#lostintransit

[lostintransist]

Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

[dramioneasks]

Dry Kindling and a Kettle - Lostintransit - T, 40 chapters - Draco finds an emaciated Hermione Granger under the care of Melinda Summers, a famous witch who is caring for his mother in her final days. Backroom deals and a deeply buried spark lead to Hermione being in Draco's care.

[magneticovitalblog]

Estar Perdidos en la Vida

En los senderos oscuros de la vida, donde el alma se pierde y se confunde, buscamos sin cesar una salida, en el laberinto eterno que se funde.

¿Por qué, acaso, estamos tan perdidos, entre los sueños rotos y los miedos? Como barcos sin rumbo, derretidos, en los abismos de nuestros desvelos.

Las calles se tornan laberintos, donde el tiempo se pierde en el olvido, y el corazón se llena de lamentos, mientras el alma busca su sentido.

En la quietud de la noche estrellada, buscamos respuestas en lo profundo, y el eco de nuestras voces apagadas, nos susurra verdades en este mundo.

A veces, la melancolía nos abraza, y el desasosiego nubla nuestra mente, pero en cada derrota, aún hay esperanza, para encontrar el camino que nos oriente.

En el amor, hallamos una luz brillante, que ilumina los pasos que hemos dado, y aunque el dolor nos golpee implacable, el amor nos levanta, siempre a su lado.

Entonces, en cada desorientación, en cada momento de incertidumbre, recordemos que en el amor hay redención, y que nuestros sueños pueden renacer en la cumbre.

Perdidos estamos, sí, en ocasiones, pero siempre hay un sol que nos ilumina, y en el abrazo cálido de las pasiones, nuestra alma herida se cura y se fascina.

Así, navegamos por los mares de la vida, con el corazón lleno de valentía, y aunque estemos perdidos en la partida, encontraremos el amor y la alegría.

Pues, en los momentos de más oscuridad, es cuando nuestra luz brilla con mayor intensidad, y aunque a veces perdidos podamos estar, encontraremos nuestro rumbo, sin temer a la adversidad.

[bekkoned]

So naive of you to assume my darkness is less than your own, less of a mass, less of a presence, less of a threat.

I see your darkness. It bleeds onto your clothes, your skin, seeps into your blood. You spread it everywhere.

Sometimes people think they are fertilising weeds when they are poisoning a whole garden.

See, my darkness doesn't sit on my sleeve. I don't wear it on my clothes or let it ride on my skin. I don't flush it through my system.

My darkness sits in a locked box in my heart, guarded endlessly by the compassion I feel for you all. My darkness doesn't seep from my pores because I understand that if I let those toxins flow you all suffocate.

You look at me as though I am delicate, yet you do not know how big this box has become or how many demons it contains- you don't know how dark my darkness is.

You don't see the scars.. and honestly it is not because they aren't visible but because you do not want to see them- you prefer the fantasy of untouched beauty like everyone else.

So I face my darkness alone. I stare in contempt into the eyes of mine own demons and fight for my life. I make peace with memories pulled straight from jump-scare horror movies and r-rated thrillers.

The Devil can hate me but he must respect me for walking through his hell and turning back with my head up just to flip him the bird.

And I could hate him back but every demon he has sent to hurt my feelings, bruise my skin or break my heart now sits in a locked box with my darkness and as it's weight grows- so does my strength to carry it.

My darkness doesn't own me... I own it. I am the dungeon master, the keeper of monsters, the mother of dragons.

So please don't assume that my darkness is less than yours, that it lacks mass, that it is not a threat.... my darkness is only not a threat to you because I take that burden on alone.

In return, I will offer you the same respect.

-The Broke Revolutionary

[dhr-ao3]

Cast The Bronze

Cast The Bronze https://ift.tt/JqynGxi by Lostintransit Ten years post war Hermione escapes her marriage with a nasty divorce and an aversion to being seen in public. A surprise meeting with Draco Malfoy reignites a previous friendship and possibly more. With new characters, school flashback chapters, and a deep hate for the Daily Prophet this shoudl be a good time for all. (This reads like a commerical and I don't know to make it not sound like that so uh I promise my actual writting is better that this?) Words: 7, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermine Granger, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Original Characters Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: #divorcedhermione, #postwar, #ronbashing, #fuckthedailyprophet, #secondchance, #angst, #hurt/comfort, #hea via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/4nrUNkg January 20, 2024 at 07:57AM

[hrlinfotechs]

When you finally get an update on your missing Amazon inventory 🤦‍♀️ We HRL Infotechs offer on and off Amazon ppc, advertising campaigns and sponsored ads management services for different industries, including Fashion & Beauty, Home & Decor, Electronics, Sports & Fitness, Toys & Games, Tools & Home Improvement, Health & Household, Pet Supplies, Automotive, Industrial & Scientific and more! . . #amazon #inventory #lostintransit #inventorymanagement #amazonmarketing #amazonmeme #meme #amazonmemes #amazonseller #amazonsellers #amazonsellersofinstagram #amazonsellerservices #amazonsellerlife #amazonsellerclub #amazonselleruk #amazonsellersclub #seller #sellers #selleronline #selleshop #ecommerceseller #ecommercesellers #ecommercestore #ecommercemarketing #ecommercelife

[shirozen]

The failed zipper #abunaday #daily #bunny #doodle #lostintransit #brokenzipper #一日一兔 #拉链 #artistoninstagram #illustrator #illustratoroninstagram #artist https://www.instagram.com/p/CYHNLirJki-/?utm_medium=tumblr

[solkiki]

#Repost @adventures_of_rhubarb with @get_repost ・・・ Finding new vegan products makes me so excited! This week it’s @solkiki_chocolatemaker Looking forward to trying these and hopefully can find out where the other 3 missing ones are 😢🤨 #lostintransit #vegan #new #solkikichocolate #veganchocolate https://www.instagram.com/p/CDn-f39DQW8/?igshid=nk3govbxidok

[medici12]

@michaelreidberlin MARC ETHERINGTON'S paintings for his Berlin solo exhibition earlier this year, never arrived to the gallery... Marc's brilliant response to these works being missing in transit is a brand new series. Featuring a new protagonist, a hypothetical Canada Post worker who has stolen Marc's paintings and has placed them in each room of his home, quietly adorning what appears to be an otherwise desolate home. In this new work you can see the painting, 'Wolf songs', which was supposed to feature in the original exhibition from Marc. We'll keep you posted with any new developments! @hugeskull #marcetherington #goingpostal #wolfsongs #lostintransit #michaelreidsydney #michaelreidberlin (at Michael Reid Berlin) https://www.instagram.com/p/CFohr16jaPh/?igshid=ap9mz7l1u010

[theartofvoid-blog]

Lost In Transit 6. #trains #lost #lostsouls #lostintransit #benching #dubbeldekker #blackandwhite #brussels #trainstation #movingsteel

[jasonpcorbett]

Happily @jackpeppiette @oliviachelltattoo and myself have had our art entries for @tattoocollectivelondon returned to us after they were delivered late and left in the doorstep of the closed convention centre. Many thanks to Eastside Tattoo on Bethnal Green Road for rescuing them for us - diamonds! Grant, Zack @mrjohntattoo @dianajaytattoo #lostintransit #yeswedidart #thanksnothanksups (at Insider Tattoo)

[harshrao9]

Woh Ek Kahani ki tarah Chalti Rahi, Mai Ek Kissa tha jo Khatam Hua! . . . . . #woaurmain #hdr #picsart #edits #filter #potrait #lostintransition #fin #maiaurwoh #sirftum #poetry #dolafz (at Beyond Kitchen & Bar) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5XvB6tlsiHEmkkUcalUKXZ8ewRgLumK2t0TdI0/?igshid=1ak3vcqy1fkhm

[bekkoned]

A Cautionary Tale: complete

A cautionary tale is mine

Filled with pain and too much wine

And a lover who says that he's fine

As he chokes on another line

...

Oh this life of mine

Leaving it all behind

Oh woe is me

Dreaming about what I could have been

...

Our children were taken by the system you see

Young Alice was nine and Julio three

I asked Alice now she's growing

What would she like to be

She said anyone but me... anyone but me

...

So I crawled to my home in some welfare town

Found a bottle of gin and drank it all down

Went to bed feeling like the most spectacular clown

Yet woke up with a tear and a frown

...

Now I've hit my fifties

And that life is behind me

I have been set free from my past

I am more than what I was

I Have everything I ever needed

because now I've got your love

...

Oh this life of mine

I wouldnt leave it behind

Oh woe is me

I've become who I was meant to be

...

[dhr-ao3]

Dry Kindling and a Kettle

Dry Kindling and a Kettle https://ift.tt/ge7kzQO by Lostintransit Draco finds an emaciated Hermione Granger under the care of Melinda Summers, a famous witch who is caring for his mother in her final days. Backroom deals and a deeply buried spark lead to Hermione being in Draco's care. Words: 2233, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, George Weasley Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Post-Canon, Trauma, Anxiety Attacks, Death to the author, Minor Character Death, Tattooed Draco via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/6Rn1D7p June 04, 2023 at 07:15PM

[cynicalboy-13]

This is by far my most favourite picture in my phone and also the one with the most dramatic story. This picture was taken on the May 23, 2018 around 6pm. This was taken during my “BBRATTACK” Ride. We had left Durgapur at 8am with Siliguri as our destination.According to Google Maps, the distance of 500kms was to take 10 hours to cover and as we were on bikes we anticipated that we’d cover the distance much faster and be in Siliguri by 4pm or even earlier. However we did not anticipate what was in store for us. Sand in place of national highways and no Tarmac for virtually the first 250 kilometres costed us 6 hours! Add temperatures of 45+ degrees to the mix and you truly have hell on earth. By far one of the most gruelling rides and roads I’ve been on, the first 250 kilometres turned my black jacket into brown with white streams of salt(that came from my sweat) on the sleeves and shoulders! After a quick lunch we left Bhagalpur aka chaos on Earth, at 4pm with hopes of crossing a town called Purnea asap as there were good 3 and 2 lane roads leading up to Siliguri from then on. Purnea has approximately 5 circular traffic signals and not your average crossroad signals. And for the first 4 of them I followed the directions correctly towards Siliguri. At the final circle however, I missed the direction as I saw the start of good tarmac which appeared like a spring in an oasis and sped straight like a child who saw candy! Unfortunately Siliguri was to the right! 😂 Only after an hour of riding and the apparent lack of fellow riders behind me made me realise that I was lost. And when I checked with the rider who was behind me, I found out that I was lost and was 250 odd kilometres from Siliguri with no shortcuts to get there but to go back . It was just before that phone call I stopped and took these set of pictures just before the sun completely set! I can still remember very vividly the shock and fear that I had as I made my way back to Purnea and all the way back to Siliguri! What a night that was! The last pic is of my group who waited anxiously for my safe arrival without sleep 😬 #triumphstreettwin #streetwin #BBRATTACK #bikeishappiness #travel #lostintransit (at Forbesganj)

[sidthemeditatingsloth-blog]

Moonrise over Melancholia.. (c) Siddharth Krishnan #newyork #newyorkcity #nyc #queens #astoria #astoriablvd #grandcentral #highway #midnightrushhour #traffic #moon #moonrise #orangemoon #fullmoon #nightphotography #cellphonephotography #shadowsandsilhouettes #lostintransit #unedited #nofilter (at Astoria, New York)