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skzdust · 3 months ago

Text

Ateez Snapshots: Calling them Daddy

All suggestive. Minors DNI.

Anon request here! Daddy is usually not my fav but these were actually a lot of fun. My fav is Wooyoung's :) Enjoy!

Summary: Reader, who is friends with each member, calls them "daddy" out of the blue... they respond in a variety of ways.

Pairing: Ateez x reader

Includes: coffee dates, amusement park dates, study dates, video games, bar dates, dinner with a friend, writing a song, and touching yourself during a movie

Word count: 1.8k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Hongjoong:

You and Hongjoong are having coffee, and your mind starts to wander.

Hongjoong is sipping his usual iced butterscotch latte with almond milk, caramel cold foam, and cinnamon sprinkled on top, and you have your usual order. You’re staring into your drink.

Hongjoong is your best friend, but you can’t stop thinking of him naked, pushing into you with a groan.

“Hongjoong… Daddy…” You’d whisper at the feeling, at him bottoming out inside you.

“Huh?” You look up, and Hongjoong’s flushed red.

“What?” You’re confused.

“Did you just… um… call me….”

Your eyes go wide as you realize. “Did I say that aloud?”

“Um… yes, you did.” Hongjoong is looking at you, waiting for you to respond. He’s all red, his fingers tapping against his cup, slightly biting his lip.

You want him so bad.

“Hongjoong…” You murmur. “I was just…” You sigh, unsure of what to say.

“Do you want to call me that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then… ah, do you want to…” Hongjoong looks so nervous you laugh. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing cause you look adorable…” You lean in. “Daddy.”

Hongjoong groans. “Don’t say that in public. It’s gonna make me… ugh.”

“Kim Hongjoong, does ‘daddy’ turn you on?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Maybe.” He smiles.

“Then maybe we should go back to my place.”

Hongjoong’s eyes light up. “Yes, we should.”

-----

Seonghwa:

You and Seonghwa are at the amusement park, and your mind starts to wander.

You’re on the biggest roller coaster in the park, climbing up the first hill. Seonghwa’s hand is warm around yours, holding it tightly. You should be nervous about the drop ahead, but you can’t stop thinking about those hands, about what they could do to you.

Seonghwa squeezes, and you smile at him. “Thanks for holding my hand, daddy.”

“Daddy?” Seonghwa looks shocked, but before you can say anything, the car is toppling over the slope of the roller coaster, and you’re screaming, squeezing his hand even tighter.

Your stomach is in knots from more than just the coaster as it slows to a stop at the end of the track, and as you pull into the unloading area, Seonghwa doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Did you call me daddy?”

“I… um, yeah…”

Seonghwa smiles, a glint of mischief in his eye. “You know, if you want to call me daddy and scream, we could do something other than another roller coaster.”

You smile. “Are you serious?”

Seonghwa’s eyes dart over you. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

-----

Yunho:

You and Yunho are studying together, and your mind starts to wander.

Both of you are in a chemistry class together, and you just can’t get the calculations quite down. As Yunho’s showing you one for the third time, you can’t stop thinking about him fucking you on that table. You’re in one of the most private study rooms in the library, so it’s unlikely anyone would find you…

“And then you carry the one… got it?”

“Got it… daddy.” You whisper the last word.

“Daddy?” Yunho repeats.

“Yeah.”

He tilts your chin up so you meet his eyes, and your stomach jumps. “Did you mean that?”

“I did.”

“Fuck.” He says softly, his eyes roaming over your face. “You’re so beautiful, I’ve always thought that, but I didn’t think you… wanted…”

“Wanted you to dominate me?” You say boldly.

“Yeah.” Yunho smiles. “But now that I know… we’re gonna have fun, aren’t we?”

-----

Yeosang:

You and Yeosang are playing video games, and your mind starts to wander.

Well, Yeosang is playing League, and you’re laying on his bed and watching him. Your best friend isn’t very good, but it’s fun to heckle him as he plays.

He finishes his game and tosses his controller on the table. “I swear, that was not reflective of my skills.”

“Sure.” You laugh. “Whatever you say.”

“Oh, come on.” He spins around in his chair to face you.

“What did you want me to say? Yes, daddy, lose that game harder!” You say, joking, but Yeosang goes deep red, quickly looking away.

“Don’t say that.” He mumbles.

“Kang Yeosang, do you have a daddy kink?” Your eyes widen, and you grin.

“No!” He protests.

“You totally do, daddy.”

He puts his face in his hands. “Shut up.” His words don’t have any bite.

“Fuck me, daddy!” You whine. “Harder.”

“Seriously, shut up.” He looks at you. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll start to think you’re serious.”

“Well, maybe I am.” You say, your stomach jumping. Would that make things weird?

He blinks. “Seriously?”

“Yes… daddy.” You smile, shy.

“Fuck.” He whispers. “I love it when you say that, y/n.”

-----

San:

You and San are at a bar, and your mind starts to wander.

He takes another drink of his beer. “You look distracted, what’s up? Weird day at work or something?”

You shake yourself out of it. “Yeah, exactly that.”

“What happened?”

I was thinking about you fucking me all day and I couldn’t focus on my project, but I did have some fun fantasies about calling you daddy, so that was good. You think. “I was just really spacey today, I don’t know. Couldn’t focus on anything.”

“Really?”

“Yes, daddy.” You say without thinking.

San laughs. “Daddy? Where’d that come from?”

Your face goes hot. “I— um—”

“Be honest, baby.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Where’d that come from?”

San calling you “baby” lights a fire in your stomach. “I’ve been thinking about it a little bit.”

“Thinking about… calling me daddy?”

“Yes.” You look down.

“Hey. Look at me.” San says gently.

You look at him. His expression is full of compassion and maybe something a bit darker. “You can call me daddy if you want. And if you want me to fuck you, just say so.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whisper.

“Okay, then let me finish this beer and we’ll go back to my place.” San takes another long swig from the bottle, nodding at your glass. “Finish your drink, and we’ll go, baby.”

You smile. You drink your wine as quickly as you can.

-----

Mingi:

You and Mingi are having dinner, and your mind starts to wander.

It’s just hamburgers from your favorite local place. You’ve gotten takeout and you’re sitting at the dining table in Mingi’s apartment.

But it feels like more than that.

“Did anything exciting happen today?” He asks, taking a bite.

“Um… not really.” You say, smiling, images of Mingi’s hand around your throat filling your head. “Nothing too interesting.”

“Whatever you say, sunflower.” You blush at the nickname. It’s your favorite flower, and it’s his special nickname for you. “But your little grin says otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”

“What really happened today?” Mingi raises his eyebrows.

“I was just… thinking.”

“About a guy?” He pokes.

You take a breath. You’ve been in love with Mingi for so long now, you may as well go for it. “About you.”

“Me?” He looks surprised. “I don’t get it.”

“I tink about you all the time, Mingi.” It comes spilling out. “You bending me over my desk, you pinning me against the wall, kissing me… all that kind of thing… daddy.” You whisper the last word.

“Daddy?” He whispers back.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Yeah…”

“Call me that again, sunflower.”

You open your eyes. He’s looking at you intensely, his eyes burning with a fire you’ve never seen. “Call me daddy.”

“Daddy… will you fuck me?” You whimper, putting it all on the line.

“Shit.” Mingi says softly. “I’ve been wanting you to ask for so long. Yeah, daddy’ll take care of you.”

-----

Wooyoung:

You and Wooyoung are working on a song, and your mind starts to wander.

You usually don’t write sexy music, but the melody Wooyoung has built with the guitar combined with the riff you’ve composed on your bass has an undeniable seductiveness to it. Heavy, like a heartbeat, but somewhat risky, too. Wooyoung’s got an effects pedal plugged into his guitar that’s making it even hotter.

And you’re thinking about his fingers deep inside you as you play the bass line you’ve got down practically by heart at this point.

“That sounds really good, y/n!” Wooyoung says loudly over your playing.

“Thanks, daddy!” You say back, and then stop playing as you realize what you’ve just said, staring at him for any reaction.

“Daddy?” Wooyoung laughs. “Damn, you’re really getting into the… mood of the song, aren’t you?”

“I am.” You laugh nervously, hoping he’ll dismiss it at that.

But he takes a step closer. “Didn’t know you had a thing for ‘daddy’. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He taps the tip of your nose, winks, and turns around to pick up his guitar again.

You feel hot all over. “What do you mean keep that in mind?”

“I just mean it’s good to know what you’re into. You know, in case you want to fuck.” He slings the guitar strap over his head, facing away from you, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

“In case— what?” You sputter.

“Oh, c’mon, I’ve noticed.” He smirks. “You stare at my fingers a lot when I’m playing. You want them inside you.”

“I— I mean, maybe.” You exhale.

“I’m up for it if you are.” He starts playing the chorus to the song, looking down at his guitar, and you notice the blush on his cheeks.

You smile. Wooyoung’s just as down bad as you are.

-----

Jongho:

You and Jongho are watching a movie, and your mind starts to wander.

Jongho kissing you, pushing you down into the couch, making you his.

You sneak a glance at him. He’s watching the fight scene contentedly, sticking a piece of popcorn in his mouth. He doesn’t even notice you looking.

You carefully slip one hand under the blanket on your lap.

And then you slide it under your sweatpants.

You close your eyes for a second. It feels so good to touch yourself after how worked up you’ve made yourself thinking about him. You know it’s wrong to touch yourself thinking about your best friend, much less when said best friend is sitting next to you, but you can’t stop yourself now.

“Fuck, Jongho, daddy.” You whisper, the words bubbling up on your tongue before you can stop them.

“Did you just…” The movie pauses, and you open your eyes to see Jongho looking at you, blinking.

“Oh, I was just— um—” You search for words, but you can’t find any.

He grabs the blanket and pulls it off, revealing your hand down your pants. You snatch it out and he takes it, licking your fingers and making hard eye contact with you.

You shiver. You hadn’t been expecting that.

“Beautiful girl.” He whispers. “Were you touching yourself thinking about me?”

“Maybe.” You whisper back. “I… maybe.”

“You should’ve just asked me to do it for you.” He licks again. “I would’ve said yes.”

“Can you do it for me?” You breathe.

His eyes glint. “Sure thing, baby.”

346 notes · View notes

ciaoteamo · 10 months ago

Note

can i convince you to write gn!reader with francis mosses? but like… the kicker is a weird one… he’s lactating (can either be a usual occurrence or a weird situation for them) and asks the reader to help

Gøt Milk?

pairings: Milkman x reader

summary: anons request of course!

warning: 18+ content

“oh, you’re back again i see” You tilt your head to the man opposite of you.

“miss me?” He asks.

“how have you not been killed yet?” Usually doppelgängers couldn’t hang around for too long as the same thing, otherwise people get suspicious and report them.

“i have my ways… are you gonna let me in easy this time? or do i need to show up your D.D.D. douchebags again” He questions.

“well, you know i can never make anything easy for you… what’s on your shirt?” You ask, seeing wet spits welling up right where you assume his nipples are.

“huh? damn it” He rolls his eyes once he realizes.

“is this some sort of abnormality?” You ask.

“you humans swear you know everything” He mumbles.

“well, is it?” You smirk.

“whatever, yes. just help me get rid of it i’ve been dealing with this shit for weeks now after you” He huffed.

“after me? you were the horny bastard that came in here first asking for ‘help’ ” You raise an eyebrow.

“besides, i don’t do favors for jerks” You shrug him off and take a peek at your clock.

“look, (Y/N)-“ He says, voice disoriented, taking you by surprise. He had a fist on the window that he quickly loosened once he saw you look at it.

“quite the temper you have”

“i’m sorry, just- look im desperate right now and you’re making this difficult for me…” His forehead was on the glass and he looked down in defeat.

“awe, i thought that’s what you liked?” You say, getting close to the glass to catch his eye.

He looked at you with knitted eyebrows and an almost pitiful expression. You roll your eyes and press the unlock button, succumbing to the pity.

“hurry up before i change my mind..” You sigh.

As if you needed something else to worry about today.

He came in quickly, and you lock the door again. You could tell he was biting back a shit eating grin.

He closed the door and stood a little awkwardly this time around. “so… what are you gonna do?”

“well obviously i’ll just squeeze it out… do you carry glasses with your get up? or did you just copy his clothes” You cross your arms.

“well i’m not really going door to door so no, i don’t have glasses” he answers, matter of factly.

You approach him, peering at the wet spots that adorned his button up. His nipples looked larger than last time.

You reach out and unbutton down until his pecs were in full display. You could see the beads of milk forming and dripping down the pink areola.

“oh my..” You gently touch one with your thumb and he tenses. With a little more pressure, his hand flew up to grab yours.

“whatever the feeling is, its too much. it’s overwhelming, yet relieving somehow” He explains.

You catch him off guard and use your other hand you squeeze until you saw the white liquid spray out. He choked and groaned, grabbing your hand once again.

“hm..” You look around the office for something to hold the liquid in. You kept your office very neat so there was only a large fast food cup in the trash can and your half empty hydro flask.

You grab the cup from the can and open your flask.

“we’ll use these. don’t worry about this coming from the trash, it only had ice in it beforehand. but you can drink the rest of the water in here if you think it’ll overflow” You inform him.

“also, sit here. ‘cause i’m still gonna give you a hard time” You wink. “if im gonna help you, you’re gonna help me as well”

He sits in your rolling chair and leaned back in the usual man spread position, chest heaving a bit from what you did earlier.

“you see this clipboard? and these folders? they have all of the information for the neighbors that are coming in today. i don’t know if you’ll need it but you know the rules here.” You start.

“for every doppelgänger you catch, i’ll reward you” You propose.

“and i’ll squeeze these baby’s until their dry while we wait on the next person to walk in”

“that’s a piece of cake for me, i can sense other dopplegangers you know?” He says, finally letting you see his over confident grin again.

“don’t care, like i said, you’re doing something for me in return, and this is it. hope you’re looking forward to it since you’re so comfy about it” Your eyes stare into his. His face goes a little pink and you chuckle.

“…oh lucky you! here they come” You push him out of the line of vision and stand in front of the window. “hi, how are you today?”

“i’m well! how are you” The neighbor replied.

“doppelgänger” You hear from the side. You look at the person in front of you. It certainly looked like a neighbor.

“ID please” The woman slides her ID through and you check to see that her name is typed complete backwards.

You close the security window and call D.D.D.

“wait, so you don’t even need to see them to know?” You whisper to the man in your corner. He shakes his head no and you hum to yourself.

D.D.D. comes to clean and you engage in the shirt conversation they have with you. “alright, we’re heading back now… but, (Y/N)?”

“yes?”

“where’s your chair today?” The suited man asks.

“oh, i’m trying to lose weight so im standing this shift” You answer with a smile.

“oh, well you look great already, so don’t push yourself too hard!” He waved and you wave back.

“that was sweet of him” You chuckle. You feel eyes burning a hole into your head and see ‘Francis’ glaring.

“ yOu lOoK gReat alReaDy” He mocked.

“don’t be jealous, it wouldn’t kill you to compliment me” You poke his forehead.

“yeah? well how abou- mmfuck” His annoyance, now diluted by his heightening sense of ecstasy.

“so much better when you aren’t nagging me” You had the reused cup pressed under peck while you massaged the area around his nipple

You tug at it and watch him writhe with the harsh sound of the milk hitting the button of the cup. With your skilled hands, the cup was reaching the halfway mark and his hands were digging into the back of your thighs.

“please…be a little more gentle” He gulps and his adam’s apple slowly bobs.

“we won’t be getting anywhere like that now would we?” You tease, giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his agape mouth.

He shuddered every once in a while and was sweating up a storm. You were kind of envious of the amount of pleasure these things could receive. He was pitching a mountain top before you, and just as the cup was full half way, uou hear the footsteps of another.

You set the cup aside and stand from and center, leaving the man disheveled and thankful for a break from the near overstimulation.

“hi how are you?” You beam at the neighbor. They slide in their I.D. and you skim over it before hearing ‘Francis’ speak up again with a groggy voice.

“human”

“Enjoy your day” You smile and unlock the door, making sure to lock it back. The neighbor smile’s and nods a thank you once inside.

“another good call, you’re on a roll” You smile back at him, feeling a little excited to torture help his other nipple now.

“i’m glad you came to me for this Franny. I never did get an apology for how you left my office last time, you know?” You tilt your head, leaning over the sitting man with a mischievous grin.

“oh yeah, i’m sorry about that” He sorrily smiled.

“no no no, it’s too late. you won’t be leaving until i fulfill my duty here today “ You pat his cheek.

Doppelgängers don’t have morals, no feelings, not a care in the world. And for the first time, you, (Y/N), have made one feel fear, lust, and regret all at once.

And with a talent like that? How could he ever leave you alone?

-end-

AN: what if i posted tiktoks at the end or start of my asks? idk i feel like it would be cool since tiktok’s gonna be gone in like 8 months 😭

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! sorry it look a bit lol.

#ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #ask ciaoteamo #milk the man #milkman #milkman smut #milkman x reader #gn reader #gn!reader

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murder-cookie-dust393 · 10 months ago

Note

Shadow Milk Cookie. Chloroform. Yandere. Do what you will with this information.

-🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍👨

I'm gonna put you as the anon listed above since- That's what I assume you mean?

I unintentionally put shitpost aha

Disclaimer: MC is still gender neutral, they are just referred to as queen for chess role purposes.

Tw: Eyestrain for the art that goes along with this piece, chloroform-like magic, kidnapping to a different dimension, implied future murder

You find yourself in a dark void. So black, you can't see anything through the shadows that swirl in your vision. You're not sure what it feels like. Is it threatening? Or is it a sense of peace? You aren't sure. This sense of the unknown makes you anxious.

Suddenly, a big blue eye opens in front of you, the colour glowing within the dimmed surroundings. The shade of blue reminded you of Lapis. A very bright one. But the eye itself, it was terrifying. You nearly wanted to break into pieces right then and there.

"Oh, my queen! You're finally here!" A voice eagerly chirps, a slightly maniacal tone to it. It seemed ecstatic to see you, too much so. You couldn't form an answer, still processing your odd environment.

"I've missed you~ It's been ages since I've seen your face! You don't look any different- oh, maybe you're just a little prettier, you silly thing!" The voice giggled as the eye blinked. The eye squinted upwards as if it was smiling. But wait, why did it act like it's seen you before? You don't know who this entity is. Not even what it is. Is it a cookie? A beast? Confusion swelled within you as the seconds passed.

"My sweet...What is that face?" The voice slowly faded away, as your world suddenly blackened once more.

——————————————————

"MC, are you okay?" You wake up to the face of Strawberry. She seems concerned, her big brown eyes down-turned. How cute. "You were shaking in your sleep."

"Um yeah, I'm okay. I just had a weird dream." You respond, still lying on the grass where you and the group are camped. You clutch onto your blanket a little tighter.

"Like a nightmare?" She tilts her head to the side.

"Not exactly. I can't put it to words..." You mumble off, trying to recall the eye that spoke to you.

"Oh okay." She glanced at the blue and violet sky, commenting, "It's almost sunrise. Do you wanna prepare jellies with me? I'm sure the others will wake up soon."

You nod and sit up before flailing your blanket to the side.

——————————————————

You and your friends are going through the forests of Beast Yeast, cautious of all the creatures and evil beings lurking by. That is until your group stumbles upon a random chessboard on a glass table. In the middle of the fucking path, in the middle of fucking Beast Yeast. Instead of black and white, the board is in different shades of blue.

"What in tarnation is this?" Wizard leans closer, staring at it intensely. Fidgeting with his fake beard, or in other words, his scarf.

Chili Pepper butted in, "The fuck you mean bro, this is obviously a dumb chessboard-"

"LANGUAGE!" Gingerbrave suddenly turned out to stare at Chili Pepper uncannily, before smiling again. "I'm sure it's something dangerous! Let's not touch it."

"Guys,"

"Or it could be a chessboard and table someone decided to randomly leave here."

"Shush- I'm always right." Gingerbrave did an imaginary hair toss.

"Guys..."

Wizard raised his hand, just like a nerd, "No? I am, thank you. By the almighty power of magic I-"

"You're an ice cream. Also, you're the one who's screaming for help half the time." Chili Pepper chuckled, poking at Wizard.

Strawberry took a breath and sharply, albeit quickly spoke, "Guys!"

The whole group turned to look at her, which made her flush with embarrassment. She pointed at the chessboard. "The pieces are moving on their own." When the gang looked back at the gameboard, they were met with a surprising sight.

The chess pieces moved by their own accord. Which revealed that the darker blue side was winning compared to the lighter blue. It was a competitive fight, with both sides making quick moves. It was mesmerizing, you aren't sure why.

You reached out your hand and touched one of the pieces in curiosity. Only to feel a sudden freezing cold gust fly at you. Your surroundings become dark, just like your dream as the yelps of your friends sound out around you. A sinister chuckle joins along, as your body is thrown into a blackened world once more.

"Honey! Honey, honey, honey, my honey."

You stand before a jester cookie, covered in eyes. He grins, his clothes like the blues of the chessboard. He swiftly goes over to you, cradling you in his arms. You can't move, overcome with a freezing cold that leaves you immobile.

"I've waited much too long on your reincarnation. We could have had a wonderful marriage by now if it weren't for that bastard Elder Faerie." He spoke softer than before but had a spit of venom for the name Elder Faerie. He leans closer, uncomfortably so. He makes a minuscule hum before pecking your mouth.

"I'll just keep you here for a bit until I have everything ready." Out of nowhere, a shadow comes for you, binding you in it. You start to feel drowsy. "We'll be so happy once more, I promise." Your vision starts to swirl into darkness, to the point you can't make him out anymore.

You fall asleep, unable to fight off the dreadful binds.

——————————————————

"My Queen~! Wake up! I have everything ready for you." You're nudged awake, as the binds come off you. You find yourself on a throne: cold and metal. As look forward, you are shocked to see a glowing chessboard just like the one you saw on the path. But also freaked out to see Strawberry and Gingerbrave tied up in the same binds, floating in the air.

"Wha- What is this?" You stammer, overwhelmed with all that has happened in the last few moments. Was this a joke? A jester terrorizing you and your friends, what a lovely day.

"Why, it is the moment you get to see your idiots crumble right before you by the hands of your rightful husband, me: Shadow Milk Cookie!" He comes over to you, putting a crown on your head. It was plain, just a metal crown with no jewels or anything else.

"And you're the queen! The most powerful one on the board!" He giggles, patting your hand. You tense at his touch, wanting to get away from this glorified position you were in. But time and time again, you can't move away from your spot. It's as if you were hardened glue stuck to a label that no one can seem to pry off.

"I don't know what reincarnation you talked about before, but whatever it is, stop it! My friends have done nothing! I don't even know who you are!" You plead, wanting his weird reincarnation thing to stop. You felt guilty for thinking of touching a moving chess piece in Beast Yeast. Gingerbrave was right: everything is dangerous.

"Honey..." Shadow Milk frowned, holding your face in his hands. He looked disappointed rather than enraged. "I know your memories are somewhat faded, but those cookies are distracting you. Distracting you from me, your beloved." He lightly bumps his face against yours, staring into your eyes.

"What do they have to do anything with your dead lover?" You ask, a little too harshly, but needing to get the message across.

He gasps. "They aren't dead! They're right before me!" He puts his jester hat on his head, going over to Gingerbrave and Strawberry. He glares at them briefly with his dual-chromed eyes before returning to you.

"Just let me. Just let me kill them." He hisses with a grin. His eyes scare you, the way they're wide open with insanity. "I need some desperate alone time with you and also get our marriage decided once more." Shadows started to succumb to the world, except for the light from the board.

"No! Don't you dare!" You shake your head, unwilling to let him get away with this. Your poor friends. Just what kind of madness did you pull them into?

"My Queen! When will you let me kill them? They are insignificant to our love!" He exclaims, reaching a hand out to you.

Oh, what a devoted lover isn't he? Waiting for eons for you only for you to be so disgusted with him.

——————————————————

This was really fun to write. Now, I’m not quite caught up on the lore yet. I just read his profile and said fuck yeah so…mhm.

I will say, I didn’t go exactly chloroform, but the same aspect of it with his magic.

I used honey cuz I was like “Old. But also insane. Equals honey.”

Alright I’m gonna go do homework now because I’ve neglected other work (APRIL AND MAY IS HELL FOR MEEE)

- Celina

#cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #yandere #yandere x reader #crk x reader #crk #yandere shadow milk #yandere shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #yandere shadow milk cookie x reader

517 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

I’ve read a variation of soft and rough König and I’ve enjoyed both but I’d love to see your take on his character.

I can’t deny I have a preference for soft König. I think his size is a major concern, especially if his partner is on the smaller side, which leads me to believe he’d prolong the inevitable and the pining and anticipation would be off the charts on his end. But maybe his SO thinks he’s not as interested as she initially thought.

Add in the fact that he’s gone for long periods of time in which there is little or no communication and perhaps she considers moving on. The ol’ miscommunication trope if you will, with a happy ending. Thanks!

Overflow the Stars

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Synopsis: One more abandoned date night later, you're left wondering if the man you're infatuated with is really interested in you at all.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Angst, feelings of insecurity, body issues, allusions to König's past w. bullying & his anxiety, size difference, fluff, soft!König, happy ending

A/N: This is my apology to the German-speaking people out there - I think I butchered your language (feel free to correct me). I'm so sorry lmfao. But, Anon, this request was adorable to write, hope you enjoy it!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wanted to say you were surprised when he didn't show up – really, you did – but in the back of your mind, you already knew he wouldn’t. It was hard not to feel disappointed when you swirled your tiny cup of Franziskaner tensely, watching the whipped cream sink away into the concoction of dark espresso and milk; calling attention to the same feeling in your chest.

König had a strange habit as of late, and with a delicate furrow in your brow and perhaps even a smidge of sadness in your eyes, you wondered what you had done wrong. Why had he been avoiding you so…violently? While you wouldn’t have called yourself perfect by any means, nothing you had done over the course of your meetings was strange or downright embarrassing.

You admitted that the man had never been the type to run away from something, and sighed as you brought the cup to your lips and sipped. Caffeine sits on your tongue along with a bitter revelation as the rain begins to pick up in velocity outside. The small and quiet café where you’re spending your afternoon is warm and unburdened by the weather.

Do you think…he’s even interested in me anymore? The sharp thought brings a pang to your chest, fingers over the warm cup flinching back as if struck with lightning. O-or he doesn’t like being around me?

Your relationship was still new, very new, and if you were asked you would say it wasn’t even dating yet. König hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.

But it had still been going well.

“Or so I thought,” you take a breath, watching the fog on the window as the streets of Vienna are rapidly being emptied of tourists and locals alike. Your shoulders are painfully tight.

Aggressive rainfall like this into the cold seasons was unusual, but it wasn’t like mother nature cared about the whims of anyone but herself. It’ll freeze overnight, leaving a bitter chill that puffs from breaths and a shaky few steps out the door across hardened ice. You’d probably go out – alone – for a walk in the morning to clear your head, or try, at any rate.

Lately, all you could think about was the bear of a man that was supposed to be sitting in the empty seat ahead of you. The cursed wooden chair burns your eyes; its dark wood and red cushion stab your vision over and over until you’re sure you’ll bleed tears instead of water.

He was supposed to be here.

Taking another shaky sip of your drink, one that König had recommended to you himself a few dates ago, the brief moments of warmth it brings to your bones does little to satisfy you. You doubted anything short of a hulking figure trying to stick their knees under the small table could do just that.

The giant man you called your possible future boyfriend was avoiding you, and your subconscious was breaking itself to try and understand why. As if that gracious plea had been heard above the glossiness of your eyes and the gentle hum of the café workers who shuffle about, the phone in your pocket jumps.

You don’t want to admit how fast your hand snapped to your thigh, sneaking under the layers to draw out black metal. A single link to König when he was overseas or out of sight that you were told was unwise to use. He was rarely able to answer you, but for what it was worth, he always tried to call back later.

Even if recently, it had been a brief state of events.

“I-I can’t talk right now–”

“Forgive me–”

Your lips thin.

Pulling the phone out, you immediately look at the contact, though you already know the message before you read it. The sunken whipped cream finally falls under deep chocolate-colored waves.

“Sorry, Bӓrchen, I’m stuck in the building for the day! I swear I’ll make it up to you for missing–” You don’t bother reading the rest, thumb already scrolling upward to see the numerous times other excuses have been made.

His parents were needing some help moving furniture, he was drowning in post-operation reports, or simply just too tired. You weren't stupid. But every time you had stuffed down your pride and responded cheerfully, dressed to the nines and standing in your living room while your fingers shook over the keys.

Holding back tears.

It would hurt less if he’d just tell you to your face what you were thinking. Maybe all of this was just…

Your thoughts trail off.

But that didn’t make sense – König was never malicious!

Placing down the phone, you leave him on read, feeling the pitying eyes of the baristas burning into your skin like a brand. They knew as well as you did that he wasn’t showing up.

When he calls sometime later, you shut the device off completely. Staring out the window at the dimming light, you lean your head into the glass and try not to cry as you watch couples rushing for cover from the rain; laughing and holding the other close.

The empty chair stays motionless in the corner of your eye.

—

The first time you met König, you were left gaping at the sheer size of him.

Towering over ninety percent of the other patrons in the art shop, he had looked down at the package of charcoal pencils in his large, scarred, hands. Turning them over to read the description on the back like an expert with delicate eyelashes that you’d kill for.

You yourself had been cast in his shadow quite by accident, looking along expansive shelves for a sketchbook – your friend had gotten into a watercolor phase lately, and what better to give her than a birthday present she could actually use? The only problem was that you had no idea what was considered good quality or not, but had a strange suspicion the man beside you did. But what a happy accident it all turned out to be.

König had a black surgical mask on, but the milky-white scar that ran up his right eyebrow and disappeared into his auburn hairline was still starkly visible. Expressive dark eyes blink down at his object from a surprising height. Between picking up multiple books, running your fingers over the paper and whatnot, you can’t help but stare at the pure strength the man emanates. Compared to you, he was utterly gargantuan in both mass and height. A bear and a bee, you thought with a stifled giggle.

He blatantly appeared to know more about this stuff than you did as he placed the charcoal pack down and picked up another.

“Erm,” you begin, and his head snaps down to yours immediately, head of hair falling into gentle curls near the ears. He had looked partially surprised to hear you speak to him, and his eyes had flickered around instinctually. But it was only the two of you in the aisle. “I’m sorry to bother you, Sir, but you seem to know a helluva lot more than me about art supplies.” Your voice was cautious, and you were afraid you’d seem rude for disturbing him, but all he did was stare and wait for you to finish speaking. Feet every so often shifting, or his hands twitching as if he never was able to stay still; he blinks a few times like a rabbit. “Any suggestions for watercolor?” A small laugh meets the air as you move your hand to show off the wall of possible options for paper. “I’m not much of an artist, but my friend’s birthday is coming up – thought I’d get her something she’d actually use this year. She wasn't too enthralled with the plant I got her for her twenty-third. Killed the thing in a week.”

A nervous chuckle is softly met and your face heated as his own did. There’s a moment of a clearing throat before the man nods carefully, and the sparse freckles over his forehead shift. His biceps flex.

“O-of course, Ma’am,” his accent is quite strong, and you like the guttural raspiness of his tone. “I prefer Saunders Waterford, though I don’t manage to use it often. Better, eh, was ist das Wort?” He stumbles for a moment over the proper descriptor. “Beständig. Durable.”

A tilt of his head later, and you’re beaming, picking up the large pad with careful fingers, testing the weight in your palms as one would an apple.

“Wonderful! It looks like I owe you one, eh?” Looking back up, you watch his eyes widen as you notice him blatantly staring. Face crinkling into a shy display of heat and curiosity, he slightly moves back, a large hand going to scratch at the base of his neck as his sweatshirt bunches.

Chest tight, you stick out a hand and offer your name with a smile. It was only customary, but the action was pure instinct more than thought-out. All the while restraining a shiver, his limb encompasses yours so completely and radiates a large amount of heat.

“A pleasure,” your voice wavers, but it’s not so much nervousness as it is genuine intrigue. For a man so blessed with the tall gene, he really had a considerate hold – barely squeezing your skin in fear it would break.

The action makes your chest squeeze.

“Ah, guten tag,” he utters, nodding with a firm shake, though his eyelashes caress his cheeks as his eyes rove away, “König.”

A bit awkward, isn’t he? You have to ask yourself. Not that it was a bad thing – in fact, you found the nervous tensing of his thighs to be cute, along with that red tinge that was over his pale ears. So very opposite of how you expected him to act.

That was when you noticed the dog tags, as well, though you found no purpose to say anything. But everything about this man had caught your attention as a large billboard would, and the comparison has you practically bending in laughter. He probably could be a billboard with a build like that. No doubt he’d catch a lot of attention.

You tilt your head and release his hand, nodding to König’s charcoal pencils.

“I bet you can make some killer drawings with those things, huh?” The beast twists them in his hand and turns down to stare at the supplies as if he’d forgotten they’d been there at all. “You draw often?”

“Ja,” his eyes brighten, and the crinkling of his eyes tells you that a small smile pulls at his lips. “Whenever I’m able. I,” König pauses before his shoulders move in a soft movement akin to a shrug. “I…find it calming.”

Your ribs move in reaction to an interested sound.

A bear that likes to draw.

“You’re better than me, I’d just get frustrated if something doesn’t look right.” A deep laugh echoes off the shelves before a lapsing silence settles like a bird’s wings. Overcome by a sudden urge to speak, yet having no other words to say, König’s voice meets your ears before you can find something to say.

It’s slow, the tone, bathed in hesitation and even a smidgen of armor; like the outcome of your response was already measured and taken as null compared to the giant’s own thoughts.

“I…don’t suppose I could show you some if you’d be interested.” At your widening lids, his twitching hands come up to his sides, eyes blinking rapidly as a vermilion hue blossoms like a flower over his visible skin. Dark eyes like broken obsidian pay more attention to your shoes than your face.

“N-not, eh, scheiße, I only meant I–” Watching him stutter was similar to what a high schooler would do when he was called out during an assembly. Though, your giggle makes him clear his throat and pause with a stiffening spreading to his legs. His body seems to deflate, taking your reverence for his soft inward nature as making fun or at worse, a blatant rejection. The delicate makeup of his psyche was on display, though you didn’t know. “I’m…I’m sorry, Ma’am–”

“I’d love to see your artwork, König,” you begin, pulling the watercolor pad closer to your body instinctually, cheeks hot. The man perks up, and you can see his heart hammering through his clothes when his eyes blaze with light. “How about I give you my number and I’ll text you a day I’m free and we can work something out? A local café or library sound good?”

“I…yes, that sounds wonderful.”

—

You throw your soaked coat on the hook as you shut the door, hating how the frigid rainwater had wetted your hair, though still holding it as a blessing. At least no one could see the tear tracks as you walked back to your apartment.

Kicking off heavy boots and peeling the slick layers of fabric from your chest with a sloping sound, you flick on the lights with a shaking finger and a sniffle. Wet footprints are left over the rugs and hardwood as the phantom shuffles over them, beelining to the bathroom to strip.

Your mind was preoccupied as you slipped out of heavy fabric, the pile already on the floor creating a large puddle that you threw a towel on and left as it was.

“He…he’d tell me if he didn’t like me anymore, right?” Whispering, the broken words meet air as you toss on a large shirt – the hem meeting your knees as a pair of thick sweatpants follow.

Quite the look for someone who was having an internal battle. Your friends would say you looked like you were minutes away from grabbing a tub of ice cream and sobbing over a rom-com. The quick-witted part of you confessed that the idea wasn’t even that bad if you threw in a glass of beer. Preferably the shitty kind so you could complain about it and distract yourself.

“Get it together…” You would not cry over a guy that hadn’t even asked you out officially, but with that familiar sting in the back of your eyes, you hissed that König wasn’t just any guy.

You’d really liked him, and for what it was worth, your heart would have exploded if he had asked you out.

He was kind – respectful. Utterly adorable when he was speaking so passionately about his artwork and his parents who he held on a larger-than-life pedestal. König’s heart was just as big as his body, that gorgeous, bear-like body, and…oh, you’d wished he would like you just as much as you liked him.

Before you could stop the wave of hopelessness, the tears were already dribbling down your face, and the dark apartment was echoing with the barely-there sobs that hit the walls.

—

When you hadn’t answered him in the next two hours and his calls were going to voicemail, König was hit with a train’s worth of worry. Feet tapping faster than unusual and eyes were finicky as they passed over documents.

Although his contract with KorTac wasn’t exactly like his own had been in the military, the hyper-vigilance was still ingrained bones-deep. The Austrian man held his personal relationships tightly – and if someone wasn’t answering him, the anxiety reserved for large, uncontrollable, crowds reared its ugly head. König wasn’t sure when it had happened, but you had entered that loyal group consisting of his parents and a few work friends in an incredibly small amount of time.

He really should have bit the bullet and gone out with you today, the man acknowledged as he slipped out of his office and tried once more to get in contact with you. König watched the icon of your smiling face go straight to the familiar voice that in any other circumstance, he would have wanted to listen another moment too.

“...Thanks for calling! I’m not able to speak with you right now, but go ahead and leave a message–”

“Come on, Bӓrchen.” König lightly growls, hanging up and stuffing the infernal device into his cargo pant’s side pocket.

His usually hidden face was twisted up with worry, so commonly lit with bloodlust on Ops now left in a state of unknown. It was stupid to think like this, but how could he not? In such a small amount of time, you’d made him fall for you like a bird does the sky; that thin line between falling and flying caught underwing.

That was why he’d been making excuses, you see.

You were so…good…that he’d been worried about the way he carried himself; second-guessed small actions like a hand on the small of your back in public, or a comment about how nice you looked.

Did she take that the wrong way?

Why did I tell her that?

I hope she doesn’t think that I’m rude…

You were messing with his mind with every turn, but it wasn’t even all that, either. His size also played a part. Your form was so small as it trailed beside him on walks through the city – it fit in the clutch of his arm easily.

König was just scared he might break you, he’s never had to be…gentle so often before. It was against everything he’d been taught in the last decade or so.

Pushing open the front door of the KorTac: Private Military Contractor building, the man pushes on with a frown over his scarred lips and a drawn-in expression. He hadn’t even noticed he’d forgotten his surgical mask in his office, along with a jacket, and braved the volatile winds and slapping rain in a slight jog, an athletic shirt tight across his chest.

By the time he’d reached your apartment building, his hair was dark and stuck to his skin, slight puffs of breath escaping his lips and wracking shivers along his spine. König ascended the stairs in double steps, agile as his heart pounded.

Being ex-military left him with an undeniable state of readiness.

With heavy knuckles and panting breath, his hand quickly rasps against the door, and after a second of no sound, he does it again.

“Bӓrchen, it’s me. Are you there?” König’s shoulders are set, ready to batter the door down at the barest hint of something wrong. He calls your name but like a voice on the wind, there’s no answer. Not even a shadow under the barrier, a whiff of your shampoo.

Grunting, strained eyes going grim, the man’s hand encompasses the handle, arm and body going parallel to the wood. His hips tense, feet grinding over the floor as they set. But the nearly missed footsteps that his ears twitched at gives him pause.

After a few moments of intense listening, his body stone-stiff and eyes spaced out, there’s a clicking of a lock.

König moves back swiftly, hands going to rest at his sides, and when your face graces his vision, a large weight is lifted. Until he realizes that your eyes are red-rimmed. His lids go startlingly wide, fingers coming up to curl into themselves near his middle, but you speak before he does.

With a hatred for interrupting others, König keeps his lips sealed and watches with a concerned once-over and nervous lungs.

Your hand is clenched over the door frame, the muscle of your tongue licking at your lips as beads of water fall from your locks.

“What are you doing here, König?” With a voice more hoarse and dry than a desert. The man itches at the side of his hawk nose, hesitant about what he sees.

You’d never been like this before – always so happy.

“I…” He trails off quietly, seeing your eyes unwilling to meet his own. “Are you…alright?”

The Austrian’s fingers jerk when you laugh, and a surprised blink later he’s coming closer to check on you, hand almost outstretched before he sees the size difference and thinks better of it. He just taps on your cheek instead, delicately, like a hit from a flower.

“Sweet one? Please tell me what is wrong. You weren’t answering your phone.” He wants to beg for you to look at him, plead. “It made me worry for you. Why did you not respond?”

“So you want me to respond when you’re obviously bailing on me for what,” you pull back, disappearing partially behind the door. König watches with a still body as your arms go to wrap around your waist, dread creeping up his throat. “The third time? Fourth? I guess I’ve lost count.”

The man’s lips go thin, eyes crinkling as an expression of pure self-hatred takes hold. He had stupidly hoped you wouldn’t notice that. When times got tough for him in the past – whether with the schoolyard bullies or an operation on wrong, avoidance was usually his best tactic; it was one he had fallen back into time and time again without fail. But he’d never told you that.

And now he looked like a proper Arschloch.

But you’re not done yet. When you leave the door open and disappear inside the dark apartment, König follows after like a lost puppy, water still dripping from his strong chin and stuck in his stubble. Cursing himself out in his head.

“Ach, du Depp, jetzt hast du‘s getan. Die eine gute Sache ruiniert, die du hattest, oder...?" He mutters, slipping out of his boots and frantically looking after you as your form goes to the couch. König closes the front door and stays in the foyer, fingers twiddling and mouth opening and closing.

You hadn’t even looked at him yet, and you’d barely seen him without a mask on.

The Tv was on, playing some show that he’d never seen and he doubted you were watching. Your body plops to the couch with a shrieking of springs and bouncing of pillows. A small huff escapes your lips, though you speak no more.

König clears his throat again, a nasty nervous habit along with the fidgeting, as he takes a few steps forward. The finger of his right hand goes to spread through his hair, pushing the strands back like a red wave and unintentionally slicking them to his skull. The clicking of his jaw reverberates in his ears as he resets it, picking at the palate scar under his left nostril.

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it fitfully and already his face is reddening. König looks away from you for a moment, breathing before shuffling over like a guilty child would on drowned socks. He places one leg on the floor and kneels down in front of you so he can better look into your creased face.

“Bӓrchen,” he liked calling you that – little bear – because the comparison was enough to make him smile every time it passed his lips. It was such an endearing term that it became difficult to look past the blatant harm he could inflict on you if he wasn’t careful. While his size made him perfect for the field, home life was, well, let's just say he could easily force his way through a crowd. Not that he would, of course. But at any rate, that was what you were to him – a little bear. “I…I have to confess to you that I have been avoiding you, yes? That much has been,” a stiff breath is taken in. “Obvious.”

Your head turns to the side, knees brushing his own as you hold your hands in your lap. Behind König the show continues to play, spreading a silver light over the living room and the continuous droning of voices.

Not knowing whether it would be frowned upon or not, and with a steadying breath for confidence, the man loops a cold finger under your chin; bringing you back to him and finally setting your glossy eyes ahead.

He sees you blink in surprise when you find him maskless, and a faint smile flicks over his lips when your expression goes shy. Cautious like a bird.

“It was of no fault of your own, Sweetling, I ask that you believe me. I’ll try to explain the best I can, Ja? If you’ll let me, though, I know that I don’t deserve it.”

“If you don’t like me anymore, you can just say it…Stop dragging me on, please.” His heart stops, mouth still partially open before a sharp breath is sucked in. “I don’t know if I can take that anymore.” The pang in his chest hurts immensely, like taking an arrow and peeling back skin. You look at him so hopelessly, broken beyond belief as though a piece of you was being ripped out.

“W-why do you say that?” König tries to desperately stop the wetness of your tears from falling, shaking his head and cupping both of your cheeks, rubbing at the flesh in agony. “No, no, no, Dear One. That’s not what it is at all, I beg of you to listen.” In the fever, he switches between his native tongue and English, fingers shaking though not from the drenched clothes. “Meine Schöne, oh, meine Schöne. Bitte hör auf zu weinen.“

He takes quick breaths and finds in himself that he would do anything to stop you from crying – take a bullet, run a marathon, or learn to fly. Name it, any of it. Anything to wipe away the sadness that lives in your expression as if it even belonged there in the first place

“Do not cry over me, please, I-I,” König’s tongue trips over itself, but he persists, a similar burn in the back of his nose. “I…You scare me, Bӓrchen,” that gets your attention, creased eyes and a loose jaw going to give him full observation.

What?! Your expression screams.

Face on fire, the Austrian continues with intense eyes, dark obsidian awash with pure light that reflects stars. Overflowing with anxious tears that he refuses to let fall.

He can’t lose you. No, no, not you. You were the best thing to happen to him in a long time. Damn him – damn his own consciousness that’s more of a betrayer than Brutus. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go…

“...What?” Your voice wavers, nose twitching so adorably that the man is momentarily stunned.

“I am afraid of you, my Dear. Utterly and wholly.” König sucks down a breath, now the one unable to continue the stare-off. His foot shifts. “I am afraid of what you do to me. Your smile, Gott, your smile. A-and the way you speak, how you react so honestly to my paintings like you care with all of your heart.” He laughs wetly when you smile dimly, continuing as he caresses your skin. “Everything down to your very bones is like…like…” König’s words fumble, because comparing you to something earthly was impossible to him.

“Ever since I met you in that art store, I cannot string together words with any semblance of meaning when I am around you. Bӓrchen, you have entrapped my mind, and I am afraid.”

He watches you breathe in slowly, tears no longer falling, though the evidence still haunts him. The man’s chest lets go of a tightly wound knot, the anvil on the other side just narrowly missing his heart as the sweat on his brow evaporates.

“A-and,” König sighs, shaking his head and moving his hands to tightly hold your own in your lap. How could he explain the last part of this dilemma? He bluntly states, “you’re small.”

A brief moment of silence bleeds like a wound, long and slow, until a tiny snort echoes. Full-blown laughter emanates not even a second later, and he watches your body heave forward and slot itself with your nose in his shoulder. König’s blush stains all the way down his neck, but minuscule giggles also fall from him in retaliation to yours. His great arms wrap themselves around your waist, dragging you slightly closer as he breathes deeply.

Your scent pulls him under like a ship at the water, riding great waves with sea beasts under the waves guiding the vessel along its course.

“Everyone’s small compared to you.” Your mumbling in his shoulder makes his grip tighten, side-eyeing your visage as his head tilts down. “Not my fault you got every gene that made you sprout like a damn tree.”

With your lips caressing his neck, he blinks softly down at you, amused, as his breath mingles with your hair. He lets you speak, getting it all off your chest and feeling stupid for how he had been avoiding this.

“You’re afraid because you’re so big, then? That you might hurt me?”

“Ja.” Your hands circle around his shoulders, and with a sigh that leaves the man short of breath, you shimmy back and face him, fingers playing with the base of his neck; pulling at tiny hairs.

“Don’t you think being worried about that means something? And, c’mon,” you smile lightly to him, and he watches closely, fingers moving along your spine. “With how conscious you are of your body, it’s hard to imagine anything ever happening.”

Hands grasp his neck, and with a bobbing Adam’s apple, König yields to your pull, angling his head to you as your back straightens. Watching with awe; your silhouette bathed in silver light and eyes fatigued, though never more beautiful. You’re beaming.

“I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you, okay? So stop worrying about it, you big dope – and stop ditching me!” The Austrian’s dark eyes are fastly moved from one spot on your face to another, cataloging every bump and pore to memory.

He’d never been this close to you before, though he’d fantasized about it. And what you were telling him…it’s like his body deflates with relief, and a genuine, boyish, smile blossoms.

“Safe? W-with me, Bӓrchen? Oh-oh, my…” A kiss suddenly hits his forehead, and if you continued doing things like this, he was sure he’d explode. His body was vibrating with pure bashfulness; it was so odd to be complimented and doted on by someone that wasn’t his close family. For someone to reassure him of his flawed concerns.

She feels safe with me.

How could he tell you how happy that made him to hear aloud?

“Hey,” hands cup his jaw, and his spaced-out eyes snap back to you instantly, blinking away the rose-colored fog. You shake his head back and forth until he’s chuckling, like a kid again, and his grip catches your wrists to make you stop. Your breath fans over his blazing cheeks like a wind sent from Zephyrus himself, and the sticking clothes to his body matter little. “No more leaving me hanging, okay? I miss you, König. I want to be around you.”

The eyes that travel down his scarred and freckled face leave him slightly self-conscious, but as if sensing this, your lips curve. Before he could utter a grunt of surprise, your kiss had connected with the scar on his forehead, as well as the palate. Just brushing the top of his lips as his large nose poked your cheek.

“Mein Gott.” König gasps, eyes fluttering shut when you pull back and a grin slashes your face. A whisper meets the room.

“Thank you for showing me your handsome face, mein Schöner, I’ve been wondering what you looked like.” Shyly scanning his features, the redhead lets your fingers trace his flesh, shivers left in their wake, and a soft sigh.

If he opens his eyes, he’s afraid he’d start crying. So he lets you touch his scarlet flesh, nearly the same shade as his hair, though the auburn is more deep-set. Shivering every time you lay another press of your lips to a blemish; more addictive than drugs.

“You’re going to kill me,” König pleads, “but if this is punishment for causing you pain, I will gladly bear it.”

“Sly.” You smirk, pressing one more peck to his nose, and pulling back. He grumbles in his throat before his eyes peel open slowly; pupils blown wide and mouth parted. “Are you alive down there?”

“Barely. Perhaps I’ll need another kiss to tell, yes?”

“You’re horrible.” Looking at his clothes, your eyes suddenly go grim. Like you’d just noticed the state of him now that he was kneeling in front of you and struck by your beauty. “And shivering.” You huff. “Why didn’t you start by saying you were soaked to the bone, König?”

He looks to the ground, and you try to shuffle past and grab him a towel, but his arms trap you. You find yourself in a chest faster than you can blink, hands splayed over a pec that jerks as you’re lifted up.

König hears you squeak and laughs, throwing you up into a bridal-style hold easily. Laughing chest-deep, you curl under his chin and quickly comment, “what are you doing?!”

“Hush, Bӓrchen,” the man squishes you closer, “I’ll find a towel, don’t strain yourself.”

You direct him to the bathroom after he sets you on your bed, hearing the pounding of rain outside as he sneaks off.

The room smells of your shampoo, and König takes a pastel towel from the wrack after half-closing the door, slapping it to his head and violently rubbing it back and forth. Lost in his elevated thoughts and happy demeanor, the knock on the wood is almost missed. He’s just about to take off his shirt and wring it out when he blinks at the sound.

“König – I’ve got some spare clothes, but I doubt they’ll fit you well enough.” An amused twitch of his lips later, he’s opening the door to your soft face, staring down at it. Standing shyly, your eyes crease; head tilting. “Sleepover?”

The man looks at the pile of fabric and nods kindly, a lofty feeling in his bones.

“Yes, please. They’re perfect, vielen Dank.” It isn’t long before he’s coming back out, a shirt that barely fits over his wide chest and a pair of sweats clinging to his hips. But he didn’t mind.

They smelled like you, and thus, he smelled like you. König quickly found out that drawing wasn’t the only thing that could calm him.

An embarrassed smile and a sheen of giddiness never leave his face.

He slides into bed with you, and you quickly latch under his arm, limbs tangling with his own as his fingers twitch over the width of the base of your shoulder blades. An easy expulsion of air leaves him as your weight settles, back curving to the make of the mattress.

The words leave him in the delicate silence; water hitting the window and during the exploration of souls. Cheeks hot and heart hammering.

“Sei mein?” Be mine?

He feels your grin, nose nuzzling his flesh like it was the perfect pillow, and his heart speeds like a shooting star.

“Mein Herz war immer deins. Ja.” My heart was always yours. Yes.

He stays awake for a long while, listening to your breathing and staring at the ceiling, running knuckles over your spine and staying silent.

Smiling.

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