on digging into his archive and hunting down whatever snippets and excerpts I can find when I get the spoons and free time to do so.

I've read a few pieces by @perasperaadastrawriting and @dragon-swords-prophecies and they've both got some promising fantasy stories in the making.

I can't very well tell you to read your own writing, that'd be considered cheating for the challenge ;p

Unfortunately, that's the end of my recommendations. There were more I wanted to whole-heartedly recommend, but it seems that they've left tumblr. I wondered why my dash was feeling empty and I hadn't heard about some of my favorite projects in awhile :/

Have a nice day/evening.

#other people's wips

[rosenallies]

Prompt 45. “Would you hate me?” Teen Janey gets in a fight with Nat and doesn’t know if she can still go to her parents for help. But she really needs it 🥺 maybe she got drunk at a party or something and feels unsafe

"Fuck," Natalie mumbled as the shrill sound of her phone ringing tore her from the lovely dream she'd been having.

Without checking the caller id, she answered, her voice thick with sleep. "Hello?"

"Natalie."

"Jane, what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

"Listen, I know-I know you're mad at me but, but I-"

"Are you fucking drunk right now?" Natalie spat, irritation bubbled under her skin, their fight from only a week ago still fresh in her mind.

"Yes," Jane cried, "I'm-I'm so drunk. Would you hate me if-?"

"Would I hate you if what?"

Jane let out a sob and Natalie felt her heartstrings pull. "I couldn't ever hate you, Jane," she sighed, "what's the matter?"

She sniffled loudly, trying to even out her voice as she spoke. "I-I had to much to drink and I'm scared, there was a guy following me around so I locked myself in a bathroom, but I'm scared and I thought I'd have enough money for a cab, but I don't. I really, really need someone right now."

Natalie sat up in bed, running a hand through her hair. "Stay where you are, I'm gonna go get Noni and we'll come get you, okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled softly.

They hung up, continuing their conversation over text while Natalie shuffled to her parents' room, even though Jane could barely be understood.

"Noni," she whispered from the doorway, not wanting to wake Synthia up as it was so hard for him to sleep lately. "Noni!" she whispered again, tip-toeing closer.

She was lucky Gia was a light sleeper as they blinked awake. "Nat, what's wrong?"

She motioned for them to follow her out of the room.

"Noni, we have to go get Jane," she pleaded.

"Jane? I thought you guys were in a fight."

"We are-or were? I don't know but she's drunk at a party and she said some guy was following her around and, and-"

"Hey," Gia cooed, "breathe, baby. We'll go get her, okay? Don't worry, did she send you where she's at?"

Natalie nodded, wiping away her tears. "Thank you, Noni."

They kissed her head. "No need to thank me, let's go, baby."

Half an hour later, Natalie and Gia found themselves outside a high school house party, music pouring out from the open windows.

"I'll go get her, I don't want her leaving alone," Natalie said, getting out of the car.

"Call if you need help, yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, nodding once before turning on her heel and heading into the house.

She had to push through sweaty bodies and people trying to hand her drinks, but soon enough she found the bathroom Jane had locked herself in.

"Jane?" She called, knocking on the door, "It's Natalie, can you open the door, please?"

She waited a few moments, but just as she raised her fist to knock, the door opened and there stood her best friend, disheveled and distraught.

"Oh, Janey," she cooed, opening her arms and letting her fall into them. "Are you okay? Are you safe?"

"Yeah," she sniffed, "thank you for coming."

"You would do the same for me, right?"

"Of course I would."

"It's what we do, take care of each other. My Noni's out in the car, are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

Natalie led them out of the house, never once letting go of her hand until they were outside where Gia waited for them, leaning against the car.

"Thank you for coming, I'm sorry-" Jane started before being cut off, Gia opening their arms for her just as Nat had.

"Don't you be sorry," they pulled away, holding her at an arm's length away, "we'll always come get you, okay? Let's get you two home, though, it's getting cold."

Natalie and Jane climbed in the backseat together, Jane immediately laying her head in Natalie's lap and falling asleep to Natalie humming and running her fingers through Jane's hair.

Gia couldn't help but look back at them through the rearview, a pang of sadness in their heart at the sight of them.

#sick verse #prompt request

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Will - Chapter 13 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

"Finn."

My eyes snap open.

I struggle to regain my bearings as I stare wide-eyed at my surroundings.

Dimly lit room.

Medical machinery.

A white bed where my best friend is... Kelly.

Kelly's dark, rich eyes stare back at me.

He's awake.

I grab for his hand, squeezing it so he knows I'm here.

The warmth of his touch startles me.

I've gotten used to the coldness of vampires and feeling the life in him is reassuring.

Kelly opens his mouth to say my name again.

His lips are dried and cracked and his olive complexion has lost most of its color.

The scratchy masculinity of his tone tugs at my heartstrings.

Gone is the smooth perfection of his voice.

Gone is the color of crimson red within his gaze.

Instead all that's left are the pieces of Kelly that bring to life the version of him from my memories.

He's no longer the vampire version of Kelly.

He's human again.

I squeeze Kelly's hand again and swallow back the tears constricting my throat.

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you say my name," I choke out.

Kelly frowns and drops his gaze.

His eyes slowly move around the foreign room.

He shakes his head once but winces from the movement.

"What happened?" he asks in his old, familiar voice.

"Where are we?"

Before I get a chance to respond, two green wasps swarm the table.

One I recognize from earlier.

He doesn't excuse himself as he moves beside me to get a reading from the medical devices attached to Kelly's bed.

The other wasp is new.

Her green uniform hugs her feminine curves and her hair is pinned to the side in a way that reminds me of a movie.

Unlike the other wasps, she doesn't wear a mask.

Her face is sharp and angular and her eyes study Kelly's face before writing down a note on her clipboard.

"You're safe, Kelly," she assures him, saying his name like she's known him for years.

"Your body has undergone a tremendous change, though."

Kelly's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He weakly fights against his restraints.

His head whips in my direction again and this time there's panic in his expression.

I put my other hand over top of his and give him a nod of reassurance.

"Where are we?" Kelly whispers.

The alarm in his eyes bleeds into his voice.

"Where's Fiona?"

Oh, hell. Fiona.

The name hits me like a ton of bricks.

Does he not remember?

I can't possibly tell Kelly what's happened with her.

At least, not with the wasps watching.

I can't tell my best friend that the love of his life plotted against him and is now pregnant with the enemy's child.

The Secondary without the mask pulls up a seat to the edge of Kelly's bed.

Her indifferent calm is infuriating.

"Kelly, my name is Helena and I am a medical specialist. We will answer any and all questions you might have but first we need to ask you a few things. Can you please tell us the last thing you can remember? Your last, solid memory?"

She clicks the end of her pen and slides the chart across her lap.

Kelly tugs against the restraints.

His upper lip starts to perspire.

Every look he gives me is frantic and he soon shakes off my hold on his hand.

"What happened to me?" he asks and the tremor in his voice shows he's starting to lose it.

I grit my teeth and lean forward.

"Can you give us a few minutes first?"

The green wasp shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, Finn. Our protocol is..."

"Please." I gesture to my best friend.

"Look at him. He's terrified. Just give us two minutes."

Here I go again with my pleading.

It feels that's all I do now that I'm in the Secondary's world... plead and make mistakes.

Helena gives me a pointed look and calmly intertwines her hands across her clipboard.

"It is in his best interest and yours for me to question him now. His memories are clear and can't be confused with whatever you plan on telling him. Once I'm done you may have all the time you'd like," she explains, and her voice takes on a sharp edge.

"But these first few moments are critical and will scientifically help in the future. Waiting is not an option."

She scoots her chair closer to the side of Kelly's bed and asks her question again.

Kelly searches my face for answers but all I can do is offer up a small smile and try not to cry.

Yet again, this is my fault.

All of it.

I wanted Kelly to become human again but not like this.

Not by having the rug pulled out from beneath the both of us.

"Any small detail will be helpful," the woman urges.

"Just tell us everything you remember."

Kelly turns his focus to the woman beside his bed.

I can practically see the wheels turning inside his mind wondering who she is, where we are and how we got here.

He knows there's something 'off' about Helena.

She's too genetically pristine to be human but her eyes are a brilliant green.

There's no hint of red or hunger in them, a clear indication she's not a vampire, either.

"I remember darkness," Kelly whispers.

He slumps against the bed and his eyebrows scrunch together as he searches his brain for more.

"There are bits and pieces but nothing concrete."

"That's alright," Helena coaxes.

"I remember a town of nothing. Debris. A worn table with biscuits on it. Fiona is crying."

His voice tapers off briefly and he swallows hard.

"And blood. So much blood."

"That's good," Helena murmurs, jotting his words down in her special notepad.

"Very good. Now try to focus just on one of those, Kelly, if you can. Just the last one you can remember. Hold onto it and try to paint the picture around it."

The room buzzes with silence and the hum of the florescent lights above us.

It's one of the only rooms I've seen with these lights.

I've become accustomed to the natural lighting of the Secondary's world, nothing but torches and candles.

The sudden shift to man-made light and the consequential hum of electricity is unnerving.

Was it always this loud?

"The last thing I remember," Kelly whispers softly.

"Is a world of grey. I remember living without feeling. I remember eating without tasting. So much was heightened and yet so much was dulled. It's like a blanket of clouds was tossed over my senses."

Helena pauses and glances up at Kelly.

His answer catches her by surprise and I notice her grip tightening around her pen.

I don't understand the reason for her response... until Kelly speaks again.

"The last thing I remember was leaving an old house," he says in finality.

"Fiona was with me. She had been crying. She kept telling me she was sorry it had to be this way. That it wasn't natural for her to still want me... and that I didn't have to take her back."

Kelly shakes his head, as if to rid his mind of the horrors flashing before his sub-conscious.

I slink back into my chair, my heart hammering against my chest so loudly that it's pounding in my ears.

Helena looks across the bed.

Her eyes meet mine for a split-second before she nods stiffly and writes more on her notepad.

Now I understand the reason for her surprise.

Kelly's memory isn't from when he was human.

It's the last thing he can remember as a vampire.

[chamomile-creations]

GOOD OMENS PLAYLIST - CROWLEY EDITION

⤷ A compilation of songs I think fit the Good Omens series and its characters, particularly Crowley. (please someone with talent and skill use these songs for edits i beg you)

⤷ Anyways, welcome to my essay where I overanalyze Queen songs :)

⤷ SEMI SPOILERS FOR S2

════════════════════════════════════════════

▶ LOVE OF MY LIFE

"Love of my life, you've hurt me/ You've broken my heart and now you leave me/ Love of my life, can't you see?/ Bring it back, bring it back/ Don't take it away from me"

Starting out with a bang, this 1975 song by Queen tears at its audience's heartstrings and portrays Crowley's devastation following the confrontation in S2E6. GO fans could interpret this song as Crowley's lament to Aziraphale after the Divorce.

▶ THE GREAT PRETENDER

"Ooh ooh yes I'm the great pretender (ooh ooh)/Just laughing and gay like a clown (ooh ooh)/I seem to be what I'm not (you see)/I'm wearing my heart like a crown/Pretending that you're still around"

More angst for Crowley, unfortunately. Again, I think this song could serve to express Crowley's 5 stages of grief that he will probably go through after Aziraphale leaves him. Crowley is a being of 'conceal, don't feel' yet with Aziraphale, he feels many emotions. This song is him trying to bottle it up but eventually failing to and succumbing to his heartache.

▶ IT'S A HARD LIFE

"Yeah yeah/It's a hard life/To be true lovers together/To love and live forever in each others hearts/It's a long hard fight/To learn to care for each other/To trust in one another right from the start/When you're in love"

Ineffable Husbands angst! This song could be used to portray Ineffable Husbands in both S1 and S2, but I think particularly in S1 as they realize they have to be on their own side against Heaven and Hell. This song could be interpreted as the struggles Crowley and Aziraphale endure with their feelings for one another and about their respective "offices."

▶ LET ME LIVE

"Why don't you take another little piece of my heart?/Why don't you take it and break it and tear it all apart?/All I do is give and all you do is take/Baby, why don't ya gimme a brand new start?"

This song could be applied to two situations: post-Divorce Crowley with his feelings about Aziraphale, OR Crowley's yearning for freedom from Hell. Either way, let my baby boy Crowley free pls.

▶ WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER

"Who wants to live forever/Who wants to live forever/Ooh/Who dares to love forever/Oh oo woh, when love must die/But touch my tears with your lips/Touch my world with your fingertips/And we can have forever/And we can love forever/Forever is our today"

S1 bandstand divorce, perhaps? Crowley's declarations that they could run away before Armageddon destroys Earth, maybe? Wink, wink.

▶ WINNER TAKES IT ALL

"The gods may throw a dice/Their minds as cold as ice/And someone way down here/Loses someone dear/The winner takes it all (takes it all)/The loser has to fall (has to fall)/It's simple and it's plain (it's so plain)/Why should I complain? (Why complain?)"

This ABBA song can be interpreted as expressing Crowley's emotions regarding his Fall from Heaven due to asking too many questions. Whereas the rest of the song implies the loss of a partner to someone else, I think these lyrics in particular can represent Crowley's anti-Heaven and Hell stance, especially when Aziraphale chooses Heaven over him.

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That's it, folks. If there are requests for Aziraphale or any other characters/dynamics from Good Omens, please let me know. These were a few songs that I interpreted and connected to the show, though I know there are several others that you should give a listen. (Queen: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Somebody to Love; Regina Spektor: Two Birds).

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #queen band #abba