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velvet-n-lace · 5 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet (Belphegor Edition)

Series: Obey Me!

Genre: Smut/Headcanon

Word Count: 1.9k words

Pairing(s): Belphegor x Female MC

Original Template by @/the-coldest-goodbye

CW: somnophelia and some sadism

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s probably gonna be too tired after all that fucking. Belphie would have to recover before he asks you if it felt good or if you are still recovering from your orgasm. He can make the effort to clean you a bit, but he’s really there for emotional support.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Like Levi, Belphie is impressed that he’s got a good physique despite sleeping all the time. Because of that, he likes his slim arms so he can hug and cuddle you in his sleep; he believes slim arms give the best hugs, after all. Belphie also loves two things about you: he loves your thighs because he gets to sleep on them, and he especially (for no inconspicuous reason) loves kissing and wrapping his hands around your pretty neck.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Belphie loves it when he unleashes his load all over your face; watching you struggle with its salty and bitter flavor brings out a slight sadistic satisfaction. If he catches you spitting it out, he will only unleash more deep down your throat. Seeing it glisten under dim light all over your thighs and belly makes him want to lick it off you. Watching you lick it off his cock while he’s recovering from his orgasm only adds to the fun.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There have been nights when you just woke up with cum all over your face or thighs. Belphie would, at times, wake up in the middle of the night from a wet dream and notice you’re too sleepy to give him a quick handjob. He would rub one out and aim it at his desired body part on you. At times, he can be silent and get away with it, but usually, his grunts and sounds of his hand tugging his shaft would wake you up and catch him red-handed.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced in the slightest. It was never his number one priority, but as he got to know you better, he began touching himself and dreaming about you more often. The day he finally got you in bed, he unleashed whatever desire he had for you, and a sweet but slightly sadistic demon was revealed before you.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He’s not much of an active demon, so he loves having you straddle him in a cowgirl position. Hearing you moan his name with pain and pleasure in your voice is what he lives for when you’re riding his cock, and smacking your thighs and ass. Having him on top will unleash his more sadistic side; when he grasps your neck, it usually means he wants you to ride him roughly, which is how he likes it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He usually tries to be serious, but even his serious side brings some sweetness. He really gets in the moment the deeper her goes~

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a bit of trouble grooming himself or at least keeping up a good routine. It was a lot worse before he met you. He needed Beel's help to wake up on time to brush his hair and remind him to take better care of himself. Little by little, you motivated him to at least clean himself better. The carpet matches the drapes perfectly, with the same tints of white over his mostly dark bush.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

He gets intimate, even in the moments when he’s dirty-talking or degrading you softly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he nibbles on your earlobe, his hands roaming over your body like he’s claiming ownership over you.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Belphie’s imagination ranges from you jacking him off violently or having you beneath him while he pounds. He is constantly humping his pillow and grinding his hips into it with a low moan. He often needs to keep it low, especially in the middle of the night when Beelzebub sleeps nearby. When he’s jacking himself with one hand, he’s touching himself with the other hand and imagining you bringing him all this pleasure.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Having you be the one on top while you ride his cock, means he could lie down while you give him all the pleasure. If you could sit on his face, he would happily pleasure you with his tongue. He has a dirty mouth filled with degrading remarks, and he’s constantly repeating them the more he holds you by the neck and chokes you softly. And as mentioned before, he’s very much into somnophelia and being degraded (he doesn't mind being on the receiving end, too). Waking up with your juices all over his face and body will make him seek vengeance on you the next night~

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

It's mainly your room because it’ll be just you two. You can have a quick one in the Twin’s room if Beel is not there, but knowing Belphie, he will probably ask you to come in anyway. Maybe out of spite, he will want to do it in Lucifer’s room, but both of you will get caught and strung up, so… whatever floats your boat.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Most of the time, it’s just catching you doing something unintentionally sexy. Maybe you’re taking a nap in a lewd position, or you were caught humping his pillow. Belphie just imagines the many things he can do to your body when he has his way with you. Sometimes it's even out of spite like maybe you teased him too hard, and now he really wants his hard cock to be inside you.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

It would definitely be positions that are too difficult and tiring for him, including those that make him do all the work. Sharing you with any of his brothers is a big no-no; maybe the only exception is Beel, but even then, Belphie will be very possessive.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving, as always~ You will have him leaning back against the bedsheets when your lips wrap around his length. His slim body rises and twitches each time you take him deeper. He loves hearing you gag on it when you try shoving him down your throat; sometimes, his hands reach out to tangle and grip your hair as he thrusts inside your mouth. He loves the sound of a sloppy blowjob. If you want him to eat you out, you would have to be the one sitting on his face while he gives your pussy some sweet kitten licks.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual wins the race. It’s only when he’s on the brink of his orgasm that he will begin thrusting into you rough and fast~ He may even grip your neck to go even faster~

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Honestly, he totally would be down, but he knows damn well it’s too risky to commit. Instead, he likes to pull you in closely to fondle your breasts or to give your ass a soft pinch. If you’re the one taking charge, then he will follow your lead and be a slave to your quick bathroom stall handjobs~

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Slightly risky, as long as it’s nothing that requires too much stamina~ Besides the fondling and pinching, he can rub his hands against your thighs and maybe even finger you during class. He’s not afraid to walk up to you and begin making out with you in the hallways or right in front of his brothers; it's his way of claiming you in front of anyone watching or trying to make a move on you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Two or three rounds. You would think that a demon with great power would have a bit of strength in him, but he hates that he doesn't have enough left in him to keep it going. He would if he could, so that’s why he prefers you to be the one on top.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Just his beloved pillow and maybe even a vibrator to give him some pleasure. He even uses both for some additional pleasure, and he loves it when both are incorporated while he fucks you. Seeing you humping his pillow turns him on, and he often uses the vibrator to keep you writhing in pleasure.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s so unfair, but Belphie’s teasing is very blunt and direct. Instead of alluding to a blowjob, he would just outright say, “I want your mouth on my dick…” or he would whisper into your ear and tell you, “You’re making me horny…” He’s a king of blunt flirting.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a quiet boy; he knows how to keep his moaning low. He only gets slightly loud when you’re the one doing something to him, like when he reaches a certain point of pleasure, his breath would hitch, and he’ll let out a ghastly moan, maybe even start whimpering your name until you shut him up with kisses.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

As mentioned briefly before, Belphie hates the idea of sharing you with anyone. Beel, however, is the only expectation, but only on very rare occasions. Sometimes, the twins would argue over who gets to penetrate what or which position you would be in for them to fuck you. Belphie can be possessive, and Beel will attempt to wrap you tightly around him. Having two demons pressed naked against you makes it more overwhelming.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Belphie’s cock is sort of shaped like a cow’s dick. Even though it’s not as big as his older brothers, it has an extra ridge, making it look slightly intimidating when it twitches in your hands. It’s perfect for masturbation, and it’s easy to tug on with little effort~

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s high when he’s more awake and when you're in close proximity to him. Although when he’s sleeping, there will be times when he dreams of you and wakes up with some cum stains on his pillow. He thinks his sex drive isn't high, but really, his wet dreams sort of show a different story.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He’s out like a light, and you know this. Maybe you need to wake him up a tiny bit so you can ask him how good the sex was. Maybe he’ll do a little aftercare if you need it, but right after that, he’s out~

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #belphegor obey me #obey me belphegor #belphegor #belphegor om #om belphegor

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just-randie · 2 months ago

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great gatsby main cast but i attempt to draw them in lackadaisy artstyle

had load of fun working on these and i’m quite happy with how it turned out <3

design notes under cut!! (i wrote these at 1 am)

Myrtle

- i wanted her to have this bright, palette that would grab one’s attention.

- based her on the 1974 movie Myrtle and while i haven’t seen it (yet) i did like her fit there better in terms of adapting it for character design. it seemed to have more personality.

- some dress layers to show how she tries to be high class. layers = this illusion. but yk inequality and all, so it’s still just a dress and not much has changed

- curling fur/hair for that energetic and a bit femme-fatal feel to her

- even made her whiskers curly to convey that better

- chose a calico cat since it adds to the palette i was aiming for while providing a new colour + calico cats are stereotyped to be quite sassy so yeah

- rounded by narrowed eyes + blue eye shadow => link to Daisy with her round blue eyes. Myrtle wanted Tom to choose her.

- shortest character btw

George

- Tabby which links him to Tom’s design (Myrtle has a type lol)

- expanding on point above, i really wanted the viewer to think that if you had placed him in a fancy suit he’d probably be better than Tom, but alas capitalism and inequality

- anyway, his fit is based on the 2013 film one. really wanted that contrast between the light shirt and the brown fur, so that the blue (fuck idk how this piece of cloth is in english fucckkkk) wouldn’t blend with the brown tone-wise.

- + blue kinda compliments the brown, so we have some hue contrast going on

- oh yeah, he gets more colour than Tom because fuck Tom

- ruffled, messy fur cuz he actually has work to do (unlike others) + scar on nose from work as well as the plaster on arm(/paw?)

- tallest character!

Tom

- fuck this man. i took all of his colours and made him pretty desaturated! why? hes a pretentious guy who thinks that high class will absolve him of his wrongdoings. a very bland belief hence he gets no colours >:(

- liked the mustache from the 1974 film, so here it is! whisker follow direction of mustache to emphasize it

- very orange eyes to emphasize the potential for his outbursts + they’re sharp cuz that mf is finding out stuff on Jay

- also groomed spiky fur for same reasons as above

- ring on right paw!

- made him an american short hair cuz ik he’d kill himself if he was anything else /j

Daisy

- i wonder where the green colour palette came from 👀 (green light. shocker!)

- was contemplating whether to give her that fur on her shoulders but since i saw that insane picture of a ragdoll cat that screamed Daisy I NEEDED TO KEEP THE FLUFF OKAY????

- based on 2013 movie (i really liked the head piece)

- throw in some tint of yellow at the bottom of the dress for that link with death symbolism <3

- round(ed) forms of fur + eyes cuz she appears innocent and wants to be seen that way!! the “i hope she’ll be a fool” thing” iykyk

- dress not layered at all like say Myrtle, even tho it has a pattern. she appears as she is: a high class, rich girl. she’s not hiding it. (painfully obvious even tho Jay falls for it)

- red necklace = bright colour = link to Tom’s bright orange eyes. they’re married and have had spent time together that can’t be undone.

- ring on right paw!

Jay

- the classic pink suit seen in so many mediums and media

- rounded diamond like eyes cuz yk while he’s this gentleman, the narrowed eyes do imply that he’s being sneaky about something (oh got his past)

- linking to trying to hide things: high collar!

- torn ear + scar on paw + twisted whiskers from war. (i will forever be annoying about how S. Fitzgerald missed this topic COMPLETELY if not outright wrongly represented it through like one line)

- kinda the 2013 based (i didn’t like the hair being like gelled backwards/neatly styled so here it’s more wavy like that)

- joined fur => tried to imply that softness it would have to show that this guy’s pretty naïve with his obsession over his dream

- taller than Tom (important)

- didn’t give him any specific cat breed but i was looking at a bunch of fawn colored cats for this one. the pictures ranged from elegant to silly, so that, i thought, is fitting

Nick

- what if i told you he’s the second shortest here? (SHORT KING!!!!!)

- but to elaborate this guy has been witnessing everything in the book, so idk short height implies the sneakiness

- the idea for clothing: i kinda borrowed from that wiki page pic on him with the still from 1923 movie. I reallyyyyy liked the hat and the implied light palette of the suit

- speaking of palettes, a tint of green because i’m funny like that

- but also cuz it went well with the palette for the fur i established prior

- the fur thing was crazy to think of. first i thought that he might have some burmese cat energy but then i started on that colour and didn’t like it, so it kinda morphed into my cat’s fur colour but lighter (my cat is my pfp). and yk what? this process makes sense since i believe we don’t get anything at all on his appearance from the book.

- anyway rounded face cuz he tries to appear like unbiased hence tries to look pleasant

- but messy tail tip and pointy ears cuz he does have that bias

- scar + torn ear on brow from war (again, i’m annoyed with Fitzgerald)

- only one to have GREEN eyes cuz i’m funny like that (Jay, this is the only green thing you should be losing yourself in)

- bow tie instead of a tie, to give him that distinction as a narrator

Jordan

- siamese cat. i always associated her with a siamese cat

- big/long ears for the fact that she’s very aware of what’s happening in her surroundings! + narrowed eyes since she’s suspicious of ppl (like Jay) + perked up whiskers as she’s paying attention

- gets gold/yellow elements for that entire metaphor she made about being a bad driver (i would explain my interpretation of this metaphor but these are design notes)

- kind of layered dress. she is quite honest yet she doesn’t fully disclose things. she knows her way around this society

- zig zag tail. again, knows how to maneuver herself in this society, which gives her the independence she has

- blue palette of dress stands out against warmer tones of fur; suggestion of this being something that she barely wears on day-to-day basis

#so uhhh remember when i mentioned doing a 12h project?#yeah this is another one #this was like the most spontaneous project i decided to do #the great gatsby #jay gatsby #nick carraway #tom buchanan #daisy buchanan #jordan baker #myrtle wilson #george wilson #digital art #lackadaisy #character design #fanart

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millermouth · 9 months ago

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The Promise of Us: Chapter 1

(I promise I really did try to stop myself from posting this and have patience but I just couldn't do it!!!)

You and the group, exhausted and starving, search for safety in the ruins of a broken world and find potential refuge in an overrun prison. Amid the constant danger, your bond with Daryl grows, though you remain haunted by the trauma of the last night on the farm.

You

You remember again what true hunger feels like after all this time—the gnawing, aching, painful twisting in your gut that threatens to distract you.

The third house of the day looms before you, a crumbling relic of a life long lost to the apocalypse. You tighten your grip on the knife, holding it up by your ear, moving silently as you creep through the back door. The mudroom greets you with the scent of mildew and decay, and the cracked tiles beneath your feet crunch softly, though the noise feels deafening in your heightened state. Snarling comes from somewhere deeper inside the house, faint but unmistakable. You can tell it isn’t the kind of sound that means the walkers have noticed anyone. It’s that idle, low growl they emit as they wait, like predators with no purpose other than to react when prey comes near.

Your heart rate quickens, but you stay calm, methodical. You’ve done this enough times to know better than to let panic creep in. Months of jumping from house to house, exhaustion clouding every move, not sure what lies around every corner. You learn to push down the fear after a while. It never fully leaves you, but it’s manageable now.

From another part of the house, you hear bodies thump heavily to the ground—silent but unmistakable. The thud is followed by a brief pause, then nothing.

Moving into the kitchen, you carefully step over the broken dishes, upturned chairs, and scattered garbage littering the floor. The mess seems like a reminder of how quickly life had fallen apart. People left in a hurry, abandoning everything in a desperate attempt to survive. You glance at the countertop where a calendar still hangs, frozen in time on a date that no longer matters.

The kitchen is eerily quiet, with only the occasional creak of the decaying house keeping you company. Taking a breath, you cross the room, your eyes trained on the door ahead. With your knife raised, you brace yourself and throw open the door, immediately jumping back, ready for whatever horror might come charging through.

Instead, your breath catches when a pair of familiar blue eyes meet yours, an arrow aimed directly at you. For a second, you freeze, heart leaping into your throat.

Daryl lowers his crossbow just as quickly, his lips curling into a faint, teasing smile. Scoffing, you follow him as he turns to go down the hallway. You stay close behind, eyes fixed on the back of his head, watching the way he moves with quiet precision, his crossbow back up at the ready. Always careful. Always ready.

As he leans into the doorway of what looks like a bedroom, you catch a glimpse of something unusual. A large bird—a magnificent owl—perches in the window, its enormous yellow eyes staring back at you, wings slowly spreading wide in an attempt to intimidate.

Without hesitation, Daryl raises his crossbow again and shoots the bird, the arrow landing squarely in its chest. It slumps forward, dead before it even knew what hit it.

“A meal is a meal,” Daryl says, already yanking the arrow free and pulling feathers from the owl’s body in preparation.

“Hear me complainin’?” you quip back, though the idea of eating owl doesn’t sit well in your stomach. At this point, though, you’re beyond picky. Anything that fills the gnawing void in your gut will do.

As Daryl works, the sound of a can opener interrupts the silence. You glance over to see Carl, looking young and exhausted, fiddling with the opener on a can of dog food. The others sit around him, watching him mess with it, looks of hollow resignation on their faces. Before he can get it open, Rick strides over, his jaw tight with frustration, and snatches the can from Carl’s hands, tossing it aside without a word. There's a strange tension in the air, the kind that always lingers after too many days without food, without safety.

The group’s exhaustion weighs heavily on you, making everything feel slower, more oppressive. You look around at the forlorn faces of those around you. Lori sits with her hand resting on her stomach, her head tilted back in momentary reprieve. Hershel sits nearby with Beth and Maggie at his side, while Glenn sits with his eyes cast down, his hand wrapped around Maggie’s. T-Dog stands at the window, his eyes scanning the outside world with quiet vigilance. As you glance at him, your gaze shifts past his head, and that’s when you see them—walkers, moving with their lazy, inevitable purpose, shambling closer to the house. T-Dog catches sight of them too. He turns back to the group, his voice low as he makes a quiet “psst,” a signal that instantly grabs everyone’s attention.

In a heartbeat, the atmosphere shifts. Instinct takes over. The exhaustion that had weighed on everyone moments ago disappears, replaced by the sharp edge of survival. Everyone moves quickly, grabbing what they can, the unspoken understanding that you need to leave—now.

Outside, the vehicles wait like lifelines, ready to go. You swing your leg over the back of Daryl’s bike, the familiar rumble of the engine vibrating through you as he revs it up. The wind whips through your hair as he takes off, his back solid in front of you, but there’s no time to relax. Not now. Not with so many so close. A few miles down the road, when everyone seems sure nothing is around, the vehicles stop and people clamber out. Carl immediately goes on watch towards the back, Beth taking to your right, Carol off to the front left.

Once everyone’s on their feet again, you find yourself standing by Rick and the others, a map splayed across the hood of the Hyundai. The sunlight beats down on you, hot and relentless, as Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog huddle around the car.

“We got no place left to go,” T-Dog says grimly, eyes scanning the map with no real hope.

Maggie is the next to speak up, her voice tight with worry. “When the herd meets up with this one, we’ll be cut off… We’ll never make it out.”

Daryl’s voice cuts through the tension, practical as ever, looking to Glenn, “What’d ya say, about 150 head?”

Glenn squints in the sun as he looks over, trying to calculate. “That was last week… could be twice that by now.”

The words hang heavy in the air as the group exchanges uneasy glances.

There’s more conversation around the map, tension rising with every passing second. Hershel points to a spot where a river cuts through the terrain. “This could delay the walkers some,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “Might buy us a little time.”

You shift your weight, leaning against the hot metal of the car as sweat trickles down your spine, soaking into your shirt. The end of summer has brought an unbearable heat in the day and cold nights, and the relentless sun beats down on all of you now. It makes everything harder—thinking, moving, even breathing. The heat feels like it’s closing in, amplifying the suffocating sense of being trapped, surrounded on all sides by herds of the dead.

Your eyes drop to the map, though the lines and roads are starting to blur. It feels like you’ve been running in circles, from one house to the next, never finding enough supplies, never feeling safe for more than a few hours. Every turn feels like it just leads you back to the same dead end—hunger, danger, exhaustion.

As a plan starts to come together, people split up and take a moment to relax by the cars, getting their things in order.

“Hey,” Daryl growls, his voice breaking through the fog of your thoughts. He’s looking straight at you and Rick, the two of you still hovering in front of the car. “While the others wash their panties, let’s go out and hunt.”

Rick and you meet eyes then, and you nod along, your stomach giving a sharp reminder of how little your lunch had done to fill the void.

“That owl didn’t exactly hit the spot,” you mutter, heading for the trunk of the car where your rifle rests. Your fingers close around the cold metal, and you feel a strange sense of relief. At least with a weapon in hand, things feel a little more certain, even if it’s just an illusion.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・

The train tracks are rusted and overgrown, tangled with weeds and vines from months of neglect. Each step you take along the old rails echoes softly in the still air, the sound barely noticeable over the distant rustle of the wind through the trees. The three of you walk in silence, your eyes constantly scanning the woods, ever-alert for movement—whether it’s game or danger.

The forest feels endless around you, dense and shadowed, the overgrowth reclaiming what was once human space. There’s a quiet tension in the air, the kind that never really leaves anymore, always lingering at the edge of every moment. Your fingers brush against the cool metal of your rifle, ready for anything.

Then, the trees break suddenly, the thick wall of branches and leaves giving way to an open clearing. The sight ahead stops you in your tracks.

A large, imposing structure sits just beyond the clearing—an old prison. Its tall fences and watchtowers rise like dark silhouettes against the sky, but what immediately catches your attention is the movement inside. Walkers. Dozens, maybe more, stagger and shuffle aimlessly within the prison yard, their moans faint but distinct, even from this distance. The chain-link fences seem to hold them in, for now, but the sight is enough to make your skin crawl.

“That’s a shame,” Daryl grunts, squinting as he assesses the situation, his eyes scanning the yard filled with the dead. He tightens his grip on his crossbow, frustration clear in his voice.

You nod silently in agreement, the potential of a fortified structure like that being overshadowed by the sheer number of walkers roaming the inside. The idea of clearing it out seems impossible.

But Rick remains silent. His gaze is fixed on the prison, his jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimmer in his eyes—a twinkle of something…hope, maybe. Or determination. It’s the look he gets when he’s already starting to formulate a plan, even if the odds seem stacked against him.

You exchange a glance with Daryl, sensing that Rick might see something more than just a lost cause in the wreckage ahead.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・

You press your weight against the fence, the chain link rattling under the force as you shove your knife through an opening, right into the skull of a walker. Its snarl cuts off abruptly as it slumps to the ground, but you barely register it. You’re already moving again, feet pounding against the ground as you run through the middle walkway between yard and forest. Daryl stays up front, his torn leather vest flapping in the wind, the angel wings on his back catching the light.

“It’s perfect,” Rick whispers, his eyes scanning the prison yard as you all pause, “If we shut that gate, stop any more from coming in, we can clear the yard.” His voice holds a quiet certainty.

“I’ll go,” Glenn offers, stepping forward, but Maggie immediately shoots him a glare, shutting him down. Glenn stands his ground, though. “I’m the fastest. I can do it.”

Rick’s eyes shift to Maggie, Beth, and Glenn. “No, you, Maggie, and Beth, draw as many as you can over there.” He points toward the far side of the fence around the corner, “Pop ‘em through the fence.”

“Daryl, head back to the other tower,” Rick continues, calling out names and assigning positions, while you stand quietly, waiting for your role. Steady adrenaline keeps you going, buzzing with something inside you. There’s no space for fear, excitement, or even hesitation. This is just survival.

Daryl catches your eye, his gaze quick and searching. It’s a silent check-in, a wordless connection. You give him a short nod, enough for him. Then, he’s off, running toward his position.

One by one, everyone scatters, moving to their designated spots—ready to lure, shoot, and take down walkers. You watch them go, your focus sharp, every movement rehearsed in your head. The gate is key. If it stays open, there’s no winning this fight.

Rick looks around, watching them all head off, and then his eyes land on you. His lips quirk up in the corners, eyes almost apologetic.

You breathe out a chuckle, half rolling your eyes at him, “I’ll run for the gate,” you moan sarcastically, realizing your fate.

“I’m right behind ya,” he chuckles, standing by the fence. It’s such a strange thing– seeing him smile now. Like all his prayers are being answered today.

You hear the others calling for walkers, the sounds of knives piercing skulls and bodies hitting the ground inside the fence. Lori stands by the gate, her face tense as she takes a deep breath, looking at both of you for a moment, then pulls it open just wide enough to let you and Rick through.

You move quickly, quietly, gun raised, knife ready in your other hand. The air is thick with tension, but your movements are automatic now—practiced, efficient. You let your gun fall to swing around your torso by the strap to slash your knife through walker’s heads, a few finding you and Rick more interesting than those along the chain link fencing. Gunshots ring out nearby, and you see bodies falling, but you don’t let it break your stride. Rick is right beside you, both of you sprinting for the main gate. You hear a snarl coming up behind you, but when you turn to take it down, it’s already falling to the earth with an arrow in its head. You look up across the yard and see Daryl in the guard tower, his eyes on you. You throw him a quick nod again, thanks , and take off.

When you reach the inner fence, you quickly tie a cord to secure the entrance, your fingers working fast as Rick kicks down a walker that got too close. Without missing a beat, he pulls you toward the center guard tower, and you follow him up the narrow stairs, your breath steady despite the chaos below.

At the top, you finally pause, glancing down at the sea of walkers in blue jumpsuits. Their lifeless movements seem almost surreal from this vantage point. When you look over at Rick, you notice something that catches you off guard—a smile. A genuine, wide smile spreads across his face, a rare sight these days. He lets out a short, breathless laugh, almost disbelieving, and before you know it, the two of you start shooting down the walkers below, one after another.

One by one, they hit the ground. The smiles on everyone’s faces are priceless. For the first time in months–months, you hear laughter. A small part of you recognizes this rare moment of relief too, letting your tense shoulders fall in celebration. Daryl is waiting for you when you reach the bottom, moving toward you with a quiet kind of confidence. Without saying a word, he hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you close so that your head fits into the crook of his elbow. He kisses the top of your head, a gesture that feels grounding, steady.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・

Later that night, everyone is gathered around the firepit, the orange glow flickering against tired faces, and you and Daryl are stationed on watch atop a truck that was flipped onto its side to block the gated entrance out of the field. Your legs dangle down by one of the tires, your rifle resting across your lap. You sit quietly, feeling the weight of the night but enjoying the quiet– just the rhythm of breathing and waiting. Daryl’s footsteps sound behind you, pacing back and forth along the metal of the truck, eyes sweeping the area, always alert.

You watch Rick make his rounds, occasionally catching sight of him when he passes through the inner fence. It’s almost mechanical now, his path well-worn as he loops around again and again. He’s passed three times already. For a moment, the space feels surreal—so much room to breathe, and yet the tension still lingers just beneath the surface.

A hand appears beside you, and you glance down to see Carol’s face, her eyes alight with a small smile. Daryl must have noticed her at the same time, because he leans down and helps her up onto the side of the truck with a grunt of effort.

“It’s not much,” she says, handing you and Daryl a few scraps of meat, “but if I don’t bring you anything, you won’t eat at all.”

You give her a quiet nod of thanks, accepting your share. The meat is dry, but it’s something.

“I guess little Shane over there’s got quite the appetite,” Daryl grumbles between bites, nodding toward the group around the fire. You immediately avert your eyes, your fingers tightening slightly around your lap. You try to drown out the conversation, forcing yourself to focus on anything else—the distant crackle of the fire, the rustling of the trees outside the fence—anything to stop the memories from creeping in.

You can hear the teasing tone in Carol’s voice, “Don’t be mean,” but as she continues, she gets quieter–serious, “Rick’s gotten us a lot farther than I ever thought he would. I’ll give ‘em that.”

Daryl grunts in agreement, chewing on his food.

“Shane could never do that,” she adds quietly, her tone shifting.

The name catches you off guard again, and your stomach twists, though you try to push the feeling away. You gulp down what’s left of your food and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to stifle the wave of nausea creeping in.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asks, his voice low, though Carol doesn’t seem to notice the look on your face as she rubs her neck. But he’s not talking to you, he’s looking at her. You manage to open your eyes after the wave of uneasiness passes, and look up at them.

“The rifle,” Carol mutters, her hand gripping the side of her neck, “The kickback—guess I’m just not used to it.”

Daryl finishes licking the last of the juice from his fingers, then invites her over with a simple wave. He puts down his crossbow and begins kneading her shoulder, working out the tension in her muscles. You sit there, watching, feeling almost like you’re observing from the outside. His hands move with practiced ease, and Carol smiles back at him, teasing warmth in her eyes.

She turns her head, grinning. “Wow, Daryl, that was pretty romantic,” she says with a mischievous twinkle, “you hitting on me now? One girl not enough for ya?”

“Pffft…” Daryl rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring her, though a flicker of a grin crosses his face. He’s about to dismount the truck when he adds, “I’ll go down first.”

Carol, with a playful smirk, looks to you and winks, “Even better!”

A twinge of humor finally breaks through, and you can’t help the laughter that escapes you as you chuckle with her. Daryl’s face flushes brick red as he helps Carol down from the side of the truck, his hands gripping her sides briefly before letting go the moment her feet hit the ground. She heads off towards the group around the fire, leaving the two of you.

You go to get down yourself, but he stands in front of you, his arms up, waiting. “I got it,” you say, waving him off.

“I know,” his voice quiet, but his fingers twitch to beckon you down. You give him a small smile, and allow him to take you in his arms as you make your way down to the ground. His hands remain on your sides even when your feet find the grass below, and you find yourself holding onto his elbows for support, both of you lingering in that space.

There’s an unspoken moment between you, the air thick with something unsaid. You hang there, waiting for what he might say next, aware of the quiet tension settling in his features.

“You know,” he begins, his worried expression breaking into a small smile playing on his lips, teasing, “I’m still all yours,”

“Good to know,” you murmur back, not really sure what else to say, but your lips twitch up playfully at his flirting. The way he’s looking at you makes it a little easier to be present, even if just for a moment.

Daryl’s lips quirk into a grin, satisfied with your reaction, even if it’s brief. He shifts, moving to walk along the side of the truck next to you, the two of you side by side now.

“Can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m strayin’,” he teases lightly, his tone playful but gentle, almost like he’s testing the waters.

You glance at him again, another small laugh slipping out, even if you don’t fully feel it. It’s enough to lighten the mood, and for now, that’s enough. He takes your hand, his rough calluses a comfort you’d come to love scraping your skin. He tugs you forward, towards the group. Where you could hear Beth singing.

But since it has so ought to be

By a time to rise and a time to fall

Come fill to me the parting glass

Good night and joy be with you all

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・

Daryl

She hadn’t smiled in months.

Not a real smile, anyway. Sure, he’d gotten some laughs out of her, but they weren’t the kind that came from within– a true, belly laugh. It was more like a quick puff of air, almost like a scoff, like the sound escaped before she could even stop it. But those smiles, the ones that used to light up her whole face– Gone. He missed that. He missed the way her eyes used to shine when they’d tease each other, trading jabs and grins like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Now, her smiles never touched her eyes. They were always distant now, like her mind was a million miles away. And damn if that didn’t tear him up inside.

It had been months since they’d felt any real safety, and maybe that was part of it. Being on the run, never knowing if you’d have a place to sleep or if walkers would come through at night—it wore on everyone. Constantly watching your back could drain a person’s spirit, and he figured maybe that had something to do with the change in her. But deep down, he knew better. This wasn’t just about the lack of safety. This was about that night on the farm. What Shane had done. What she had to do. Daryl hadn’t been there in time to stop it, and even though she survived, something in her had changed.

Daryl wasn’t good with words. Never had been. And when it came to asking her what was really going on, he figured he didn’t even have a clue where to start. He didn’t want to push her—didn’t know if he should. But every time he caught her staring off into the distance, or going through the motions like she was just surviving, it hit him like a gut punch. Something was broken inside her, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

So, he did what he always did—he stayed. Quiet, steady. Right by her side. If there was one thing he was good at, it was being there. Being solid when everything else fell apart. He didn’t need to know the right words, not really. Words had never mattered much between the two of them anyway.

He wasn’t gonna give up on her. Not now. Not ever.

But damn, he missed that twinkle in her eyes. Missed the way she used to jab him in the ribs with her elbow, flashing him that teasing smile that made everything feel lighter. He wondered if that part of her was ever coming back, or if the world had taken it from her for good.

He glances over at her now, sitting a few feet away, the firelight dancing along her features, fingers idly tracing the edge of her gun. She looks lost in thought, far away from him, from the fire, from the group. He isn’t sure how to reach her, but hell, he was gonna keep trying, even if it meant standing next to her in silence for the rest of his damn life.

#the promise of us #the ruins of us #daryl dixon #daryl #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl one shot #daryl dixion imagine #daryl twd #daryltwdixon

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lvrhughes · 9 months ago

Text

Pumpkin Patches | J. Drysdale

pairing: Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary: Jamie and his best friend go to the pumpkin patch, leading to a confession.

word count: 1.13k

warnings: none

requested: no

not my gif!

“Please, please, we have to go. It’s a once in a year thing!” you begged, your hands pressed against each other as you pleaded at Jamie, standing in front of the Canadian boy in his own home, blocking him from the front door.

“If I agree, will you let me out of my house?” His voice held a hint of sarcasm, not that you’d pick up on that now.

“Yes! Yes, you’re free if you promise to come.”

He’d never tell you that his question was sarcastic, especially upon seeing the shine in your eyes once you’d thought he agreed. So he did.

“This is so dumb, it’s all couples.”

So maybe you hadn’t thought it through taking your best friend, who you may have had a crush on, to a pumpkin patch in the mid of october. But you were sure it’d be fine.

“It’s fine Jam, we can do our own thing. We’ll be better than the couples.” You grinned, linking your arm through his to bring him through the field.

He followed swiftly, keeping up with your rapid movements as you ran towards anything that piqued your interested, including the random scarecrow that stood guard in the middle of the field.

“That thing’s so creepy.” Jamie muttered, watching you run towards the figure with a smile on your face, turning to beg him to take your picture with it.

He complied, as much as he found the thing creepy, he’d do anything for you. Even if it meant standing by a demented scarecrow longer than necessary.

You quickly grabbed his hand after, bringing him deeper into the fields of pumpkins. Stopping suddenly, Jamie practically walking into your body as you moved to kneel to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Jam, it’s perfect.” Your voice was filled with awe, picking up a tiny, oddly deformed, pumpkin from the ground.

“What?” He looked dumbfounded, staring at the pumpkin you held while you put your hands out to show him.

“I’m taking it home.”

Jamie shook his head, he had no argument, how was he going to tell his best friend her pumpkin was stupid? He wouldn’t.

“Okay, are we done here now?”

Having been at the patch for the last two hours, running through the fields with the girl he harbored a crush on for years, he grew tired.

“No, we still need to get hot cider and go for a ride on the tractor!”

He simply nodded, allowing you to take his hand and lead him back towards the entrance. Taking him to the booth of hot apple cider just beside the gates, leading him to stand in line whilst you held onto your tiny pumpkin. The line moved quickly, letting you and Jamie get you drinks within five minutes, leaving you standing waiting for the tractor to come back for another round of rides.

A shiver ran through your body, the wind having picked up nearing the end of the day, you held the warm cup closer to you. Jamie moved quickly, shoving his jacket off and around your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm.

It was a peaceful moment, waiting for the owners to return with the tractor, the sunsetting in the background whilst you swayed in Jamie’s arms.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice interrupted the moment, she held a camera and a shy smile on her face, “Would you mind if I take a photo of y’all for our website? You two just look so cute.”

You looked up at Jamie, waiting for his answer, he mumbled a soft ‘sure’ towards the woman before she picked up her camera. Aiming it towards the two of you whilst you smiled for the picture, hearing the click of the shutter as she thanked you again.

“I think she thought we were dating.” Jamie spoke first once she left, his arms still wrapped around you as he spoke, running softly up and down your body.

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?”

“No.”

You looked up quickly, trying to gauge the reaction on his face as he stared back at you, yet the tractor seemed to arrive before you could further an explanation.

“Last ride of the night!” The farmer exclaimed, urging the few people who stood around you and Jamie onto the tractor, loading you both last.

The ride was peaceful, the sunset melting into gorgeous colors around you while Jamie kept his hold on you, his arm never leaving your waist for the ride. It was a ten minute ride, yet it felt shorter, yearning for longer when you had to get off. Jamie jumping down softly, reaching his arms out to help you down before collecting your pumpkin and ciders you’d left on a hay bale before the ride.

“For you, M’lady.” He joked, passing you the, now lukewarm, cup of cider and the tiny pumpkin.

“We’ve got to pay for the pumpkin then we can leave.” You spoke, taking a sip of the cider whilst walking towards the makeshift counter.

Dropping the pumpkin on the counter in front of the woman, she all but laughed, smiling at your choice of pumpkin before speaking. Jamie’s arms wrapping around your waist as you listened to the woman, letting his warmth surround you.

“This is your pumpkin of choice, sweetie? You can have it, on the house.” She grinned. Passing the pumpkin back to you.

“Really?”

“Really, it’s yours. Now have a lovely night you two.” She spoke softly, waving her hands to signal for you to leave, smiling at her as you walked away.

“You got a free pumpkin, how do you feel?” Jamie asked, opening the passenger door once you’d made it to his car.

“This was amazing, thank you for coming.”

Jamie smiled at the words, sliding into the driver's seat with ease, starting the car to turn the heat on in seconds. His gaze falling to you quickly, catching your eye when you stared back at him.

“Can you kiss me now?”

Jamie’s mouth dropped at the words, staring at you like you’d spoken Spanish to him before he collected himself. Leaning further over the center console while keeping his gaze on you, staring at your lips before he spoke.

“Only if you’ll agree to be my girlfriend.”

“I think I can agree to that.”

You smiled, watching the smile grow on his face as he reached over. Cupping your jaw while he leaned to press his lips against yours, letting you melt towards his while fireworks seemed to ignite throughout your body.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” Jamie whispered, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that for so long.” You whispered back, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips again.

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #philadephia flyers #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #flyers #mads writings!

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marisandini-chu-blog · 2 months ago

Text

EPISODE 4 TBHX LET'S GO!!!!!

A quick word before we begin; just to establish my mindset and expectation as I watch this. Particularly about the Trust Value.

I've mention this before in previous posts how there's nothing wrong with Heroism; the desire to be popular and notice, with the performance that comes with it.

Image is important. Image is a tool. Heroism push people to do good, even with shallow intention, and the people who receive help would not have cared if they were genuine or not.

There is good in heroism the same way there is good in being able to enjoy a good music from an artist we love. Excited for youtubers making content to teach and spread joy in a community they establish. For TV personalities be able to spread good message and bring awareness for people to come together and point their energy for a good cause.

It's not always vain in wanting to be popular.

Which is why it becomes a problem when a capitalist system tries to monetize a virtue. When people enable a toxic culture without calling them out. When trust becomes a cage.

So I'm looking forward to Lin Ling's finale and the conclusion of his arc; will he change or will the system change?

Will Lin Ling put trust on the people who still relies on him? Vise versa, will the people keep their trust even when his image has change?

Now... let's begin.

Of course God Eye aim his attack the moment Nice is at the Top 10. That petty bitch

"The Moon has to be a played actor" Oh no... I feel called out

God Eye, you want to show reality to the world and yet you're denying your own truth; which is that you are a petty bitch

WHAT THE FUCK?! HE CAN'T LEAVE?!

God, I wish I had save the post, but there was someome who mention how the Trust Value makes a hero's body a cage while their mind is still free — this fits with how Nice's body doesn't want to go outside but his mind wrestle to save Moon

Oh God, I don't know how to feel about this. Maybe I am bias, but I would feel terrible if my trust and faith is taking his free will away — and we've seen how the people would rather have the hero save people than their image in the previous episode. There's definitely people who want Nice to save Xiao Yueqing, but they're drown out by the majority

MISS J YOU'RE NOT JUST ERASING MOON'S MEMORIES, YOU'RE ERASING LIN LING'S VERY EXISTENCE WITH THAT CHOICE! NOOOOOOOOOO!

Urgh, this is why I hate God Eye's whole schick. He's basically a papparrazi trying to create the next buzz even at the expense of someone

Ooooooh, I like how God Eye is not just changing the Public's perception of him. But also the Blaster's perception of himself and the animation SHOWS!

YEAH, LIN LING! YOU'RE NOT NICE! GO BE A HERO!

Hoooooooly?! I didn't think Lin Ling is gonna reveal all the truth?

You know what's ironic? As easy as it is to break people's trust, It's not that hard to gain their trust

A youtuber named Aliciaxlife (check her out, she's great) also react to this. And one of the things she shared was at the start, she creates a persona for the public that becomes stiffling overtime. When she decides to break it and be more genuine (read: meaner😆), her views plummeted for a while before it rise back up

So even though it's over dramatic, hasten and simplified – this kind of stuff does happen. That if you're willing to be genuine and spoke out for the right thing, people will always root for justice

Lin Ling's fight is sooooo ugly, I LIVE FOR IT!!!

Okay, so Lin Ling shootingup into Top 10 level is a bit of a strech, ngl. There should be a lot of people scrutinizing

I FUCKING KNEW SHE WAS FAKE!!!

Okay, having people who fakes things get faster gratification can be annoying. At that point, I can understand God Eye's perspective

God Eye could actually make a good point if he decided to put all that energy to be less annoying a better version of himself instead of tearing other people down.

For someone who begrudge a hero who fakes himself, he seems too surprise at seeing the truth push Lin Ling stronger. Maybe perhaps people fake themselves because people like you who likes to pull people down with the truth? Ever think of that, God Eye?

THE COMMONER?! FUCKING COMMONER? WHO THE HELL IS COMING UP WITH THE LAME ASS NAMES? FIRM MAN IS BAD ENOUGH ALREADY!

Xiao Yueqing becoming a hermit is not what I expected from her

WTF?! SHE ACCIDENTALLY PUT HERSELF IN AN ABANDON ISLAND?! I SHOULDN'T LAUGH BUT GIRRRRRLLLL!!!!

It fits her character though. Of course she jumps and didn't think twice

The definition of be careful what you wish for

Lin Ling, I don't know how you work that teleporter gun, and I don't care to know. Just get her out of this island, I think she has enough...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I heard about Director Li's reputation but...

WHAT THE FUCK?!

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

AFTER AN ENTIRE EPISODE DEDICATE TO NOT LET HER BE AN ACCESSORY TO A HERO - YOU FRIDGE HER?!?!?!

The worst part is? I can't even hate it! WE'VE BEEN WARNED FROM THE FIRST EPISODE!!!

Episode 3 React

#tbhx #to be hero x #reaction #episode 4 #tu bian yingxiong x #lin ling #this episode is a giant WTF

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rootsofdread · 2 years ago

Note

Thinking of Ace, Ash, Chris, Wesker and Anna with a s/o survivor with the HEAVIEST plot armor possible, as if they're from looney tunes. They are just so lucky trials get straight up comedic instead of scary — killers trip over their legs somehow, bang their heads on the trees, miss the easiest shots possible etc etc, and reader is just standing over there like "😄"

Mayhaps they could just go around helping people, since there's barely anything to do apart from that !!

🦞 eatwell

Ace Visconti:

Ace seems to love having another person around that has the same amount of dumb, “unlucky” luck that he has, too. Finally, someone who can relate to falling face-first in a patch of bushes after jumping out of a window, which really hurts, but will get the killer off of you. Though, your kind of luck usually ends with stuff like that happening to someone else instead of yourself…but he has seen you take a few tumbles down the basement stairs, and is always amazed when you’re perfectly fine afterwards. He somehow tends to be on the receiving end of your luck, he’s been tripped over and run over by the killer quite a few times while they’ve been carrying you, making them immediately drop you. But even with luck like this, he loves spending trials with you, because you make every single one fun.

Ashley J. Williams:

Honestly, Ash loves having someone like you around in the fog. Even though anyone around you tends to get hurt for your benefit, he finds it funny to watch from afar. It’s like watching a cartoon play out in real life. A safe distance, where he’s safe from being tripped over or tackled by the killer when they’re supposed to be looking for you, because he already has pretty shit luck and bringing you into the equation never makes it any better. But he is also known for poor life choices, so he does end up making the mistake of hanging a little too close to you when he probably shouldn’t. He’s been hit by missed swings that were meant for you many more times than he’d ever care to admit. But he will admit, seeing the killer run into a tree branch while chasing you down makes up for it.

Chris Redfield:

If you know Chris, you know he’s a very no-nonsense sort of guy. He doesn’t necessarily approve of the antics that seem to follow you around, but he also knows there doesn’t seem to be much that you can do about it. Most of the time, he sits back and watches you from afar to make sure you don’t get hurt or get into trouble due to…whatever it is that you seem to have. The joke is on him whenever he believes he has to jump in and save you though, because most of the time it ends with him getting tackled into the dirt by the killer when they meant to jump on you. You can probably imagine the look on his face when he gets hauled away by the killer and you’re springing away without a scratch.

Anna / The Huntress:

To put it simply, Anna gets incredibly frustrated by how well you avoid everything she throws at you. Literally. Every time she tries to throw a hatchet at you, you lean down to pick a flower and it flies off, or someone calls your name so you move and she hits a tree instead, or you just so happen to trip over a tree root at just the right time so that she hits whoever you were traveling with instead of you. She doesn’t know how you do it. How you always seem to know whenever she’s aiming to hit you. She usually resolves to just leave you alone most of the time, but she knows at some point she has to try to hit you. At least you give her good target practice…

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker has to admit, he’d much rather study you than try to catch you. Trying to catch you usually doesn’t end well for him or anyone in the immediate vicinity. He can’t complain when someone else falls in his path at just the right moment as you move out of the way, but you are who he’s aiming for. He decides he just needs to plan around your shenanigans, which may seem impossible to others, with how unpredictable trials can go with you thrown into the mix, but he’s a scientist. His entire life has been carved from the unpredictable, and he’ll get to the bottom of what makes you you, even if he has to endure smacking into a few trees and falling out of windows to make that happen.

#inbox #gender neutral reader #survivor reader #ace visconti #ash williams #chris redfield #the huntress #albert wesker #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #ace visconti x reader #ash williams x reader #chris redfield x reader #dbd anna x reader #the huntress x reader #albert wesker x reader #the mastermind x reader

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rory-multifandom-mess · 10 months ago

Note

This might be an odd request, but if you’re interested could you do Jhad angst with prompts 2 and 21? I get it’s a pretty niche ship, but I’ve seen your other work and I’m interested on your take of the pairing.

Brother I shit you not I was JUST talking about this ship right before you sent this ask I am not even kidding. The timing on this was amazing. Here’s the screenshots of my exact reaction

ANYWAY I’d gladly do this pairing!! I think it would be really cute and I may or may not be thinking about writing a slow burn for it eheheheh

2. “Please don’t leave me” and 21. “I’m better when I’m with you”

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Alone. A word that kept repeating in J’s head.

She was alone again, just like before, just like she always was. Just like before the manor, and after the massacre. She couldn’t win. She just couldn’t win.

Tessa was her friend, yet she was ripped away from her by that damn thing. V was her friend, yet she ruined that by siding with it.

Why couldn’t V just understand? It was the only way to survive. There was no escape, even in death… Though apparently she was wrong. Because they won. Solver was gone, and she was alone again.

J sighed as she gripped the blow torch harder, repairing the ship she had unceremoniously blown up.

She grit her teeth together, memories of their battle flashing before her, of Cyn using Tessa’s skin as a suit.

Suddenly, the blowtorch snapped in half from the pressure, the metal dented.

“Damnit!” J exclaimed, angrily throwing it into the snow beneath her. She jumped off the ship and kicked the broken torch further away, fists clenched by her side.

“Yikes-“ A voice said nearby, by the exit of the corpse spire.

J immediately swiveled around, one of her hands switching out for a rocket launcher as she aimed in its direction.

The worker drone flinched and fumbled with whatever it was he was holding before putting his hands up, eyebrows raised.

“Woah, J, relax!” He said.

“Oh.” J huffed, lowering her arm.

It was Thad, the one worker drone she managed to befriend. Well, more like he befriended her, despite her previous attempt to kill him. Granted, it was at least a few months after she had attacked that bunker.

She’d first met him in the woods, just outside of the abandoned city where “Tessa” was scouting out. She’d put J on watch duty.

At first, J didn’t bother to interact with him. But then she kept seeing him, and he’d only look even more sad and cold each time. Eventually, it turned into pity. She’d visit him while Boss was scoping the planet.

She would never admit it, but she slowly grew acquainted with this strange Worker Drone. Maybe it’s because it reminded her of the manor, when life was simpler. Maybe it’s because he reminded her so much of Tessa, goofy and dorky and funny and caring all the same. It was a breath of fresh air.

That was, until boss pulled her away from him too, because she finally had a lead.

J wouldn’t see him again for a while, at least not until everything came to a head and it was finally time for Solver to finish what it had started on the planet. They hadn’t gotten to talk at all, of course, everything was so intense, but she had noticed that he was hesitant to attack her before the planet had suddenly broken into pieces.

“What do you want? Here to mock me?” She asked with a snarl.

“Uh… no,” Thad said, scratching the back of his head. “I wanted to check up on you, actually.”

Her gaze softened as Thad walked further in.

“Y’know, that whole big battle seemed really intense. Thought you could use some company, since…” He trailed off.

J crossed her arms, putting her weight on one of her legs. “Because everyone hates me now?”

Sweat ran down his visor. He blinked and nodded slightly.

“I wanted to give you this.” He held out the item he had been holding to her.

It was a plush of a pink rabbit, its ears, arms, and legs floppy. It had button eyes and a white belly, yet it looked dirty with oil and debris. J took it from his hands and turned it slightly, looking at it.

Her expression softened more.

She loved plushies, even now after all this time since the manor days. She had missed just being able to hold one close and play with it. She gently squeezed its torso.

“…Thank you, Thad.” She said, glancing away and furrowing her brows, “But I don’t… I don’t need plushies.”

Thad raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you hesitate?”

J stopped for a moment, then moved the plush to her other hand, her claws extruding from the other as she pointed them at Thad.

“Don’t forget I can kill you right now!” She threatened, baring her teeth.

Thad put his hands up again, but only chuckled. “C’mon, J. You know you don’t have to hide anything anymore, right? You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not. It’s gone. It can’t hurt you anymore.”

J froze. How did Thad know any of that? He was just a worker drone. There was no way he could’ve just said that on a whim.

He was right. She knew that. But— how?-

“I, uh… I asked V, N, and Uzi to give me a run down on everything,” Thad admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t fully understand everything, but from what I got, it… sounded pretty rough. For all of you.”

J felt her legs start to shake. First, anger, but then confusion and relief, all hit at once. Someone knew, someone, for the most part, understood, wanted to understand, wanted to understand her. Her expression twisted, trying to keep the emotions at bay, but the softness of his voice, the tone, the look he was giving.

It all made her so weak, in such a good way.

J lowered her arms and hung her head, arms shaking, her fists clenched around the bunny plush.

“And yet, after all of what they told you, you still want to talk to me?” She asked incredulously, her voice shaking slightly.

“Of course I do. You were there for me when I was stuck in the woods, even if you were mostly mocking me.” He chuckled at the memory, then added, “I’m repaying the favor.”

J glanced away from him, hugging her arms.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Thad smiled up at her, then looked past her at the ship.

“What’re you working on?” He asked.

She followed his gaze, then groaned.

“The ship. I was repairing it after I blew it up- You know, as an… apology to V. And N and Uzi, I guess,” She explained, “But I just broke the only welder I had.”

“Oh!” Thad perked up. “Want me to go grab you one?”

J looked at him again, confused. “Why?”

Thad shrugged. “Why not? I don’t want you to be lonely out here forever, J.”

Her core shook.

“Be right back, kay?” He said, turning on his heel and sprinting back out of the spire.

J watched after him until he disappeared behind the corpse walls. She looked down at the snowy footprints he made in his wake, tracing her eyes over each ridge of the shoe tracks.

She turned back to the ship, her mind wandering as she hugged her arms.

Now that she thought about it more, Thad really did remind her so much of Tessa in many more ways that she thought. They were both so bright and bubbly all the time, yet they bruised so easily. They were fragile, one and the same yet two separate people. Two separate things.

She was athletic, just like him. He was kind, just like her. He smiled with his teeth, just like she did when she laughed. She would glow when she was happy, and so would he.

He made stupid jokes just like she would, and would sometimes mess with her just to get a reaction. J gripped her arms tighter and closed her eyes.

The day of the Gala. Tessa’s left arm was hurt. It was bruised, yet untreated. J wanted to help, but she couldn’t.

“I’m ‘right, J.” Tessa would tell her, smiling nervously and rubbing the bruise with her hand.

She could tell she wasn’t alright. It hurt still, even moreso emotionally, she figured. But J never got to express how much she cared, because in the end all she was to Tessa was a pet. Something to be admired and laugh at, something that wasn’t supposed to have or understand the same complex feelings that a human possessed.

J knew she was more than that.

Then, before she and Cyn had reached the cabin fever labs. She found Thad in the woods again, hunched over and sitting in the snow, holding his left leg tightly. When she walked over, he looked up at her and smiled.

“Hey! What’s up?” He’d say, cheerfully, attempting to mask the pain he was in, albeit terribly.

“What happened to your leg?” She would ask, sounding stern and uncaring, her arms crossed across her chest, portraying faux feelings of apathy toward him.

“Oh— It’s nothin. I’m alright, J.” He’d promised, smiling up at her nervously.

Her heart swelled. He even talked like her sometimes.

J opened her eyes again and looked up at the glittering stars above her, a complacent expression playing on her face.

It was a surprisingly clear night out that night, the stars clear and twinkling softly, looking back down at her.

Thad was everything Tessa was and more, wasn’t he? He cared about J. He wanted her to have friends, to learn how to live with them so she wouldn’t have to live alone forever, regretting the decisions she made and the pain she caused.

He held his hand out for her, much like Tessa did, but this time, as a friend. Not as an owner, guiding a lost dog to her home. Thad had picked her up despite her flaws and tendencies, to try and guide her down a path of love and joy.

Not to mention, he was as handsome as his personality. J would never admit it herself, but he looked nice. Nicer than most male worker drones she had come across and ultimately slaughtered. For a moment, she wondered why he, of all drones, had hair, despite most males not having any, from what she could tell. So full of mystery as well, wasn’t he?

Just then, J froze, her head snapping back down as she stared into the distance, her eyelights hollow and blush forming beneath them.

“…Oh no…” She said slowly, the realization kicking in. “No no no!” She exclaimed, hiding her hands in her face.

She had fallen for him. And hard. Either it was because he was so much like Tessa, or because he was just himself, it didn’t matter. She liked him; no, she loved him, just as she had Tessa.

But— how could he ever love her back? She tried to kill him— She tried to kill everyone. She sided with the thing that was trying to eat the planet and kill everyone else with it. N, V, and Uzi undoubtedly hate her, and worst of all— …She was a failure. All of this time trying to be the best, and she couldn’t even do one thing right.

She failed Tessa. She failed to be the best maid, she failed to keep her safe. She failed Cyn, and the company. She was sent to do a job, yet she couldn’t even complete it.

She was pathetic.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot broke her from her thoughts, a gentle tap on her shoulder.

She flinched and turned her head.

It was Thad, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

Don’t look at me like that.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m perfect!” J said, straightening her posture and turning to him, her tail swaying close to the ground. “Just fine.”

Thad tilted his head, then shrugged. He held out the welder to her.

“Here. Just don’t break it this time,” He joked.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah yeah”

J’s wings appeared from her back again and flared out as the anti-gravity jets roared to life, sending her up so she could gracefully land on the top of the landing pod again, carefully welding the metal pieces together. She watched Thad out of the corner of her eye.

He put his hands into his pockets and watched, leaning back and forth on his feet. Despite his body language, he didn’t look bored. He seemed more intrigued than anything, looking over the ship in its whole, or at least as whole as it was at the moment.

J glanced at him.

“Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go back to the bunker now?” She asked, putting on an annoyed facade.

“It’s the middle of the night, man,” Thad explained, “No one knows I’m here. And I don’t have to get to school for another two hours.”

J huffed. “Well, you better not distract me,” She said.

Please talk to me.

Thad put his hands up and nodded. “You got it, J.”

No, not like that. Stop acting like her.

J drew her eyes away from him and back at the metal she was welding, trying to focus. But her thoughts always went back to him. She couldn’t get him out of her head. Just the thought of hugging him was enough to make her mind spiral, and the idea of holding him made her feel like melting.

She was hyper aware of all movement in the area - a side effect that came from being a disassembly drone - so every small subtle move he made was enough to gain a glance from her. When he shifted his weight, or moved his hands, or took a few steps forward, she’d notice and look at him.

Suddenly, his words broke through the icy air.

“Hey, J.”

J glanced up at him, then back at her welding job.

“What?”

A smile slowly grew on Thad’s face, getting an idea.

“What’s this thing for anyway?” He asked, knocking on a metal panel, “Trying to build some kind of forest creature?”

J paused, looking at him in confusion. “You, of all people, should know what a space ship like this is for.”

Thad shrugged. “I mean, if you look at it from an angle, it kinda looks like a messed up spider.”

J simply rolled her eyes and returned to welding the metal panels. She moved to another support and lifted another metal panel, holding it against the metal already attached to the ship.

Thad seemed to stare at her for a moment, then glanced away.

It was times like these where J wished solver granted them the power of mind reading. She wanted to know what was going on inside that little brain of his. Two out of her six eyes squinted at him, the remaining four focused on the welding.

The only thing that filled the air was the crackle of the welder and the howling of the wind for a moment, until Thad interrupted.

“Hey, JJ!” He called.

“What, Thad?” She asked, the eyes on her display deadpanning.

“I bet your humor is as hard to catch as a frisbee in the wind!” He said with full confidence, a wide dorky grin on his face, his hands on his hips.

Stop doing that. Stop being like her. What is wrong with you?

J stifled a smile and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well maybe you aren’t trying hard enough.”

“Ooh, playing hard to get! I like it!” He teased, pointing at her with finger-guns and winking, “Challenge accepted.”

J shook her head. What was he doing? What challenge? What was the point of this? What was he going to gain out of this?

J’s mind raced so much, she nearly welded her hand to the ship.

Now he was doing the one thing she told him not to do. Distract her. Granted, him merely being there was enough to distract her at first, so maybe he wasn’t at fault.

“Ooh! I got a good one,” He said, a mischievous look in his eyes as he rubbed his hands together.

“What’s white and has wheels?” He asked, anticipation in his voice.

J paused for a moment, thinking. She tilted her head slightly. In all the jokes that Tessa had told her, this was one she was unfamiliar with. Her mind went to the first most logical answer she could think of.

“A bike?” She said, hesitating.

“The snow! I lied about the wheels!” Thad basically shouted, throwing his arms into the air with a large grin across his face. She noticed that some of his teeth were strangely sharp.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” She said, rolling her eyes and returning to her welding.

“Sure it does!” Thad said with a snicker, “You gotta stop thinking so literally about everything, J.”

She stopped, if only for a moment. She remembered when Tessa had told her that, after making a dumb joke like that, with the same gesture and the same, proud grin.

Her grip tightened on the welding tool.

Thad paced around, thinking of what to try next. She glanced at him.

Seriously, what was he doing? He kept saying random jokes, despite the fact she told him not to distract her. It’s not like she was going to do anything to stop him, she liked the jokes, it just—

WOAH. No! She did not like the jokes! She didn’t like jokes! Jokes were stupid and wasted time— There wasn’t any point to them, they made no sense—

Suddenly, she heard a thud and flinched, breaking her from her thoughts once again. Her head snapped to the sound, only to see Thad stumble back from one of the ship’s legs and fall into the snow, holding his foot with a pained expression.

J couldn’t help but snicker at his misfortune, confused but delighted.

He opened an eye and looked up at her, surprised to hear her snickering. She turned her head away quickly and covered her mouth, stifling her laughter.

She lowered her head and shook it, trying to keep herself calm. Behind her, she heard Thad call her name. She looked up and turned her head to him, curious.

Right as she turned her head to him, he began sprinting up a mound of snow, only to purposefully slip and tumble down the mound, landing on his stomach. He looked up at her expectantly.

J simply stared at Thad, her eyelights half-lidded. She shook her head and averted her attention back to her welding. She was almost done with the panel.

Honestly, watching him get thrown around was kind of funny, especially since he was throwing himself around. All that, just to get her to-

The realization hit her like a bowling ball.

Those silly jokes, the stupid looks, the dumb actions that would end in him getting hurt— they were all for her. To get her to laugh and ‘loosen up a little,’ as Tessa would put it.

Dear God, he’s just like her. Why is he so much like her? What is wrong with him?!

“Oh!” Thad suddenly exclaimed, causing J to stop welding. It was alright, though. She had just finished a panel.

She groaned, trying her hardest to keep her front up, and hopped off the ship, picking up another panel.

“What did one corporate say to the other?” Thad asked, excited to tell the joke, eagerness in his voice.

J raised an eyebrow as she shook the panel off, dusting snow from it. She was intrigued this time. Thad didn’t seem the type to know anything about corporations.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing, because they’re bad at diplomacy!” He announced proudly, almost way too excited to see her reaction.

J stifled her laughter, quickly raising the new panel over her face so he wouldn’t see the look on her face.

She was smiling because of his dumb joke. It was funny, of course it was funny, and it made sense- and she was sure Thad picked up on her attempt to cover her laugh.

She tried to play it off, lunging back onto the pod with the panel in hand. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Thad’s goofy grin, and knew that trying to hide it had already failed.

A silence fell between the two of them as Thad began to pace, presumably thinking of more jokes, scratching his chin. Whenever he’d think of one, he’d stop and blurt it out. Of course, most of his jokes needed her to respond, but J didn’t mind that.

With each joke, J would giggle just a little bit more than before, even snorting quietly once. She couldn’t help it.

The way he delivered each joke with enthusiasm and the tone of a comedian, his stupid, adorable little face, full of excitement and pure joy, his face brightening whenever he’d hear her giggles.

She had to admit, his charm was irresistible.

She slowly began to forget her worries, forgetting how much Thad and Tessa had in common.

After a prolonged silence, Thad stopped in his pacing again.

“Oh! What do you do if you get the bird flu?” He asked, that same silly grin playing on his face.

J leaned back and looked at him with a smile. “What?”

“You get— …Uh…” Thad trailed off, glancing at the snow.

“Wait, I— I forgot the punchline,” He chuckled softly as he spoke, furrowing his brows as he tried to remember.

J snickered. “Take your time.” She said smugly, turning back to her welding.

Silence fell between the two again as he wracked his brain, trying to remember. J almost forgot he had even started to set up a punchline.

Suddenly, Thad’s head jolted back up as he shouted.

“Tweetment!” He exclaimed, his voice so loud it echoed through the barren outdoors.

J finally couldn’t hold in her giggles anymore, a hearty laugh erupting from her throat as she leaned back from the spot she was welding. Her legs slipped, sending her careening off of the pod and into the snow, still laughing and smiling, snorting every once in a while.

Thad grinned at her, admiring her smile and the way she laughed. He loved every snort, every giggle, every time she would roll on the ground, clutching her sides as she couldn’t stop from laughing.

He had succeeded in getting her to let loose, at least for now.

He chuckled, approaching her from the side and leaning forward slightly to hover over her face, placing his hands on his knees.

“It’s nice to see you smile like this, Jaybird,” He said softly, his expression kind and full of adoration.

J’s heart exploded in her chest, butterflies in her stomach as her eyelights hollowed at what he had just said.

Tessa’s voice echoed in her head.

“It’s nice t’see ya smile like this, Jaybird!”

That same smile. That same nickname. That same damned expression and tone of joy and pride. Those damned green eyes.

J quickly sat up and shoved his face away, turning away from him and curling up in a ball, her hands on her head.

Thad yelped and stumbled back slightly, trying not to fall.

Damn it all! Why do you have to be like this, you stupid toaster! Why? …Why me? Is this my punishment? Is this what I get?

Her mind raced, a swirl of emotions, anger and sorrow and melancholy, her core pounding in her ears.

“J?” Thad asked, concerned, rubbing his face.

She didn’t respond, her arms beginning to tremble.

She hated him. No, she hated herself. How could she let this happen? How could she allow herself to fall so heavily for this little drone? He was so much like Tessa, yet so different at the same time. She craved to hear his voice and feel his touch all the same as she did with Tessa, yet somehow stronger.

Thad’s worry only grew as he stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon, Jaybird, talk to me. What’s up?” He asked again.

That stupid nickname!

He was so much like her. But what if he was too much like her? What if she had fallen for someone with the same quirks and personality and phrases as her first crush, just for them to be ripped away again? Just for her heart to be taken and stomped on and spit on all over again? What if he didn’t like her back? What if he was just there because he thought she was pitiful?

“…You’re so much like her,” J finally muttered, not lifting her head, her voice shaking. Despite her doubts, despite everything— she decided to tell Thad what was going on. Maybe not about how badly she wanted to kiss him, though. Not yet.

“…What?” Thad responded, sitting next to her in the snow.

“Tessa. Cyn was wearing her skin, you know.”

Thad’s eyebrows raised. “…Oh.”

J chuckled sadly, hugging her legs. “I’m such an idiot, Thad.”

She paused for a moment, waiting for Thad to react, though he didn’t.

“I sided with that thing because I thought there was no point in fighting. I knew what it could do. V and I both did.” She sniffled. “It toyed with us. It used us to slaughter billions, all three of us.”

As she began to explain, Thad sat beside her and rubbed comforting circles on her back, listening closely.

“It used us to kill Tess’s family. It used us to kill her. It wore her skin like a badge… I still remember her screams.”

Finally, J’s head lifted. She looked out at the snow, her eyelights hollow, digital tears wavering in the corners of them.

“…I tried to fight back, Thad. Before all of this— I wanted to stop it. But I never won. It would always kill me and then clone me again. There was no escape, even in death.” J paused again, then huffed. “Guess I was wrong.”

it became silent between the two. The air around them turned sour, dampened by J’s experiences.

She sniffled and sobbed, internally berating herself for being so vulnerable in front of a stupid adorable worker drone. She was pathetic.

“…Geez,” Thad finally muttered, “I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I was in your situation.”

J didn’t say anything.

“I… I don’t think you did anything wrong, J.”

She turned her head to him.

“Sure, you made some mistakes,” Thad said, shrugging, “but you were just scared. You did what you thought was right, even if it wasn’t the best. Everyone makes mistakes.”

J stared at him. “How can you not be mad at me?”

Thad thought for a moment, glancing at the stars. Then, he looked back at her. “Because everyone has their own story. You were forced to kill someone you were super close to. You gave up, because you couldn’t fight back. You only wanted to survive.”

He paused, then smiled. “In the end, that’s all any of us want, right? That’s why the Worker Drones fled under the ice when you guys showed up.”

J looked into his lime green eyes. Her heart swelled. He was genuine. He didn’t hate her. He actually understood her. He was finally someone who cared enough to see her side of the story, to listen to her grief and fear and empathize.

Something Tessa failed to do.

Tears welled up in her eyes again as she dropped her head back into her knees, hugging her legs.

Thad frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. He gently leaned on her, awkwardly slinging his arm around her shoulders and patting her arm.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, J,” He reassured, speaking slowly and softly.

Stop doing that.

She hated this. She hated being vulnerable like this, sobbing pathetically into her knees while a Worker Drone leaned on her, comforting her. She hated that it was working. She hated that she needed comfort. She had said it before, she would say it again. She didn’t need anybody.

…But deep down, she knew that wasn’t true. Without someone to boss her around, what was she worth? If she couldn’t do a job, what was the point? That was the real reason she had started to put that stupid pod back together.

Most of all, J hated how much she crumbled around Thad. She hated how much he reminded her of Tessa, and how she fell for him just like she did her. Just because they cared. Just because they were trying to save her from a terrible path. She hated how pathetic she was.

She was suddenly broken from her thoughts by the sound of an alarm. She hadn’t even realized she stopped crying. How long were they sitting there for?

Thad jolted upright, slapping his face.

“Crap! I stayed out too long! I’m sorry, J, but I gotta bolt!” He said in a panic, quickly scrambling to his feet.

J perked up as well, but quickly turned, her knees hitting the snow as she reached up and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait!” She called.

He stopped and looked back at her, surprised.

She looked back up at him. Blush spread across her visor as her jaw hung open, eyelights hollow.

Wait. What am I doing?! She thought, panic rushing through her wiring.

“…Uh… P…Please… don’t leave me.” She asked quietly, glancing away, “I… I, uh… I feel better when I’m around you, Thad.”

She groaned and pulled her hand away, covering her face.

“God, I’m so pathetic, aren’t I…?” She asked no one in particular.

Thad didn’t seem to move for a second. Then, he dropped down onto his knees and gently grabbed her hands, pulling them off her face with a soft smile.

“No no, it’s okay! What’s one missed day of school, right?” He shrugged, “It’s Friday anyway. I’ll stay. I promise.”

J looked at him in the eyes, her processor running at two miles an hour. She felt so conflicted— she wanted him to stay, but her pride— like it wasn’t already damaged enough— but it’s a Worker Drone! I don’t need pity from a worker drone—

“…Thank you.” She muttered, cracking a small smile.

Thad smiled back.

“No probbles.”

J snickered.

“Such a dumb abbreviation.”

She didn’t care. She could sit like this for the rest of forever.

HOOLLLYYY SHIIIT. LONGEST ONE OF THESE EVER I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL OF YOUR DASHBOARDS. ANYWAY. I'm so sorry this took fucking ages to complete, my personal life has been so so busy.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ANYWAY!! This was so so much fun to write, I love exploring J's character. AUGH. Don't worry Thad eventually helps her get over Tessa :D

Also so sorry to all the people who are waiting on their requests , especially to those who have been waiting since August. Life has been busy and I've been unmotivated. I'm hoping to get back to it whenever I can though!!!!

~~~~~~~

Prompt Post! Lizzy x Doll; "Stay with me forever"/"Because I love you!" N x V; "I thought you didn't want me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" V x Thad; "I'm in love with you" V x Thad "I missed you so much"/"I can't stay away from you" N x Thad; "Can I kiss you?" N x Thad; "I want you. Only you." V x Thad; "I thought you didn't want me." Sam x Uzi; "The way I feel with you"/"I can't stay away from you." Uzi x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'll always love you" N x Thad; "Please marry me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" N x Uzi; "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"/"I'm better when I'm with you" J x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'm better when I'm with you." <- You are here!

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Kink List With Juraj Slafkovsky

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He is affectionate and attentive. He is a good listener, and he will always be there to comfort and reassure you. He enjoys spending time with you, aftercare is important to him, and he aims to provide a safe and supportive environment for you to feel loved and valued.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of his body would be his hands, as they are powerful tools for both creating and making you feel good. As for you, he particularly enjoys your curves and soft skin, which he loves to run his hands over and caress in intimate encounters.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He usually likes to cum deep inside. It feels so much better when he can fill you up completely. But if you'd want him to aim somewhere in mind just have to ask.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

A dirty secret of his is that he is secretly attracted to partners who are dominant and assertive in bed, and he loves to be dominated by them. He finds it exhilarating when a person takes control and shows him who owns him, leaving him helpless to your whims. It makes him feel a feeling of excitement and anticipation that is hard to describe. It can be a little bit taboo, but who doesn't love a little bit of taboo?

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He'd consider himself to be an experienced and skilled lover, and he knows what he's doing in the bedroom. He's had plenty of partners and he's learned what turns him on and how to satisfy his partner's needs. He takes pride in being an attentive and sensual lover, and he's always looking for new ways to enhance your sexual experiences.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His favorite sex position is missionary. He loves the intimacy and connection of this position, and it provides a great opportunity for eye contact and kissing. It also allows him to take control of the situation and provide a satisfying experience for you. He also enjoys experimenting with other positions, such as doggy style and cowgirl, which provide a different sensation and angle of penetration. He's open to trying out others.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He can be both serious and humorous in the moment. it's important to create a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere during sex, and humor can be a great way to relax and establish a connection with you. At the same time, he's also able to take the moment seriously and become immersed in the experience. He can easily switch between these two modes as needed.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He'd consider himself to be well-groomed and well-kept. The carpet does match the drapes, as he keeps his pubic hair trimmed and maintained. He also makes sure to keep his body hair in check, so he's always looking his best for you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

During the moment, he's typically very romantic. He likes to set the mood with candles and soft music, and he's always attentive to your needs and desires. In bed, he likes to take things slowly and build anticipation, so by the time you get to the main event, you're both feeling warmed up and ready.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

The frequency of his masturbation varies depending on his mood and level of stress. I'd say that he typically does it around 3-4 times per week, but there are times when he may go longer periods without doing it, and there are also times when he may do it more often. He thinks it's important to listen to his body and understand when he feels the urge and when it's best.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's open to exploring a variety of kinks in the bedroom, including bondage, spanking, role-playing, and power dynamics. He likes to experiment and find new ways to spice up your sexual experiences. He also enjoys exploring other kinks such as temperature play, impact play, and edging.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He doesn't have a particular favorite place to do the do, but he likes to switch it up and add variety to your sex life. Some favorite places include the bedroom, the living room, the shower, and the kitchen counter. He also enjoys the outdoors in nature, where the risk of getting caught adds an exhilarating feeling to the experience.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

What really turns him on and gets him going is when you know exactly what you want and aren't afraid to ask for it. He loves it when a person knows their desire, and when you express it confidently and unapologetic. Seeing you assert your power and being able to express yourself authentically is a huge turn-on for him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There are a few things that he would say are turn-offs for him. One is being too demanding, or expecting your partner to have all of the answers and being unrealistic with the expectations. He also is not a big fan of jealousy or control, as it can be toxic and lead to unhealthy dynamics in a relationship.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He does have a preference for giving. There's nothing more satisfying than seeing you completely lose yourself in the moment, and knowing that he has given you that experience. However, he also enjoys receiving and being able to relax and let himself be taken care of. As for skill, I would say that he's skilled in both giving. Loves it when you tell him that he always makes you feel cared for and satisfied and that he pays great attention to detail when it comes to your desires.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can go either way. He really enjoys both fast and rough, as it's hot and exciting. He also loves slow and sensual, as it can be more intimate and tender. Depends on the mood and the situation.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He thinks that quickies can be fun and exciting, but they're not the best substitute for proper sex. Quickies are usually done for convenience, rather than quality and intimacy. It's more about getting off quickly rather than taking the time to really enjoy the experience. On the other hand, proper sex involves more foreplay and build-up, and it's about taking the time to really explore each other's bodies and needs. So he'll think that quickies are fine sometimes, but quality is better than quantity.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's definitely game to experiment and take risks. He thinks that experimenting can lead to new and exciting experiences, and taking risks is what helps make life enjoyable and exciting. So he's definitely open to trying new things and stepping outside his comfort zone.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go for multiple rounds, depending on his energy levels and the situation. I'd say that an average session lasts between 45 minutes to an hour, but it can vary depending on the amount of foreplay and the intensity of the sex.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He does own some toys, and he uses them for mainly you. He enjoys having some variety in sexual experiences, and finds the use of toys provides a fun and stimulating addition. He likes to experiment with different kinds of toys and find that it adds an element of variety and spice to the sexual activities.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. It's all about building excitement and anticipation, and the payoff is so worth it. He enjoys teasing you by saying suggestive things or making subtle touches that leave you longing for more. He gets off on seeing you wanting him and craving his attention. It's like an art form, and he takes pride in his ability to tease and flirt with you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He tends to be fairly vocal and expressive during sex. He likes to engage in lots of noises and vocalizations, such as grunts, moans, and praises, which express his pleasure and satisfaction. It adds this element of intimacy and connection, as it conveys his enjoyment of the moment and show you how much you're turning him on.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He's really into the idea of watching porn together. Especially if it's something that you'd both find really hot. The thought of getting off together while watching some sexy scenes really turns him on.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His cock is quite large and thick, with a perfect curve and a perfect head that always gets his partners off instantly. It's always hard and ready to go, standing at an impressive 8 inches long when fully erect. The shaft is covered in velvety soft skin that feels incredibly warm against any touch, while the head is always dripping with precum that makes it even more irresistible.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I would say that his sex drive is fairly high. He likes to have sex on a regular basis and typically finds himself looking forward to it. He finds the physical and emotional connection that comes with sex to be very fulfilling and satisfying.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually falls asleep pretty quickly after sex. During the act, he's all worked up and excited, but once it's over, his body usually relaxes and he drifts off into a deep sleep. He finds that he gets some of his best and most restful sleep after a good session of lovemaking. It's like his body is at peace and sated by the experience.

#juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky #montreal canadiens #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #kink list

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skylarsblue · 2 years ago

Text

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

~✦Part Two✦~

✧Alejandro, Rodolfo, König, Alex✧ ✦GN!Reader, mostly fluff, mild descriptions of wounds/combat/war, random call signs and some use of y/n, minor sexual tension, inconsistencies with canon timelines because I'm better than the games(/j), I started this before König was called a colonel, poorly translated Spanish & German that I apologize for (correct me please-)✦

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Civilians let out screams and ducked into houses to hide. Tan colored vans and trucks lined the streets of Mexico as shots were fired. The moments of quiet were as worrisome as the sounds of gunfire in a situation like this. Alejandro cursed as yet another man declared their ammo low. They were running out, at the rate they were going, they’d need to pull back. Alejandro was a stubborn man, however, and bowing down to a cartel would’ve done damage to the credibility of his men, along with his own ego. “Colonel, there’s a car coming in. Unmarked.” His radio crackled with the information. “Aye, watch it. Keep looking. Does it look like the enemy?” Alejandro replied, getting a negative in response. As if there wasn’t a risk of fire being brought out, the car stopped in the middle of a paused stand off. Out of the vehicle stepped one person, dressed in a way that stood out completely. “What in the hell is this?” Alejandro hissed as he watched the civilian look around. They were wearing a mask of porcelain, decorated elegantly with gold paint, almost like a statue of crying Virgin Mary. He locked eyes with them, and they…motioned for him to pause. “What do we do?” The soldier beside Alejandro asked. “Sir, I think I know who this is.” His radio called. He watched as the stranger turned to confused members of the enemy, raising their hand to the sky. Three fingers, two, and then one. The cartel’s side of the street blew up and the stranger ran for cover. “Mierda! What the fuck is happening?!” A soldier exclaimed. Alejandro’s radio triggered again with enthusiastic laughter. “Resistance sir, the one I’ve been telling you about!” The colonel took a breath. “The one run by civilians? How’d they set this up?” He asked roughly, aiming his gun to take a shot. “They’re smart, sir. That one you saw? That’s their leader. A talk with them would be a good idea, they’re a powerful ally, a stronger bond could prove useful.” Alejandro looked across the field in awe as the stranger took out a few more cartel soldiers. They then looked at him, giving him a nod and a salute. For the first time that day, Alejandro smiled. “A strong ally indeed.”

(I make them speak mostly English so I avoid making mistakes in Spanish, I'm sorry-) It had been a month since that day, and three weeks since Alejandro & Rudy had properly met the mysterious masked individual. They'd proven themselves rather charming, even if a bit suspicious. Alejandro had been rather excited to meet the individual who'd managed to secretly gather well-trained civilians to aid them against the cartel, pulling stunts like they did before. Though their real name was a heavily guarded secret, much like their face, they did have a name of sorts to associate with them. Los Lares, in reference to Roman mythological deities that provided protection. Their leader, the masked individual, known only as Padres, though occasional nicknames popped up from individuals they were close with. Alejandro had done his best to assess whether they were trust worthy or not, they did the same to him. And after two successful mini missions, Padres agreed to show Alejandro, Rudy, and some of his men what they'd been hiding. "Well would you look at this..." Alejandro said quietly as they drove through a small village. Guarded heavily with armed civilians was a tiny town commandeered by Los Lares, rather than the cartel. Kept safe from the carnage in the rest of Las Almas. The car rolled through slowly, allowing them to gaze at buildings without bullet holes, covered in colorful decorations. Children ran around playfully, adults standing around and talking, some small market carts on the edge of the street that gave out fresh food and household items. Music playing over speakers. Not a single skull balaclava in sight. Rudy pulled over and parked by a building at the end of the long street. The shell of a church it seemed. Outside of it was Padres, running around with children on their tail. When they noticed the men that had pulled up, they declared for the children to play on their own for a bit. Alejandro couldn't stop his smile as he continued looking around, eyes falling back on them. "This is what you meant by Sanctuary." He said. "Si, I made it myself. No violence occurs here, no fear. How it should be." They explained. "Rodolfo. My second in command, Emil, wanted to discuss things with you, if you wouldn't mind." Padres said, motioning to the man behind them. Rudy looked at Alejandro, who nodded. Rudy walked off after that and left them alone. "I see why you were so secretive now." Alejandro stated, watching them nod. "It usually takes a lot longer to be allowed access here. But I knew you'd be trust worthy." They explained as they leaned against the jeep he'd arrived in. He crossed his arms and leaned on the car as well. "And when did you decide this?" He asked. Padres chuckled and blinked at him past the holes of their mask. He wondered how eye contact alone could make him feel so warm, tingly. "I met your gaze during that gun fight and I could tell. You have the light of angels, querido." They purred. Alejandro chuckled quietly and shook his head fondly. "¿Coqueteando? ¿De verdad?" He asked in a hushed voice, leaned in slightly. They raised both hands in mock surrender. "I see a lot in your eyes, Colonel. Many, many things. Tu disfrute es uno." They teased. Alejandro ran his tongue over his teeth. "Si? I see things in your eyes too." He replied. Padres tilted their head and silently urged him to elaborate. Alejandro let out a breath and smiled. "Peligro. Mucho." He exhaled, senses lit aflame when he saw the distinct signs of a smile hidden behind the mask.

Alejandro enjoyed when he had time to visit the sanctuary Padres had created. There was so much joy around and peace filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like his shoulders could relax. That he could be at ease. In his visits, he often saw families, children running around with big grins, hearing the innocent laughter always brought Alejandro joy and a sense of longing. He'd always been the familial type with a large soft spot for kids. It showed in his actions, like currently, as he let two boys hang off of his arms like some playground equipment. They giggled and squealed in jovial fun as he hoisted them higher, though he set them down gently when their mother's face grew a bit apprehensive. It was when a little girl, leading a group of children, asked to play hide & seek that things really got to be fun. Alejandro found himself hiding under a table in one of the homes, another child at his side. He held his finger to his lips as they giggled away behind their hands. Both of them seized up when evenly spaced footsteps made themselves present, too heavy for a child. Alejandro had a quick flash of memories that made his body tense up, watching the table cloth be lifted. But it wasn't an enemy, nor a child, but instead a porcelain mask with a smiling individual underneath. "Room for one more?" They asked in a whisper. Alejandro blinked before he snickered and nodded. Both he and the child carefully scooted back to allow Padres more room. "Isn't our hiding spot good, Padres?" The child asked excitedly. "Si, Rosa, it is. I almost couldn't find you both." They replied in a tone akin to a praising mother, something that made Alejandro's chest ache. "What gave us away?" He asked them, smiling wider when they glanced his way. "Your boots, colonel. Your laces were untied, they poked out from underneath." They answered, prompting Alejandro to look. Sure enough, his left boot lace was untied. He sighed and shook his head at the rookie mistake, still grinning however. A beat of silence passed before a rush of tiny footsteps came in, prompting the three to be extra quiet. "Got'cha!!" The little girl declared as she lifted the table cloth. Rosa screamed and laughed, quickly getting up to run away. Both Alejandro and Padres stayed, watching Rosa make a swift get away from her friend running after her. Leaving them both alone under the table. "You are good with kids." The self-appointed commander said fondly. Alejandro melted at the sentiment alone, it always felt like one of the highest level compliments when someone said it. Even more so coming from them. "Gracias, Padres." He said, only for them to shake their head. "Y/N. My name is Y/N, when we are alone, you may call me that." They said softly, leaving Alejandro surprised. The shock wore off quickly and a pleasant tenderness filled the air, showing in their shared gaze. "Losing the mystery, aye?" He asked. "No, merely trusting you with my secrets. I trust I made a good decision?" They replied. Alejandro nodded. "Now I just have to get that mask off of you." He teased. They gave a quiet laugh. "I can't wait..."

It was always nice to celebrate after a successful mission, especially one as high stakes as this. With a large threat neutralized, it seemed like a big party was the right answer. There was a large hand of help from Los Lares, and the citizens who called the refuge home saw it only right to allow Alejandro's men into their sanctuary, to indulge in their victory with loud music and home cooked meals. Alcohol as well, of course. Alejandro stood on a roof and watched the streets below, lit up with colorful lights and bustling with music. He felt his shoulders relax as he watched his soldiers mingle, laughing loudly, raising toasts to their lost brothers & sisters. He took a swig of beer as his gaze shifted to the sky, full of twinkling stars. He went to take another drink, only to find the bottle empty. He debated going back down to grab another one, only to feel a hand rest on his lower back. He flinched and looked over, met with a familiar mask and a kind gaze. "Need another, colonel?" Y/N asked softly, holding up an open beer. Alejandro chuckled and took it, setting the empty one on the roof's edge. "Gracias. How'd you know?" He asked. He turned his body to watch them, even spaced steps taking them to a couple of supply crates. They took a seat and shrugged, he could feel their calm smile in their aura. "Lucky guess. You weren't down there, spotted you up here and I figured you'd like some company. Was I right?" They asked with a head tilt. He walked closer with an exhale. "Yes and no." He answered. They silently encouraged him to elaborate, tilting their head to look up at him as he came to stand in front of them. "Oh?" Alejandro chuckled and set the beer down beside them. "I was looking forward to your company." He admitted. Even in the low light of the moon, he could see their pupils expand. "Such a charmer, Mr.Vargas." They teased in a hushed tone. He rose his hands with a quiet laugh. "Interesting choice in company, however. An individual with no face for you to name." They said. Alejandro's face softened. There was a short beat of silence that seemed to last forever, finally a peaceful moment without the worry of being killed, allowing him to admire them properly, despite the mask. He then remembered their promise, the words spoken to him to keep his morale high when things were looking bleak. So, though he was careful, he rose his hands to their face, cautiously grazing the edge of the mask with his fingers. "Is that right?" He whispered. They didn't move back or scold him, merely kept his eyes locked with theirs in a look that sent shivers down his spine, even as he edge the mask up. It was pulled away and in an instant, they were exposed fully. Alejandro let out a breath and forgot to inhale afterward. Their smile caused his lungs to constrict in tight thorns. "Well? ¿Algo que decir, coronel?" They asked, and though their tone was cool, he could see the flinch of fear. The anxiety of rejection. He took his free hand to brush over their cheekbone, feeling warm skin instead of cold glass. "Peligrosa… peligrosamente hermosa." He whispered back. They snorted. "How cheesy..." They teased again, tilting their head up to meet him halfway.

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Rodolfo’s eyes cracked open, he let out a short wheeze. He wasn’t all there, but he was keenly aware of a large commotion outside. He could faintly recall his mission and how he ended up with the throbbing in the back of his head. An RPG hit the building he was in just right and it knocked him out cold. Astigmatism disrupted his vision and his limbs felt heavy. He winced when a light came from the side, the sun, beaming through as the broken door was shoved off. He blinked, and there was someone he’d never seen before. They weren’t really dressed for battle, wearing a decorated porcelain mask with a rifle strapped to their back. Rudy’s hand twitched for his gun before they hushed him, placing their hand on his arm. “Tranquilo ahí, cariño. I’m on your side.” They said gently before turning their head to shout some orders at an unseen person. They turned back to him and cautiously turned his head, clicking their tongue sympathetically as he whined. “Took quite a hit, huh? Don’t worry, we have help on the way and your friends and mine have almost cleared out the enemy.” They took out a flashlight, shining it in his eyes When his pupils responded normally, they put the flashlight away and called out some more orders. Rodolfo decided to try and sit up but he barely moved before nearly falling back on the floor. They caught him by the back of his neck. “Easy, pretty boy. Don’t make yourself worse.” They said, gently guiding him to sit up with their support. Rudy blinked and groaned. He got a better look at them now, pushing past his dry mouth to try and speak. “You…you are the ally Alejandro mentioned…” he grunted. Their eyes scrunched, indicating a smile. “That’s right, dear. And I’ll get you out of here. You can trust me on that.” They promised.

Rodolfo carefully scratched around the edge of a bandage on his head, huffing when Alejandro lightly flicked his hand, scolding him for fidgeting with it. "I'm healing fine." He said quietly, glancing at the map on the table in front of them. "Still, shouldn't mess with it." Alejandro replied with a caring pat to his shoulder. They were waiting in a planning/common room in the main base of their new adversaries, a civilian led resistance against the cartel. Rudy recalled the way they carefully held him steady when they'd found him, after he'd been knocked unconscious. Alejandro swore they were trustworthy, and so far, they'd definitely been helpful. Alejandro stood more straight when the door swung open and Padres entered the room, a few of their men behind them. The two of them overheard the leader scolding a civie-soldier for not eating breakfast before they turned to the two friends. They were dressed more casually than the other times they'd met. Looking liked they'd just been dragged out of bed, actually. And although they seemed sleepy, still in slippers even, they still bore their mysterious porcelain mask. "Apologies, my alarm didn't go off." Padres apologized in a gentle tone. Alejandro chuckled and shook his head. "You all there yet, Padres?" He asked, smiling when they waved their hand, approaching the table. "I can still explain my plan to you, si." They replied before yawning, Rudy smiled as they went to cover their mouth for the sake of manners, despite the face covering. Their eyes landed on him and he could see the signs of a smile in their gaze. "Ah, chico lindo, how's your head?" They asked. Rodolfo felt his cheeks warm at the nickname, they hadn't been subtle when he first met them either. "Fine, just sore." He replied. At that moment, the quiet mutterings of a man who'd come in for some coffee hit the room. A soldier named Ramirez. Whispering about Rodolfo's skills, trying to imply he wasn't a true soldier for being wounded "so easily", which made another snicker. Rudy didn't show a reaction to it, Alejandro scowled, but both men jumped when Padres gasped. With skilled precision, they flicked their slipper from their foot and caught it from the air, launching it in the direction of Ramirez. A perfect headshot as the slipper smacked the back of the soldier's skull. Alejandro and Rudy shared a look, recalling their own experiences with the all feared chancla. "Debería darte vergüenza! These men give their life everyday for the sake of our country, they were fighting before you were given your status in my army, show some respect! You will not disrespect this man again, do you understand me?!" They shouted, finger pointed. The man shrank, rubbing the back of his head. "Si, commander." Padres put their hands on their hips. Ramirez approached with their slipper, which Padres snatched from his grip, dropping it on the floor so they could it back on. "Now apologize for your insolence." They demanded, pointing at Rudy. Both Rodolfo and Alejandro watched with wide eyes as a grown man, tall and buff, turned with his head down like an embarrassed child, muttering an apology. Rudy swallowed and let it go, unable to look away from the mysterious individual who'd defended him so valiantly. They'd been so gentle and sweet. Rudy felt his mouth grow dry and his stomach twist as they sent Ramirez away with a wave of their hand. With a breath and a headshake, they turned to face him again, smiling once more. "Now, let's get this done, alright?" They asked. Rudy nodded, not missing the teasing glance Alejandro gave him.

It was sweltering, as expected for a Mexican Summer. The speedy movement and adrenaline of avoiding gunfire only added to the discomfort. There were still cartel members outside, but at a distance. There was quiet for a moment, excluding Rodolfo's breathing being hissed through his teeth. A bullet had skidded past the back of his hand, tearing through his glove and leaving blood running down his arm. He was sat on the floor of an abandoned house, jacket discarded and shirt sleeve rolled past his elbow. "I know it stings, but you'll be alright." His ally, Padres, spoke softly to him past their mask. He nodded and leaned his head back against the wall, watching them dig through a bag for medical supplies. He held his hand up to lessen blood flow, letting it run across the dips in his muscled forearm. "How is it that every time you find me, I'm bleeding?" The man asked with a playful tone, smiling slightly when they snickered. "Well, mi tonto y querido soldado. It's because you're a reckless fool." Their thumb pressed into the area around the wound, making him wince, looking them in the eye. Their gaze was sharper than before, although not malicious. "You are so smart but so, so very stupid sometimes." They shook their head, taking away the pressure from his hand, holding it cautiously now. "You're swift, you're experienced, you're intelligent. But you're hot headed, and sometimes you get too focused on a goal to realize you're stepping on a land mine. It amazes me you're not more battered than you are." Their concern was warranted and their praise was met with warmth in his face. He swallowed and looked back at them again as they examined his wound, slowly rising their gaze to him again. He could see the signs of a gentle smile in their eyes. They hushed him soothingly when his hissed at the sting of disinfectant. His hand twitched involuntarily from the odd feeling on his nerves. "You have a point." He sighed, looking at their surroundings for a moment. He let out a short laugh after a few seconds of silence. "At least you're always near by to fix me up, no? I seem to heal faster when you're caring for my wounds." He muttered, feeling his stomach twist with an exciting bout of nerves. He wasn't much of a flirting type, and he tried to keep it subtle enough in case he'd been misreading. Padres chuckled fondly as they pressed down a bandage around his arm, kindly wiping away the blood. "Not the first to have told me that." They said fondly. With one last look at his hand, the clicked their tongue as they took in the damage. "Your hand will likely be difficult to use for until it's healed. We'll need to speed up that process." Rudy rose an eyebrow, confused. His eyes widened when they lifted their mask slightly, just enough to expose their mouth. It was hard to remember to breathe as a care kiss was placed over the bandage, he swore he could feel the burn of their lips past the layers, seeping into his wound and sending shocks in his blood. "Stay vigilant, chico lindo, I need you in peak condition."

(tw; war and brief mentions of wounds) Rodolfo panted heavily as he vaulted through a broken window, feeling perspiration on his skin from the heat of fire and exercise as he continued to sprint through a broken down building. There was bloodshed, naturally, it came with the job. But there was something in his stomach that twisted as he worried he'd find their body amongst those empty of souls. He'd promised to be more careful, but he'd dropped that worry as soon as their mic cut out. The fight had died down and an evac was only two miles away, but he demanded proof of their demise before he'd step anywhere near it. The man's steps crackled over broken glass and after the constant rain of bullets, the silence felt all the more deafening. His ears rang with a high pitched whine that he tried to ignore, listening for anything amongst the worrying stillness. He felt hope dwindle as seconds tic down, until he heard the sound of moving rubble in a room he'd yet to check. It could've been an enemy, perhaps it wasn't them, but despite the risk he rushed over and pushed the broken door out of his way. His breath left his lungs with weight as he saw their back, struggling to push themselves up. "Oh, gracias a Dios, estás vivo." Rudy said as he rushed over. A cruel sense of deja vu hit him as he gently guided them into sitting up, their hands covering their face. They groaned quietly, leaning against him for support. Rudy took a quick glance around, seeing pieces of their iconic mask broken. "Where are you wounded? Evac isn't far, what do you need?" He asked, only to hear them let out a strained chuckle. Slowly, blood covered hands stopped covering their visage. Air punched out of his chest as he finally got their face, and while blood dripped from a fairly painful seeming gash on their forehead, they smiled. "Tranquilo, cariño. Estoy bien." They said, gaze tired and a bit dazed. Rudy sighed and shook his head. "You've already used that line..." He said back, unable to stop the tiny smile as they snorted. "So I have." They hummed, resting against his armored shoulder. Rodolfo swallowed and chewed on some words stuck in his throat for a moment, up until they tapped him. "Just ask me already, Rodolfo. I'm losing blood and I think you should know how much I like you by now." They said with a hint of smugness. Rudy clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, chuckling when the poked him again. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young man." They scolded playfully, groaning in pain as he carefully helped them up, pulling them close to keep them supported. "A drink after this sounds nice, si?" He asked quietly. They nodded lazily. "With you? Absolutely." Rudy smiled and began slowly guiding them out of the broken building. "It's a date then."

✧König Badubrecht✧

Konig anxiously fiddled with the bracelet he snuck under his sleeves while he waited. He recalled a breathing technique and tried his best to keep his breaths quiet, but full enough to keep him calm. On any other day, he would've been mostly fine, but this was not every other day. No. His commander had told him that he, and two other soldiers, would be meeting up with a rather impressive taskforce run by Captain John Price. As if it wasn't enough that Ghost was on the team, as well as the ties they had to impressive forces in Mexico, all of that on its own was enough to get him antsy to make a good impression. But there was something in particular that caused his nerves to light up with unease. Meeting their sniper. Only known by their callsign 'Hotshot'. When Price had chosen them, word spread fast to allies about the impressive track record they carried. Twice, they had missed a shot twice. That was two compared to, give or take, three-thousand-four shots they had taken. A number that steadily grew with each mission, one kept track of just to prove the otherwise outrageous number. König loved the idea of being a sniper and practiced frequently, even if he was never given the position due to his size. Part of him wanted to ask for an autograph, but he also knew that would likely get him weird looks. "Oi, Großer Kerl. Das Team ist hier." His commander's voice startled him just as much as the words. König swallowed and nodded. He stood up and quickly fussed over his appearance before following. He let the other soldiers he'd be working with walk in front of him. He envied them, their confidence. Slightly baffled they could walk toward such impressive people without feeling the need to overthink how they'd present. It was one thing when König didn't care about their opinion, or when he was walking toward enemies. He'd strut forward with his shoulders rolled back and his chin high, gaze stern and sharp as the blade on his belt. But wanting people to like you, new people no less? He'd had easier times handling battles than that. It didn't get easier when they were in view. He towered over all of them, hiding wasn't much of an option, although his veil helped. König noted all of them individually as his commander spoke with Captain Price. Ghost certainly was intimidating, Gaz & Soap seemed more approachable, not to take away from their capable abilities however. Then his eyes fell on the last member, feeling his chest clench, making his hands do the same at his sides. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he'd heard of Hotshot's illustrious reputation. Still, he wasn't expecting them to be so...beautiful. They stood confidently with a laid back smile, some left over war paint smudged under their eyes, black gloves over their hands. König had so much to say and it all piled up in the back of his throat. He'd gotten so lost in staring at them that he'd completely missed everyone introducing themselves to each other, hence why he flinched violently when he was addressed directly. Suddenly, someone he viewed so highly was stood in front of him, craning their neck to make eye contact. "You alright there, big man?" They asked with a smile. König let out a string of stammered noises. They rose an eyebrow with a head tilt as the man mentally scolded himself, trying hard to actually say a word, anything! "You're pretty." He said suddenly with a voice crack. Instantly, shame and regret waved over his body. Hotshot blinked a few times in surprise. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't-" "I like you." They pointed with a grin again, much wider than before. König deadpanned, eyes wide and stunned quiet. He watched them extend a hand. "Look forward to workin' with you, Romeo." They teased lightly. König hesitated, but very carefully shook their hand with a nod.

König held his breath before pulling the trigger on his USR rifle. The bullet soared through the air and through the paper of the target, leaving a fresh hole in the figure's skull. He exhaled and smiled to himself under his sniper veil, taking notes on what he had done right, what he could do better. As he went to grab his pen and jot it all done, he flung it in surprise when clapping sounded behind him. He nearly broke his neck whipping his head around, pulse stuttering when he viewed Hotshot leaned on the wall. Or, Y/N, as they'd said to call them. Though König had yet to break the habit of calling them Lieutenant. He blushed heavily as they smiled at him, pushing off the wall. "Nice shot, big guy. Right between the eyes." They complimented, letting out a whistle as they gazed at the target. He swallowed a lump in his throat, hands growing clammy in his gloves. He hadn't known them very long, admittedly, although their reputation preceded them. It had been a little less than a month since he'd first been introduced, in that time, he'd grown to find them charming. Too charming for him to handle. "Remind me again why they won't give you a proper sniper position again?" They asked as he leaned back on his knees. Konig cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "My size." He mumbled, a bit bitterly. Hotshot clicked their tongue both sympathetically and in annoyance. "Yeah, I'd imagine being that tall has it's drawbacks. Seems to have advantages too though. Still, I think you're a great shot. Little awkward on your form though." They explained. Konig glanced up at them with a small head tilt, silently hoping they'd elaborate. They smiled and crouched beside him, suddenly reminding him just how much bigger he was. "Get back in position, I'll show ya." They smiled. Konig nodded and did as told. He wasn't necessarily an obedient soldier, but he always listened to what they said. He'd been so worried about how they perceived him, stepping out of line brought too much anxiety. He wanted them to like him. He adjusted his hold on the gun, resuming the position he was in before they came in. "See, you're firing well, but is this a position you could hold for an hour?" They asked. "Nien, my back starts to hurt." He admitted. Hotshot nodded and snapped their fingers. "Exactly. Here, I can already tell your problem." He glanced at them before his breath caught in his throat, feeling their hand gently placed on his leg. Positioning it a bit more outwards, bending at the knee. Through thick cargo pants and a set of gloves, their palm felt like fire through fabric, singeing his skin. His hands twitched nervously when they moved up by his shoulders. "Now, instead of holding your head like that, try this instead." Their voice was soft, quiet. König felt his pulse in his extremities when their hand found his jaw underneath his make-shift sniper hood, tilting his head as they wished. "There ya go, big guy. Now, try firing like that." The nickname suddenly felt like fire to his senses, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back an unmanly sound. He did his best to hold the gun steady, aiming once more, ignoring the proximity of his superior. He fired, unable to focus on where the bullet landed. He could still somehow feel the ghost of their hands on his person. He flinched when they clapped twice. "Another headshot! Good job, mate. Keep at it and you'll be better than me soon." They smiled brightly. Konig blinked up at them, nodding carefully. The lieutenant hadn't missed the widening of his pupils. "I'll let you get back to it. Come get me if you want more tips." They patted his shoulder, taking careful note of his near-silent shudder. Perfect.

(TW; War typical violence, blood lusty König) The man heaved, feeling ice in his veins, bright red blood darkening the fabric of his gear. He counted the bodies around him, ten in total, none of them moving. He scanned the area around him as he continue moving, looking for more targets, knowing if he didn't have one in his sights, someone had him in theirs. His fist clenched around the handle of his blade when his radio crackled. Static mixed with a voice, one frantic, one familiar. Past his adrenaline rushed brain he heard the panicked call of his friendly sniper, one who'd recently called him a friend. Long legs broke into a sprint, operating off his most basic instincts, the most animalistic portions of his mind. He made it to their position with, to him, felt like seconds. He didn't process the information around him before his body was moving, quick as light and as brutal as iron spikes. Suddenly, his body count that day went from thirty to thirty four. A loud crack and a heavy thump of a limp body hitting the floor was the last thing her heard before the blood rushing in his ears started to settle. He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Y/N coughing, grasping at their neck. He went over to them in three large strides, kneeling down in front of them. "Mein Freund, geht es Ihnen gut?" He asked, voice heavy with breath and a bit shaky. They coughed again with a nod. "I'm alright, I'm good. Thank you." He listened to the rasp out their answer. As things grew quiet again, König realized just how intense he'd been. One glance at the bodies behind him showed the true nature many often were unaware of. He was a violent, terrifying force when in war. Typically, he didn't care. He'd grown to stop caring after so much of his life was met with judgment or rejection. But he liked this person, therefore, their approval mattered to him, and now his anxiety began to rise. They'd fear him, avoid him now, surely. "König." Their voice snapped him forward again. "Can you get this mic off? It's hard to breathe with it..." They muttered, motioning to the throat mic tightly secured around their neck. It caught him by surprise. He'd just snapped a neck without hesitation not even five minutes prior, and yet they were asking for his help still. He swallowed and nodded. The winced and tilted their head back, allowing access to their bruised esophagus. König tried not to tremble as his fingers clumsily when to loosen and undo the mic. His hand was dangerous, blood still stained his gloves as he grazed their skin with the fabric. His chest felt ready to burst as he heard them sigh in relief when the pressure let go, easing some of the sting of the irritation. It was red, soon to be a deep purple when the bruises truly formed. It looked painful. König's fingers shook as he absentmindedly trailed the line dented in their skin. "I'm okay." Their voice made him jump again, bringing his eyes back to theirs. They smiled at him, already exhausted from the day of battle. König blinked and nodded slowly. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, like he'd been burned, feeling his skin lit aflame. "Let us finish so you can get to evac." He muttered, standing up, allowing them to use his deadly hand to hoist themselves up with him.

"God it is so pretty here!" Y/N declared as they looked around at König's hometown. Graz, Austria. König smiled behind his black medical mask as he watched them look around in awe, feeling pride bubble in his chest as they walked to his home. Since he'd joined the military, he'd gone home alone. It was lonely, yes, though he always made sure to visit his grandmother when he'd come back from missions. His apartment always felt too quiet, too empty. He liked his alone time but often times he found the solitude suffocating. Everyone he knew on his team didn't really have this problem, either being fine on their own, with friends to visit, or family to return to. That was until the hotshot sniper admitted a very similar situation to himself. He saw how their face fell when they mentioned it, and despite his fear of rejection, he took a leap and offered a plane ticket. It surprised and delighted him when they jumped at the opportunity. He was proud that they enjoyed his country so far, even if he was nervous about their opinion of his home. Not that he could avoid it, however, given they were already at his door. König unlocked the door and stepped in, immediately removing his shoes. They mimicked his movements and carefully set their boots off to the side. He took a second to note how small theirs were in comparison to his. They took a gander around his home. It wasn't much, a simply decorated place with some mild dust built up from how long he was gone. When they giggled quietly, his stomach twisted, wondering what it could mean. "Uhm, welcome to mein home. Do...do you like it?" He asked nervously. "You decorate like a grandma." They answered, turning with a big grin on their face. An old quilt was folded on the couch and on the wall their were crocheted works of art in wooden frames. "It's so cozy, it's really cute." Their compliment made him relax. He motioned for them to sit, which they did gladly. He was quick to make them tea, some for himself to calm his nerves. There was a silence that settled over them when he finally came to sit beside them, comfortable for them, anxious for him. They spared a glance at him staring at his tea cup, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "Aren't you gonna take off your mask? So you can drink it?" Y/N asked. König blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "...Nein." He muttered, setting the cup on the table in front of them. Y/N frowned. "Why? It's just me..." They said in a hushed tone. "You," He swallowed. "You will not like my face." He said softly, squeezing his hands together. They sighed and put their own cup down, standing up. König's eyes followed them and his face went red as they bent, placing their hands on his knees, looking him intently in the eye. "That is bullshit, big guy. I like you way more than you think I do. And I promise your face is not gonna change that." They said intensely. König blinked at them before he looked at his lap again. He inhaled deeply through his nose before he bit down on his tongue. Like ripping off a bandaid, he wanted to get the pain of their rejection off as fast as possible, so he tore off the mask, keeping his eyes scrunched shut. Some beats of silence left his heart palpitating. Then he felt warm palms carefully cradle his cheeks, forcing a gasp out of him. König blinked and looked at them, up, for once. Y/N's gaze trailed over his features, fingers lightly trailing over faint freckles to a scar across the bold bridge of his nose, down to the his oldest scar that ran from his right sinus to his chapped lips. A smile grew over their face as they took in his visage. "I knew it. You're one pretty man, Romeo." They purred quietly. The man's eyes widened before his breathing stopped, eyes fluttering as they pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. "Du bringst mich noch ins Grab…" He shivered. They chuckled and pecked his forehead. "Don't even think about it mister, you're staying alive for as long as I need for you to love yourself as much as I love you."

✧Alex Keller✧

Alex was a seasoned soldier. He'd constantly perceived through the unthinkable, cut it close with death more times than he could count. Shot, stabbed, kidnapped twice, inhaled complex chemicals, and managed to escape with his life after he detonated a bomb. Missing a leg, but alive. Maybe he was lucky, maybe it was the opposite. Either way, anyone who had the nerve to imply Alex as anything but impressive and strong was a fool, completely. The blond was someone any general would take pride in. So what on earth could take out a man with such an amazing track record? The flu. The answer was the flu. Alex practically never got sick, but when his fellow soldiers began to notice his less than fantastic state, it was hard to deny. Pale, clammy, a headache from hell. He couldn't do drills as well because his joints were sore and the coughing wasn't ideal. He managed to brush off concerns up until he threw up in the communal trashcan in mess hall. Finally, Alex's commander dragged him to the medbay. "Just sit down, Keller. Fucks sake." Julia grumbled as she set him on a bed. "I'm tellin' ya, I just need some NyQuil and I'll be fine-" Alex was cut off by harsh coughing fit that made the woman cringe. "With all due respect, Keller, you sound like you deep throated a cactus. Just let the medic look at'cha. We just got a new one, they're lovely, you'll be in good hands." She promised, making him sighed and rub his face, putting some pressure on his eyes, hoping it'd help the pain behind them. Alex hummed as he heard Julia greet a new voice. He dropped his hands in his lap and blinked, looking over at the new medic, not wanting to be rude. He couldn't tell if the warmth in his face was just the fever anymore though, not when he got a good look at them. They approached and set a clipboard down, standing in front of him, putting on some gloves as they smiled. Julia motioned to him. "This is Alex Keller, Keller, our medic, Plaster." She said. Alex rose an eyebrow and looked at them, watching them laugh. "It's my callsign. Brits call band aids, plasters." They explained. "And they'll fix all your cracks." Julia snorted, making the medic roll their eyes. Plaster grabbed a thermometer and put a cover on it. "Alrighty, Alex, just put this under your tongue. Don't want a soldier with such an impressive resume to be out of commission for too long." Alex blinked slowly as the plastic rested under his tongue. His brain was essentially mush, and the pretty face in front of him wasn't helping. "Heard o' meh?" He slurred tiredly, making them snort. "I have! Not everyday a man willingly blows up a building full of gas, much less live through it. Man of steel, eh?" They asked. Alex motioned to his leg. "Knee down." He replied, smiling when they laughed, taking out the thermometer. "Oh boy, 100.8. You, sir, should've been here much sooner. I'll get you some antibiotics and some NyQuil." Plaster said as they shined a light in his eyes. Alex lazily opened his mouth so they could check the back of his throat, heart thumping harshly as they carefully held his jaw, clicking their tongue sympathetically. "Poor thing, your throat looks pretty bad." He hummed. He gazed up at them as they carefully put a stethoscope to his chest. "Pulse sounds a bit quick." They mumbled. "'s your fault." Alex replied. Julia's jaw dropped open as Plaster tilted their head with a little chuckle. "Oh is it now? Well I'm sorry, sir." They replied. "Mm-mm, not complainin'." Alex shrugged. Plaster shook their head and wrote his prescription down, handing it to him before turning to Julia. "Make sure he stays in bed. And get some rest, casanova." They patted his leg. Alex gave a weak salute as Julia dragged him away, not paying attention to how she poked fun at him. "You're gonna feel so embarrassed when you can think straight." Alex shrugged as he stumbled beside his commander. "I dunno, I think they liked me." He said proudly. Julia rolled her eyes.

Getting a leg blown off was an extremely painful endeavor, obviously. Alex had a whole half of a limb blasted off at the knee, then he had to have it heal, then there were months of getting used to having his limb missing. And even after growing used to having his leg amputated, the pain was far from done. Excluding ghost pains, there was always some painful soreness left after using his leg all day. After some time, there was a level of pain that he considered normal, and therefore powered through. But there were other times where it was agony. It reminded him of the darker fairy tales he’d been told by his great grandmother. Like the Little Mermaid, how every step was agony, rather than the sparkly version Disney gave. He still tried to tough it out, but it really felt like hell. Leading him to limp to the medic’s area, hoping to hide from his bosses for a bit and perhaps ask for something for the pain. He winced as the pain became sharp, sitting on a cot in the quiet medbay. He sighed as he heard footsteps coming his way. He glanced up and saw their medic, the one that cared for him when he had the flu. “Mr.Keller, what brings you her- oh you look bad, what’s going on?” Their joyful tone quickly turned to worry as they approached him. He sighed and motioned to his leg. Quickly, the nodded and wrote something down. “Give me a moment. If it’s alright with you, I’d like you to remove your leg and compression sock.” They said. He did as told. There was both pain and relief when the heavy metal was pulled away. He set it beside him and tried to place pressure on his thigh. Plaster came back with some ICYHOT and a cold wrap. “Can I put my hands on you?” They asked softly. Alex rose an eyebrow, smiling when they rolled their eyes playfully. “Not like that.” They scolded, though they weren't truly upset. Alex chuckled and nodded, rub his his face. They put some gloves on and some of the Icyhot. Their hands were delicate as they carefully applied pressure to the muscle of his amputated limb. He winced and sighed in repeat as it both soothed and ached. All the while, they gentle cooed and comforted him through the pain. By the time the frigid compress was wrapped around his leg, he was exhausted. Alex went to stand, hobble his way back to his room, only for a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked up at them, being met with a gentle smile and a light push. He listened and laid back, though confused. “I think you should rest for a bit.” They explained softly, patting his chest. “And…you’d rather me do it here than my room?” He asked with a teasing grin, watching them laugh under their breath. “Come on, casanova. Give a lonely medic some company, would you?” They asked. Their tone made his chest tighten and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “Sure thing, doc.”

Alex sighed after taking a large gulp of beer from a pint glass, looking around the bar he'd popped into. Usually, bar outings were for celebration after a mission, this time though, he came alone. He wasn't there to mope or feel bad about himself, he just didn't want the loud commotion of his entire team. He was an extrovert, yes, but sometimes the company he wanted was more quiet, less straining. He looked at the foam residue in his glass, zoning out to whatever music was playing over the speakers. Some new-age country song if he had to guess. "Well, hello stranger." A voice near him made him flinch and raise his head, feeling butterflies erupt at the sight of his favorite medic. He grinned and turned to them a bit. "Plaster, hey, what're you doing here?" He asked. They waved their hand and came to sit beside him in the booth, not really minding the close proximity. "None of that callsign nonsense, Keller. You know my name, you can use it off base." They replied, setting a tequila sunrise on the table. The man hummed, the warmness in his cheeks now not only the alcohol. "Well, Y/N, what brings you here?" He asked. "A drink and the curiosity of American bars. The stories were right, it is filthy here." They commented, making him laugh and nod. "Well, so is all of America really." He hummed. They rose an eyebrow at that, though the held their question as he took another swig of beer, only taking a quick second to glance at the way his Adam's apple moved. "Coming from a man with an American flag on his arm, I hear you give your country quite a lot of shit." The medic rested their chin in their hand, eyeing him curiously as he glanced at his tattoo. "It's burning for a reason. I love my country but...I also don't. I...I love the idea of America, what it was supposed to be. What it is? Not so much." He admitted slowly. Y/N frowned as they watched his face fall. They could take a million guesses on what made him feel that way, he'd probably answer with an 'all of the above'. Instead, they reached over and patted his leg with a kind smile. "Well, there are plenty of places I can think of that would take an American, if you're able to handle the jokes on your accent." They said softly. Alex's throat tightened at the kind hand resting over his jean-clad thigh. It wasn't sexual by any means, but it still made his skin grow goosebumps. "Yeah? Would you be willing to take in this one legged stray?" He asked with a teasing tone. Y/N chuckled, but they nodded as well. "I'm sure I could take care of you real well." They whispered softly, barely audible over the commotion of bar life. Alex swallowed and suddenly the pressure on his leg became a little more dangerous. But the last thing he wanted as to pull away. Instead, he let out a breathy laugh, one a bit shaky. "Don't make a promise you can't keep, doc. I'm always getting into trouble." He replied. They tilted their head, an innocent motion with a layer of mischief. "I'll get you out of it." They replied. He knew they'd both go back to the base that night, that nothing would happen, given the sensibility of not making rash decisions with alcohol present. But, despite not even being buzzed, he already had his plan to play up a hang over, just so he'd have an excuse in the morning. Knowing full well they'd see right through him.

Alex was a hardened soldier. He'd been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, inhaled toxic chemicals, and he'd had his leg blown off. Withstanding it all and still alive, still breathing and, at least somewhat, functioning. But there were days when the air filling his lungs felt monotonous and the lack of sound felt like death. Usually on nights where he was on leave. The first night was always the same, with him so exhausted he'd pass out and wouldn't have the ability to overthink. The longer he was alone, the worse it got, until his mind started to shot off thoughts he didn't really want to indulge. Counting the times he'd cheated death, the amount of lives he might've saved with better hindsight, whether or not there was another side, would it be as quiet as his home? He had friends, people he knew cared for him, but none of those dynamics felt right for voicing this part of himself. The deeper, more frightening bits. Or, well, he didn't have that before. In a moment of weakness, as he felt the weight of his life and its debatable worth rest too potently on his ribs, he grabbed his phone and hit a contact, a colleague. His work always spilled into his life, he didn't see why it had to stop with them. Guilt ate at him when they answered, hearing their tired tone reminding him of how late it was. But they didn't complain, they didn't scold or scoff. Their voice remained sweet, so worried for him, so caring. It aided all the more in having him cave, having him ask for a lifeline. It was raining cats & dogs and yet they only took twenty minutes to be at his door. He was still in his sleepwear, a pair of basketball shorts and a grey tank-top he'd had for a near decade. His leg was off, using his crutch, albeit begrudgingly. No words were shared as he watched them remove their shoes, water dripping off their coat as they hung it on the rack. This would've been the first time they'd actually be in his home, but he wasn't particularly concerned with their opinion of his awful décor choices. Y/N turned and looked at him with worry in their gaze. Again, silently, they took the hand that wasn't supported on the crutch and carefully pulled him to the couch. "Bad night?" They finally spoke, sitting down beside him. Alex nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I dunno why I called-" They cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to them with exhaustion in his face. Y/N sighed sadly, raising their hand to hold his face gently in their palm. He melted into it immediately. There was something supernaturally soothing of human warmth, something real, something alive. "You trust me, starboy?" They asked quietly, thunder rumbling in the sky as he nodded. He mourned the loss of their hand as they situated a throw pillow on the end of the couch, moving to lay down with their back slightly elevated by the arm of the furniture. He watched them look back at him, then, with open arms, they beckoned him. It was a step too intimate for coworkers, bordering past friends, and he didn't care. He practically tossed his mobility aid away and slid over. Their chest became his pillow as he slotted between them and the back of the couch, feeling them grab the folded blanket he always left out, draping it over him. He let out a shaky sigh when their nails met his scalp. "Easy, casanova. Let me take care of you." They whispered. Alex let out a huff-like laugh. "You got it, doc..."

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #konig x reader #cod konig #alex keller #alex keller x reader #cod x gn reader #fluff

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felagund-the-valiant · 9 months ago

Text

Fingon SFW Alphabet

A/N: i've been fretting over this for some time, so glad it's finally done. i love him sm and yet it's weirdly hard to put that love into words sometimes :/

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

His love languages are physical touch and quality time. Absolutely no problem with PDA, though he tones it down in more formal settings. Not afraid to show affection in front of his friends/family and at least always has an arm around you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This man has no trouble starting conversations and he’s probably one of those people who know at least one person wherever they go. He‘s an incredibly supportive best friend and always has your back. Likes to give unsolicited advice but not with bad intentions.

The kind of extrovert who has unintentionally adopted dozens of introverts. He just makes it easy to get comfortable, even if you’re not a big talker.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

You know he loves cuddles and will never turn them down. It‘s one of his favourite ways to unwind after a stressful day – just trap you in his arms and turn his head off.

Normally prefers to be the big spoon, but when he’s feeling down, he will sometimes ask you to switch places.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Definitely wants to settle down eventually but isn’t in a rush to do so. As long as you regularly spend time together, he can wait until you’re ready. 10/10 cook, probably better at it than you.

You might have to occasionally kick his ass when it comes to tidying things up, but he won‘t make a fuss about it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Would try to be as empathetic as possible about it. He would prefer it if the two of you could still stay on good terms afterwards, completely cutting off ties would be his absolute last resort.

Even if you somehow came to resent him (good luck with that), he’s almost chronically unable of bearing long-term grudges.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh, he would love to get married one day, but just like with settling down, he isn’t necessarily in a rush. Since he’s very expressive with his feelings, he’d love a big, fancy celebration. He wants everyone to see how much the two of you love each other and how lucky he is to have you.

Will definitely cry at some point during the ceremony.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He can be incredibly gentle and tender when he wants to and has no problems with being open about his feelings for you. You’ll never be left wondering how he feels about you. Whether you need a kiss, a hug or simply some warm words – he’s got you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He lives for hugs. Might be a bit clingy at times but you can never stay annoyed for too long at his enthusiasm. His hugs are always strong and comforting, his aim to make you feel safe and protected with him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

There’s a high chance he’ll be the first one to say it. He’s not one to overthink his feelings and one day he‘ll just have this sudden epiphany about how much you truly mean to him and how he can’t imagine his life without you anymore. From there on, it’s only a matter of waiting for the right moment with just the two of you to spill the beans.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

It would take a lot to make him seriously jealous and so far, you haven’t seen that side of him. Most of his jealousy is playful and exaggerated and clearly meant as a joke – deep down, he has unconditional trust in you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He gives a lot of playful kisses, probably preceded by a corny joke or compliment. Overall, pretty sweet kisser. Other than your lips, he likes to randomly pull you in to give you a quick kiss to the temples or forehead.

Adores when the two of you are cuddling and you pepper little kisses all along his throat and jaw.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Due to his open and cheerful nature, children flock to him, and he will gladly entertain them for hours, singing silly children’s songs with them or telling them stories he came up with on the spot.

10/10 big brother, older cousin or father.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Annoyingly cheerful in the morning, even during busy/stressful times. You’ve whacked him across the head with a pillow in annoyance on more than one occasion.

How can he be this chipper when he got less sleep than you? Only Eru knows.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He always tries to go to sleep at the same time as you (unless he’s horrendously busy) so the two of you can cosy up under the blankets and chat a little/get caught up before nodding off.

The first time you ever saw him without his golden braids was when you slept over at his house for the first time. He had made a little show out of loosening his hair, as if you were suddenly seeing a vulnerable new side of him and it’s still something the two of you occasionally joke about.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s an open book and has no trouble revealing things about himself, no matter how personal/intimate. Seriously. If you ask, you better be prepared for a detailed answer. Don’t say he didn’t warn you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s not necessarily easily angered, but he can be very rash and prone to act first and think later. Sometimes you need to be his voice of reason and reign him in a little.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s got everything you’ve ever told him memorised. Whenever you mention something new, he immediately files it away in a secure location within his mind. While his memory is naturally sharp due to being an Elf, he still likes to brag about how well he knows you, sometimes.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The day you confessed your feelings to each other is one of his most cherished memories. Looking back on it now with the knowledge of what that nerve-wracking yet wonderful moment led to, is enough to make him sentimental.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He secretly really likes playing knight in shining armour, but he knows that it’s often not warranted. You’re your own person and he will usually trust your judgement when it comes to how comfortable/safe you feel in others’ presences.

Not just willing to protect you from others but also from yourself. He’s the master of peptalks and will not stand for you talking negatively about yourself. Not on his watch, forget it.

You don’t ever need to protect him physically, he’s more than capable of that himself. He will, however, not hesitate to lean on you for emotional support. You don’t need to be good at it, for him it’s mostly the thought that counts – feeling like he can be vulnerable with you is enough.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts as much effort as possible into everything that concerns you. You’re the most important person in his life and he wants you to feel it every day.

He expects the same effort in return, please don’t disappoint him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He can be overly talkative and not realise when he‘s taken over the entire conversation.

Might get a bit annoyed at you if you take too much time to think things over – sometimes forgets that not everyone’s as spontaneous as he is.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He takes great pride in the way he braids his hair and is very meticulous about it. You’re the only other person he trusts to do it right and teaching you how to do his preferred styles has been an unexpectedly strong bonding experience.

As for clothes, he certainly makes an effort to always look his best, but he prefers when the main thing that stands out about his appearance is his hair.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

While he can appear kind of clingy at times, he isn’t irrational about it or has abandonment issues. It’s mostly just him pretending to be overdramatic in hopes of getting a laugh out of you. He has more than enough confidence in himself, no need to worry about him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As mentioned above, he excels at cooking. Even if you’re not good at it, he will still gladly do it together with you and is always happy to teach you some things.

One of your first dates was probably him inviting you over to cook your favourite meal together and have an intimate dinner.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like mean-spirited jokes at the expense of others, all of his bickering and bantering is done good-naturedly.

In the same vein, he has zero tolerance for bullies of any kind and will shut that shit down as soon as he gets wind of it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He’s a very light sleeper, much to his dismay, and quite prone to restless sleep as soon as he gets a little stressed. He never means to hog the blanket, but he’s very active in his sleep which kind of makes it wander around the bed, so you might end up unlucky at times.

#tolkien #reader insert #silmarillion #fingon #fingon x reader #sfw alphabet

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months ago

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love is a losing game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin

PART VII - Don't Look Back In Anger

Chapter Summary: A shootout at Marina Del Rey ends in tragedy, and Jessica comes to terms with the fact that her husband is bound for federal prison, breaking his promise to never leave her as a single mother.

Chapter Warnings: Someone gets shot, Riley Mitchell experiences her first officer involved shooting, Jake goes to jail. Really inaccurate portrayal of plea deals.

Author's Note: welp guys, this is it! this is the final chapter. thank you to my 8 dedicated readers that have made it this far with me <3 this story will always hold a special place in my heart and i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

Series Masterlist

Jessie watched in horror as Mitchell and Bradshaw exchanged gunfire. Her trigger finger itched with the need to do something, but she didn’t want to aim wide and accidentally shoot her mentor. Pete fired, his bullet embedding itself in the side of the yacht. Silently, Jessie hoped it hadn’t hit the gas tank. Holstering her weapon, she sprinted across the pier, watching helplessly as Pete boarded the boat, throwing a punch at the younger detective.

She was wearing Kevlar. Pete was not. One of them was significantly better protected against Bradshaw. As she neared the pleasure craft, Jessie drew her weapon again, firing a shot that grazed Bradley’s shoulder. He fired back, and she dropped to the concrete pier to avoid the bullet. Pete used the distraction to get the drop on Bradshaw, but it still wasn’t enough. Bradshaw was at least twenty years younger, and spryer.

As it became clear that Pete was losing the upper hand, a single shot rang out, hitting the detective in the chest. Bradley Bradshaw fell back into the marina, and when Jessie got to her turned around, she saw Riley Mitchell clutching her service weapon, breathing heavily as she stared at the yacht.

“Riley, sweetheart, it’s okay, you can put the gun away now.” Jessie encouraged, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s over. Your dad is safe.”

Riley and Jessie boarded the yacht, Officer Vazquez trailing behind as Jessie crouched next to Pete, taking his hand in her fist. Mitchell shook his head, looking up at her. “How did I know you weren’t going home?”

“To feel sorry for myself? Hell no.” Jessie laughed, helping him to his feet. “I’m seeing this through to the end.”

She stepped to the side and allowed Pete to embrace his daughter, the pair talking in hushed voices about the shooting. Jessie left them to it, sitting on the boat’s bench seat and staring into the turquoise water, stained red with blood. Vasquez had called in for backup, and now the marina was filled with the siren song of LAPD cruisers.

“It’s over, Jessica.” Pete said, sitting next to her. “Bradley Bradshaw is dead.”

Jessie shook her head, feeling strangely calm. She knew her calmness was factory supplied, and that as soon as her Ativans wore off she would feel like a vise was squeezing her chest. “It’s not over. Nowhere close. We’re out of the woods on this one, but it’s not keeping my husband at home. My little girl is still losing her father.”

“You’ll both need a good lawyer. Penny can’t represent you; it would be a conflict of interest.” Pete pulled a business card out of his wallet and passed it to Jess. “Call him. He’s one of the best defense attorneys in L.A. He’ll get Jake a good plea deal.”

“Thank you, Pete.” She squeezed his hand, looking out on the bustling crime scene below. Riley was talking to her union representative on the phone, and the technician working the scene bagged her firearm.

Messing with the edges of the thick business card in her hand, she looked down at the name.

J. Michael Haller esq.

The lights were on when she got home, Jake’s silver Dodge parked in the driveway. He was inside, perched on the couch with a beer and an episode of ‘Breaking Bad’. Jessie sighed when she saw him, dropping her purse on the kitchen counter and taking off her glasses. She could feel exhaustion creeping into her bones as she entered the living room.

“Hey,” Jake’s voice was soft as he put his can of Budweiser down. “rough day?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” She laughed sadly, moving to where Jake was sprawled on the couch. “It’s this fucking Howard case. I think it’s got everyone on edge. I stayed late with Pete just to find that someone has been destroying evidence, and that someone back then was planting it. I’m beat, Jake. I don’t know what to do, and with conviction integrity breathing down our necks, there’s even more pressure to get this right.”

Jessie sunk into the couch, practically draping her body over Jake's. His strong arms wrapped around her, fingers reaching up to massage her scalp. He kissed her forehead gently, one hand rubbing her back.

Jake Seresin was her safe place, her home. Even if he did smell like cheap cologne and the product he used to keep his hair out of his face. He was soft, and attentive, and always made her feel so loved. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Pete ordered Chinese.”

“How long ago?”

“Two hours?”

“Still hungry?”

“Yeah. What do we have in terms of leftovers?”

“Screw leftovers, I’ll fire up the barbecue.”

Really, Jake just wanted a reason to get Jessie into the backyard. He’d come home from work early and spent all afternoon preparing to pop the question, the small Pandora box burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans. There was a small part of him that wondered if Jessie had had too long a day to bother asking, but if she was going to see the setup anyways, he needed to ask.

“Come on, there’s something on the patio I want to show you.” Jake took Jessie’s hand in his, pulling her towards the sliding patio doors.

When the pair got outside, Jess stopped, mouth gaping wide. “Jake…”

The patio stones were strewn with white and lavender petals, a walkway ringed with tea lights that Jake was surprised to find were still on. The patio table was obscured by the large bouquet of pure white carnations. As she followed the tea light path, her eyes lit up. Pinned to the wooden fence was a series of foil balloons, spelling out two simple words.

Marry me

When she turned around, Jake was already on one knee.

“Jessie, my love. My everything.” He laughed nervously, fumbling the ring box open. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She shouted, wrapping Jake in her arms when he returned to a standing position, shaky hands slipping the sterling silver ring onto her finger. “I love you so much.” She said as she kissed him, giddy on love and excitement of what was to come

The house was quiet, a record spinning softly on the turntable. Oasis, Definitely Maybe. An album that brought back so many memories for the young couple. The mood was heavy, knowing what was to come.

Following Pete’s advice, Jessica had called J. Michael Haller and met with Jake before he was released from the hospital. Haller had managed to negotiate a few terms in exchange for Jake’s surrender, one of which was that he got a few more days to spend with his family before turning himself over to the LAPD.

The man in question sat on the couch, still as a statue, holding his daughter in his arms, trying to perfectly capture the feeling in his memory before he had to give it up. Jessie sat next to him, her head resting against his shoulder as she tried to soak in the last few moments of forced normalcy.

Nothing in her life would ever be normal again.

There was a soft knock on her front door, and she felt every muscle in her body tense. It was here. The end of the road, and the potential end of her marriage.

“I’ll get it.” She swallowed, trying to find stable legs to stand on. “Go spend a few more minutes with your daughter.”

Jake nodded, kissing her forehead before carrying his sleeping daughter to the nursery. Jessie slowly moved towards the front hall, her feet feeling heavy and leaden. She knew who would be at the doorstep, and she was thankful that Mickey had brought his personal car, a Buick Envision, rather than his city car, all sirens and flashing lights.

Wordlessly, she opened the door, inviting Pete Mitchell and Detective Mickey Garcia into her home.

“He’s just putting Rosie to bed.” Her mouth felt dry, voice cracking.

“It’s okay, Jess.” Mickey soothed, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Haller is going to meet us at the station, everything is going to work itself out.”

“I wish it were that simple. This is going to follow Rosie everywhere.” And me.

She busied herself turning the stereo equipment off, sliding the vinyl back into its sleeve as Jake emerged from the hallway, a heavy look in his eyes. He was dressed well, in dress jeans and a collared shirt. The lawyer had suggested it, asking the couple to put their best feet forward.

And suggesting that they don’t come to the grand jury in sports cars.

“Its time?” He asked stoically, nodding once.

Garcia nodded back, reaching into his dress pants for the silver handcuffs. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“Me too. Jessie deserved better.”

Jake turned to his wife, pulling her into a gentle embrace. He kissed the crown of her head, holding her small body so tightly she thought his fingertips would bruise her. They each inhaled lungfuls of the other, trying to hard to draw the moment out. “I’m so sorry, Jessica.” He rasped. “We’re going to get through this. We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”

“I was in the hospital, Jake. Not a federal prison.”

Despite himself, Jake smiled. “You think I’ll end up where Ansel Howard is? I’ll kick his ass into next week for you.”

Jessie laughed. “You will do no such thing. You just focus on coming home to me.”

Her laugh hid a sob, which she tried to bury as she hid her head in Jake’s shirt.

“Fuck, baby, don’t cry.” Jake pleaded, pulling away from the embrace and guiding her face to meet his. “You are the strongest person I know. I need you to be brave for me.”

“Come home to me, Jacob Arthur Seresin.” She breathed, pressing up to kiss him softly. “Rosalind needs her dad.”

“I promise. You’ll hardly notice I’m gone.”

Pete cleared his throat, averting his eyes. Mickey gave the pair a sad smile.

Their time was up.

Jake kissed his wife one last time before presenting his wrists to Garcia, who slapped the cuffs around his pale, calloused skin. “Thanks for doing this. You’re the only person I wanted doing this.”

“Anything for Jessica.” Mickey nodded in agreement. “You sure you want to use the front door?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Jessica followed the trio to the front door, holding it open as she watched her closest colleague frog-march her husband down the porch steps and over to the Buick SUV that would take him to Hollywood station. She watched as Jake was guided into the back seat of the car, keeping his head held up all the way, creating a steely mask against the shame she knew was coursing through his veins. After Mickey closed the door and moved around to the driver’s side, Jake Seresin took one last look at his wife, blowing her a kiss through the tinted window.

And that was when she broke down crying, falling into Pete Mitchell’s waiting arms. The older detective held her as she sobbed, trying to muffle her cries and avoid waking her daughter.

One year later.

Jessica Seresin was getting sick of people knocking on her door unannounced.

The grand jury had been a feeding frenzy for journalists, sending her back to Pasadena to stay with her parents while she waited for the hubbub around her husband’s pleas deal to die down. Every now and again she still got a crank call or a reporter knocking on her front door.

Jake ended up getting five years in high security. He was able to pin most of the blame on Bradley Bradshaw, escaping murder charges. He was still nailed on police corruption, bribery, blackmail, extortion and burglary. The judge was under pressure to make an example out of him, and came down hard despite knowing that Jake was forced into it.

Going back to work had been a struggle. She had reverted to using her maiden name in a professional setting, hoping that victims wouldn’t make the initial connection. Despite it all, it felt good to be back in the field again, if only on a part-time basis. After all, someone still needed to look after Rosie.

She was surprised to open the door and find Pete Mitchell on the other side. She was beginning to associate her mentor’s presence with bearing bad news.

Nevertheless, she invited him in, offering him a mug of coffee. They sat in the kitchen, an electronic monitor set up on the table so that she could watch Rosie, who was playing with her Monster High dolls in the other room. Two years old and already into Monster High. Jessie wondered what the moms at daycare thought about that one.

“Why are you here, Maverick?”

“Jessica, you were one of the best detectives I ever knew.” He began, sliding a file folder across the table. “You’ve not been yourself lately. Your conviction rate has plummeted, you let your junior detective take the lead on most cases.”

“I’m a single mother now, Pete. My priorities have changed. My face was all over the papers as the wife of a dirty cop, and I wake up every morning feeling like someone is sitting on my chest while pouring water down my lungs.”

“I am asking for you specifically, Jessica. This is a case like no other. Your lieutenant already approved the transfer. RHD is where you’ve always belonged. Even Ron Kerner thinks so.”

Jessie opened the folder, avoiding Pete’s eyes as she scanned the information. “This was one of Jake’s cases, from just before we started dating, while he was still a uniform. He was part of the team running surveillance on the fentanyl suppliers.”

“Come to Mexico with me, Jessica. This could be exactly what you need to get your spark back.”

Jessie thought about it, quiet aside from the sound of her nail being pulled between her teeth, chewing nervously on the end.

“There’s more to it. Drug dealers have never been your bag. Who else is in Mexico?”

Pete sighed. “My white whale. A family of four disappeared overnight. Two young kids.”

“And you think these fentanyl dealers have something to do with it?”

“My strongest lead.”

She tapped her nails against the table, watching her daughter on the monitor. She had been to see Jake just a day prior, showing her husband pictures and videos of just how big their daughter had gotten. Through plexiglass, of course. They weren’t allowed to touch each other. He had a black eye but was reluctant to talk about it.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

#love is a losing game series #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

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