ℭ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫: 𝔓𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔠

Walking through the halls, with a dead sort of stare. Not intentionally intimidating, but it's very much a resting bitch face, look at me and I'll kill you sort of expression.

Saying as little as possible to people he's not comfortable with.

"yes."

"no."

"I don't like that."

"I don't want to."

"we are not friends."

Staring so intently at people that it unsettles them.

"-and that's why I think... Why... It's... Is everything okay, Colonel?"

"Ja, why?"

"You're, uh... You're looking very intently."

"This is just how I look. Eye contact is important."

"uhh... Right, it's just... I haven't seen you blink?"

"I blink when you blink."

Like, yes, of course there are situations where he gets mousy voiced or sweaty palms. But not at work, no. At work he's able to conjure up, maybe not confidence, but something.

At a restaurant though? Speaking softly, making himself small, saying please and thank you after every sentence. It doesn't matter what the server does, he's always soft spoken and polite, nervous. If he asks for no pickles and they bring him his dish with pickles, he'll eat it. If he orders a chicken sandwich and they bring him a burger, he'll eat it. If he tells them that he has a deadly peanut allergy and they bring him a tub of peanut butter... He'll send that back, but he'll be polite about it.

"Oh, ja, I'm sorry, I... This isn't what I ordered. Oh, no, no, it's okay, don't apologize. I'm sorry. You're busy. It's fine, I understand."

Sometimes during mission briefs he will randomly growl and smack his fist on the table. People think he's mad at them and straighten up, stop sipping so loud, on their best behaviour. He actually just got mad at himself, remembered something embarrassing from his past.

He almost acts like a narcissist. Passes by a mirror, winks at his reflection: "How's it going, good looking?"

Makes jokes about being the pretty one. People think he's full of himself.

He actually hates himself but has replaced negative self talk with show boating. He doesn't hate himself any less, but he tells himself to kill himself way less often!

Always has some sort of plan. An escape route, a plan of attack. Watching the people around him nervously.

Sits in the back of the room so he can watch everybody. Sits with his chair pushed far back so he can stand quicker.

Glares at people who walk by. Gives their dogs heart eyes. Prays that the owners realize and ask him if he wants to say hello. He's too awkward to ask permission. And he's too angry looking for people to offer.

Represses lots of anger from incidents he feels he can't lash out in, goes batshit in training or on missions. (I used to do kick boxing, the gym people had to keep coming up to me and moving my punching bag back because I was hitting it too hard).

The kind of person to, when going to someone's house, immediately look for signs of a pet. If he finds it. The animal is now his best friend. Goes to a party hangs with the dog type of beat.

Thinks smoking pot would help him. But the idea makes him nervous. Which he thinks, smoking pot would help... But the idea of smoking pot makes him nervous. But he–

Will just lie to get out of shit.

"Hey, we're going to get drinks tonight, do you want to come?"

"ah, I can't... I promised to get dinner with a friend."

Goes home and enjoys a night alone.

Avoidant. Will just not do things that cause him stress. Hasn't been to the dentist in years because talking to the lady at reception makes him nervous. What if the phone signal is bad? What if it just keeps breaking up? What if she can't understand his accent? What if when he gets to the dentist they hate him for the state of his teeth? What if he goes to the dentist and they steal his teeth?! It's happened before! He's seen articles!

Gets adopted by extroverts by being unhinged.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Horangi asks.

"I heard that human meat tastes like pork... The best pork, actually." König says absently.

"Huh... And you know this why?"

"I was curious."

"okay... Let's go to dinner."

"Ja, let's."

A sort of dry air about him that comes off as a lack of empathy. But he's just got so much going on in his brain that he can't focus on emoting anything but augghskft.

Will stare off into space with a blend of the hundred yard stare and the most murderous expression known to man. He's not mad. He's just thinking.

Undiagnosed autism

Forgets people's names, gets to nervous to ask again. So he just calls everyone "you".

Acts cold and indifferent. He just really hates small talk, doesn't understand it. Why say something if it's not important? He doesn't care about your grandchildren. Or your wife. Or your morning.

Is the world's best host mainly out of fear. Asking if you need food or a drink or a blanket or if–

König who after confrontations, has to take a step back, hands shaking slightly. But who's also still super pissed and ready to throw punches at the drop of a hat

König who worries so much about physical affection that it just becomes too much. Hugs are suffocating, hands are held too tight, cuddling is like being smothers. But it takes him a long time to initiate anything. God forbid you initiate anything. Hug the man and he bluescreens

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This is wrong, and you know it.

Despite the fact that you’ve never so much as even kissed Levi Ackerman, let alone actually touched him in such a way, you’re well aware with every fiber of your being that it’s wrong. 

You knew it was wrong from the start, back when you’d avert your gaze from the silver band left discarded on your night table, turning instead to face Levi from where he stood leaning against the wall across the room. 

It was a silent agreement born out of the Scout Regiment captain furiously bursting into your home unannounced in search of your husband late one evening, the lock on the front door splintering uselessly beneath the unforgiving force of his boot. He had a bone to pick with the Garrison captain, one that had him stomping through the house, unaware that the object of his irritation was off on business in another district. 

With the loud rush of water pouring into the bath drowning everything else out, you had no idea you weren’t alone in the house until Levi brusquely pushed the bathroom door open with no regard for potentially cornering the captain in a state of undress. But instead, he found you with your head tossed back against the lip of the porcelain tub, water still rushing from the faucet, lips parted for your breathy little moans as you spread your legs beneath the rising soapy water and began to relieve the maddening heat between your thighs with your fingers.

Not one to beat around the bush, Levi had cleared his throat, standing there in the middle of the room looking down at you with his arms crossed. While tension was still visible in the set of his shoulders, his expression was otherwise unreadable. 

You had served alongside Levi as a team leader amongst the Scouts for several years—years full of lingering glances, mixed signals, and so much unresolved tension, you had been choking on it. 

Frustration had eventually found you in the bed of Matteo, a Garrison captain who had taken a liking to you—much to Levi’s displeasure. One thing led to another, and within a few months, you were married. Your pregnancy came shortly thereafter, at which point you were discharged from the Survey Corps for the sake of your health.

Levi hadn’t spoken to you since the day you packed up your office at the base, offering you nothing more than one last sweep of his penetrating gaze as he muttered, “Good luck.”

Despite the months of silence, as he stood there—boots a stark contrast against the white marble adorning the bathroom floor—it became abundantly clear the unspoken thing that always hung heavily in the air between you had yet to dissipate. Far from it.

“I take it he’s not here,” he had ventured.

Sinking slightly lower into the soapy water, you turned off the faucet with your foot.

“He’s not.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account then,” he’d said mildly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, thighs clenching together with the achingly traitorous throb of arousal that coursed through you at being caught in the act.

Caught by him.

Without letting yourself second guess what you were about to do, you’d slipped two fingers back into the heat between your thighs, his steady eye contact making your heart pound heavily in your chest as you fingered yourself with Levi as your silently captivated audience. 

And so, somehow, it became a habit—Levi would quietly slip away from the barracks when your husband wasn’t home, offering you no pleasantries nor conversation, just his rapt attention as you touched yourself for him. Sometimes in the bath, occasionally when you were curled up on the sofa downstairs, once in the kitchen. But mostly in your room, legs spread wide on carnal display as the other side of your mattress remained cold and empty, your ring finger left bare.  

He never said much, and neither of you ever outright acknowledged what you were doing. As if the silence stifled the truth behind the pangs of lust and want that constantly simmered deep in your abdomen, day in and day out. 

After you found him frustratedly palming the obvious erection tented at the front of his pants one evening, clearly unable to wait to take care of things in private, you’d begged him to touch himself, too. You came harder on your own fingers than you ever had on any man’s cock that night, fingering yourself to the sight of Captain Levi fucking Ackerman slumped down on the floor in your room, biting his fist and cursing as he furiously stroked his flushed, leaking shaft. 

You quelled the budding guilt in your chest by reminding yourself again and again that you weren’t even touching him, the two of you were simply pleasuring yourselves in the same room. And if the slick arousal between your legs soon turned into a gushing flood whenever you were an observer to the sight of the Captain fucking his fist, well, that was a secret best kept between you and your fingers alone. 

At one point or another, Levi began to migrate from the wall across the room to a chair beside your bed. And this is how you find him now, his muscled thighs spread wide as he rocks his hips upward into the firm grip of his fist while you moan and writhe atop the mattress.

It’s wrong, how badly you want him. How much you want to climb into his lap in that chair, to sink down onto his fat cock and ride him until he fills you with every last drop of his seed. How often you fantasize about leaving Matteo, especially the nights he comes home late from patrols with alcohol lingering on his breath and the suspicious, cloying stench of perfume clinging to the collar of his jacket. 

But the growing roundness of your belly is a constant reminder of just how complicated your situation is, with no easy break in sight.

“Look at me,” Levi’s voice is rough as he pulls you from your thoughts.

Despite the fact that the two of you never actually touch, the intimacy of this depraved ritual makes you tremble—Levi’s jacket left strewn across the back of the chair. His shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned, a tantalizing sliver of his chest left exposed. Black strands of hair strewn haphazardly across his face, lips parted and slick with saliva. Pupils blown wide with lust. Knuckles white as he tightly grips his cock. 

To see him undone like this makes you weak.

Reckless.

You’ve never felt quite so seen as you do under his steely gray gaze, the nearly imperceptible reactions that tug at his stern facial features with every little whimper and moan that leaves your lips.

“What’s…” Levi suddenly blurts out before he trails off, voice pitched in an odd tone.

Glancing down, you quickly realize what he’s referring to, taking in the sight of the two wet stains that have formed on the front of your nightgown. Your breasts have begun to produce milk recently, sometimes leaking at inopportune times, though this is the first it’s happened during one of Levi’s visits.

“I’m sorr—“ you try to apologize, embarrassed.

But Levi cuts you off with a loud, gruff moan, eyes glued to the dampness hugging your breasts as he swiftly catches the thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock with the washcloth that had been folded neatly over his thigh.

You begin to notice a pattern after that—Levi’s eyes will often stray to your chest as the two of you touch yourselves, lingering for a moment. And the nights when he finds your nightgown damp with the milk leaking from your nipples beneath, you swear you can feel the tension in the air go taut as a bowstring before it quickly snaps, sending him over the edge with a climax that has the feet of his wooden chair groaning backward across the floor. 

–

Maybe it was the way Matteo left this morning, hardly a look in your direction as he shrugged on his jacket and made his way out the door.

Or maybe it was the way Levi arrived, unable to keep the curve out of his lips when he uncharacteristically tucked a small yellow flower behind your ear.

Regardless, something’s left you feeling emboldened tonight when Levi settles down in the chair beside the bed, freeing his waiting erection from the confines of his pants. Bold enough to cross an invisible line you know doesn’t even exist anymore, not really.

Your tits ache relentlessly as of late, swollen and heavy with milk, and you’ve been leaking far more often. So when you feel your nightgown already growing damp when you’ve only just begun to toy with your slit, you’re not surprised. But rather than let the cotton stick to your chest, you don’t hesitate to pull down the thin straps instead, allowing your tits to spill out.

Levi’s answering harsh intake of air is audible, and you can’t say you don’t take pleasure in having truly caught him off guard for once. When you turn to face him after a beat, the look on his face makes your head spin, eyes dark with heady, unabashed desire. 

And maybe it’s wrong.

Maybe it's always been wrong.

But right now, you don’t care.

All you care about is the way his entire body tenses when you bring one hand up to your breast and squeeze, letting milk spray out. He looks utterly transfixed, so you use both hands to fondle your tits, letting the milk freely leak everywhere as he grips the chair with one hand while pumping his dick with the other. The wood groans, threatening to splinter.

Nobody’s ever looked at you the way Levi is now—like he wants to consume you.

Like he’d cut down a thousand Titans just to close the gap between the chair and the mattress.

Like he doesn’t give a shit if this is wrong, either.

And it’s that which loosens your lips to say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for weeks, since the first night your wet shirt sent him careening over the edge.

“Do you want a taste?”

The shredded, frayed threads holding together the last of Levi’s self-control snap, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor the only warning before he’s pressed against the side of the bed, taking one of your breasts into his scorching hot mouth. You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch as Levi sucks at one of your tits while squeezing the other, letting the milk freely dribble down his hand. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back so he can lick broad, firm strokes across both of your tits with his tongue, lapping up every sticky, wet smear of milk. 

When he’s cleaned up the mess—temporarily—he pauses, glancing up at you with a wild look in his eyes, milk dripping from his full lips.

“Levi,” you whimper, unable to stop yourself from tangling your fingers in his hair.

A grunt of pleasure leaves his lips when you tug, and he lets you pull his face back into your chest. A fresh gush of arousal leaks from your cunt at the feeling of his teeth grazing your sensitive nipples, callused fingertips kneading the soft skin of your breasts as he greedily drinks from you.

“Don’t stop,” you keen, spreading your thighs and pulling up the hem of your nightgown as your fingers seek out your pulsing cunt. 

“Couldn’t if I tried,” he exhales, breathing hard, his hair entirely askew, cheeks and chin entirely soaked with your milk.

With both of his hands occupied, the bed frame groans as he ruts against it, flushed cock smearing precum along the edge of your sheets. 

“Need more,” you plead, because there’s no turning back now.

Levi doesn’t hesitate to oblige you, continuing to milk your swollen tits with his lips and left hand as his right snakes between your legs, batting your own hand away to slip two dexterous fingers into the slick, velvety walls of your pussy.

You both moan at the intrusion, and his lips brush against your achingly hard nipples as he murmurs, “Are you always this wet?” Another finger joins the first two, stretching you open even further. “For me?”

“Yes,” you exhale, rocking your hips into his touch.

And then his mouth comes crashing into yours, lips slotting together like he’s been studying the shape of them for days.

Months.

Years.

Levi’s kiss is every bit as hungry, greedy, and all-consuming as you’ve always imagined, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with the subtlety of a wildfire as you tug him up beside you onto the bed.  He’s confident and precise, like he already knows each button to push, every little way to have you gasping and moaning into his mouth. 

And when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, thumb playing with your swollen clit as he crooks his fingers in your soaked channel, you come without warning, keening and shaking as he strokes you through the aftershocks of searing pleasure exploding inside of you. 

You reach for Levi as you come down from the haze of your climax, an unapologetic groan spilling from his lips when your fingers wrap about this throbbing cock. With your other hand, you tug him by the hair back down to your breasts. He’s quick to take the hint, lips suckling at your leaking tits once more as you stroke him

An idea suddenly occurs to you, and your mouth quirks upward with a smirk that he can’t see as you let go of his dick to palm at one of your breasts instead. You bring your attention back to his shaft a moment later, satisfaction curling in your gut at the downright depraved moan that you pull from him as you coat his length with the fresh milk now dripping from your palm. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips jerking into your lubricated touch.

“I made a mess, so I think it’s only fair if you do, too, Levi,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his hair as he squeezes a spray of milk from your breast and lets it coat his lips and tongue.

Continuing to stroke him, the rhythm with which he jerks his hips upward soon turns to an uncoordinated stutter, and the way he continues to mouth at your breasts grows sloppy, his entire body tensing up.

“Come all over me.”

And that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, his body swiftly shifting upward and positioning his cock to dump rope after rope of thick, hot cum all over your milk-soaked tits. You whimper, cunt clenching around nothing at the filthy sight.

“Tch. What a fucking mess,” he murmurs as he leans in, not giving you time to respond before closing his plush lips back over one of your tender, leaking nipples.

Laswell is a high level intelligence analyst with over a decade of experience in and off the field. Her acumen for statecraft and spyfare is incredible. This woman graduated Suma Cum Laude from Cornell, has a Master's degree in strategic intelligence analysis and studied Near East linguistics at the American University of Beirut. She speaks fluent Arabic, knows her way around weapons, and once broke a terrorist's neck with her bare hands.

(LOOK AT HER!)

Her bio says that Laswell rewrote the book on unconventional information warfare, climbed the ranks and became her own female mentor. She's survived a terrorist bombing, became a station chief, refused to testify before a senate hearing, was in charge of a SAD blacksite, and has been credited with saving tens of thousands of lives.

-and that's just the stuff from her bio.

Laswell is a support character during the entire series, but without her the entire story would crumble. Laswell is the one to recruit Price to find the missing Russian chemicals in MW2019. She is the one to find Hassan in MW2022. She is the one who went out in the field herself to see the job is done correctly. All of the information that 141, Alex and Farah, and Los Vaqueros act upon comes directly from Laswell. Hell, this woman got captured by Al-Qatala in the process of trying to find the missing missiles. Laswell is the one to find out how Shadow Company and Shepherd lost them in the first place. She's the one who tugs on the Russian thread and reveals the villain of MW2023, Makarov.

Laswell's achievements are often overshadowed by the plot and gameplay, but goddamn is she such a great example of a powerful female character, and an older one at that! (Note, older refers to being older than many female heroines in their 20's, not to be confused with being old.) I can't think of an instance in any of the games where she is sexualized or objectified, and even when she is kidnapped she's shown not as a damsel in distress, but as a woman who can hold her own as soon as the time is right. Plus, what does she do immediately after being rescued? Goes straight back to business and figures out the real root of the campaign.

I admit I'm fairly surprised to see such a well written female character in a series that historically caters to men. The writers for the game did a fantastic job in creating an absolutely amazing character who is skilled, well-rounded, and extremely compelling. Please hear it for the queen herself!

Also gay rights to Laswell and her wife specifically 💅

Terms of endearment:

(Mein) Schatz / Schätzchen / Schatzi (general term of endearment)

Meine Liebe (my love)

Mein(e) liebe(r) (my dear) -> Mein_ lieber (male ver), Meine liebe (fem ver) yes, just a change in capital letter :,)

Kleine Maus (little mouse)

(Kleines) Mäuschen ((little) mouse, but cute-ified)

Mein(e) Süße(r) (my cutie) -> Meine Süße (fem vers), Mein_ Süßer (male ver)

Words/phrases:

Mein(e) Kleine(r) (my little one) -> Meine Kleine (fem ver), Mein_ Kleiner (male ver)

Liebling (darling)

Bitte [?] (please OR come again if there's a question mark following up)

Danke (thanks)

Du (you, informal)

Sie (always capitalize the 'S' if referring to "you" but formally)

Vorsicht (caution/attention)

Komm' (come)

Beeil' dich (hurry up; informal)

Beeilen Sie sich (hurry up; formal)

Sicher? (sure?)

Ist es sicher? (Is it safe?)

Pass' auf (be careful; informal)

Passen Sie auf (be careful; formal)

after a long fucking day of mission debriefing and coordinating training operations for the unit, simon desperately needed to be buried deep inside your tight little pussy. didn't even bother to greet you with a proper "hello" when he walked through the front door, he just scoops you up like a rag doll and carries you off to your bedroom.

he'd lay down on his back with you straddling his waist, not even bothering to kick off his combat boots as you began to unbuckle his uniform pants. you'd be such a little tease about it, too, kissing the underside of his jaw while your nimble fingers cup his cock through his boxer briefs. 

"so needy for me, eh?" you'd murmur against the skin of his neck, your lips latching onto his sensitive pulse point. "need me to take care of you, si?"

he'd roll his hips against the palm of your hand, his hands gripping at the fat of your ass. he was desperate, needed to fuck out his frustration of the day.

"... fuck woman— f-fuckin' killin' me—" simon babbles, arching his neck to allow you more access.

simon's eyes were squeezed shut, a shiver running down his spine as the cool touch of your hand makes contact with his painfully stiff shaft. he’s so fucking close to reaching nirvana, so fucking close—

BARKBARKBARK

simon swore he'd buy a damn muzzle tomorrow after work.

you scrambled off of simon's lap, opening the door to investigate the little terror going crazy outside of your bedroom. your puppy scurried past you, hopping onto your bed with one great bound, and immediately started his barking right back up again.

you giggled at the sound, taking a seat on the bed while simon tucked his shaft back into the confines of his briefs. he glared at the little demon; if it wasn't for you, he'd properly chuck it into the backyard through the window right now. the puppy curled into your lap as you showered it with love and attention.

"i guess little ghost needed some lovin'," you cooed, holding the cute puppy up to your husband. the dog's brown eyes widened at the sight of simon, letting out a happy bark in some form of greeting.

simon would just groan in return, plopping right back down onto his back. he'd murmur something unintelligible; you'd faintly catch something about his "little ghost needing love too—”

my (be)loved : mein liebster / meine liebste

my love/my dear : meine Liebe / mein Liebling

(however, if you were to say for example : „my dear y/n” the German translation would be : „mein lieber y/n / meine liebe y/n”)

In the same sense, "The Love of my life" would be: Die Liebe meines Lebens , even if the reader is masc. or fem. It‘s confusing, I know.

my treasure (a very German nickname) (and to a certain degree it means 'dear' as well) (you can also use it for 'honey'): mein Schatz. You can also use just 'Schatz', e.g. : „Schatz, kannst du das für mich holen?” (translation: "Dear/Honey, could you get this for me?")

baby (yea Germans use it too) : Baby/Babe

my bunny (albeit in English a very uncommon nickname, it is very common and normal in Germany) : mein Hasi / Hase / Häschen (i will explain the words with 'chen' at the end)

my angel : mein Engel / Engelchen

my bear (again I think a very uncommon nickname in English, but pretty common in German) (but I also have to mention that the nickname my bear is not something youngster use, it‘s more of a people in their 40's & 50's type of thing now) : mein Bär / Bärchen

you cutie : du süßer / du süße

you are cute : du bist süß

if you want to JUST say 'cute' or 'adorable', you can use one of these : süß / niedlich / knuffig (although knuffig is a extremely cute/adorable endearment and would most probably be used only in private) (and yes you can say „du bist niedlich / knuffig” if you wanna say 'you are cute‘ too)

a nickname that women use for their men or men for their men but rarely men for their women (probably because the men are usually the taller/bigger ones) is 'big one' (I will give the translation for the 'men for their women' regardless) : mein großer / meine große . This is mainly used when the one person is worried about the other person, e.g. : „Alles okay mein großer? Alles okay meine große?”, (translation: 'Everything okay, big one?')but I‘m sure it can be used in a normal and/or s3xual manner as well. I have also heard people call their dogs & kids „mein großer / meine große”, so do with it what you will.

little one: kleiner / kleines

To mirror the "Big one", you could also say little one, a different little one from the previously mentioned nickname. Because the "Big one" is actually "My Big One" so "My little one" would be : mein kleiner / meine kleine. I know it‘s a bit confusing but please bear with me. It‘s all about the situation. If, e.g., König says "Little one, sit down" you would write "Kleiner / Kleines, sit down". However, if in a situation he says sth like "My little one, are you injured?", the version w german words would be "Mein kleiner / Meine kleine, are you injured?“. Not that much difference except the fact that the fem version looses the s at the end, I just wanted to point that out.

good girl : gutes Mädchen (but technically you could also use : braves Mädchen)

good boy : guter Junge (other version would be : braver Junge) (to elaborate : brav means ‚well-behaved', but to translate good girl/good boy, both gut&brav can be used, so pick your fighter)

from here on out, I‘m gonna quickly translate a few nicknames which are usually not used in Germany but you can because at the end of the day it’s free game. And let me use this moment to clarify that even though all of these words are gender neutral, it is gender neutral towards the reader, that means the words themselves have a gender. But since the gender is not directed towards the reader but the gender of the other word, be it an object or living being, it is considered gender neutral. I‘ll try showcasing it with the first example.

my pearl : meine Perle (the word Pearl in German is Perle and it has a gender, it is feminine. However, when using it as an endearment or nickname, it is counted as gender neutral) (I previously mentioned the nickname 'my angel‘ and it is in the same category. Angel in German means Engel and it‘s masculine, but as an endearment it‘s gender neutral) (I could get into the why‘s and elaborate but I feel like it would cause unnecessary confusion).

my sunshine : mein Sonnenschein

my flower : meine Blume

my world : meine Welt

my one and everything : mein ein und alles

Okay I think I am done with the nicknames? If you have any specific nicknames you‘d like me to translate let me know. Also just an fyi but you can use all of the nicknames without the 'my' before it. Like, you can make a character call the reader just „Blume” or just „Engelchen”.

Now let me elaborate on 'chen‘ that‘s at the end of some words, like 'Bärchen', 'Häschen' or 'Engelchen'. Simply put, it cute-ify‘s the words. You have Bär (Bear) and Bärchen turns it into, loosely translated, 'little Bear'. The 'chen‘ at the end makes it sound more endearing and fitting for a lover, yk? You should also be aware that you cannot really add 'chen‘ to anything. I mean, of course, you could turn Regen (Rain) into Regenchen, grammatically it would be correct and it can be used as a nickname but no one would do that so it just stands out and is weird, you feel me? But hey if you wanna use that in your fanfiction, go ahead. German speaking folks will just raise their brow at it.

🌸🫧

Now onto the swear words. Some you‘ll be familiar with if you know König‘s Voice Lines, but I still added them nevertheless.

Fuck you : Fick dich

Fuck : Fuck (Yea we just took that over from the English folks…, don‘t use just „Fick” from „Fick dich”, it is a smart move but incorrect)

Shit : Scheiße

Kiss my Ass : Leck mich am Arsch (which translated actually means lick my ass but the translation for Kiss my Ass is still „Leck mich am Arsch”)

Son of a Bitch : Hurensohn

Daughter of a Bitch : Hurentochter (though Hurensohn has become gender neutral and the more commonly used one, so you can use it when your character just got hurt or is actually insulting someone, regardless of their gender)

Asshole : Arschloch

Bitch/Slut : Hure, Schlampe

Translated it means Dog, but it’s used like how you‘d use Bitch : Hund / Hündin (tho Hündin is more popular) (Hündin is a female dog but like Hurensohn, it has become somewhat gender neutral)

Idiot : Idiot, Blödmann, Schwachkopf (though I do have to mention that Blödmann and Schwachkopf (at least I feel like?) is mainly used by little kids while adults just stick to Idiot)

Just a few swear words. What‘s next on the Agenda? Oh right, simple German rules.

🍡☁️

Let me start off by explaining why gender neutral is so hard or impossible in German. To all of our writes here, you can ABSOLUTELY write a fan fiction, be it a 4 chapter type of thing or just a few bullet points, with a gender neutral reader if you stick to the gn endearments (could be from this list or some other). However, in real life, it works a bit different since you have to use other words to communicate with others. Let me explain it by using an example.

Someone who‘s a teacher would introduce themselves as "Hello, my Name is First Name Last Name and I‘m a Teacher". In German however, it is a bit different since the German word for Teacher is Lehrer & it means male Teacher. Female Teacher would be Lehrerin. There is no gender neutral Teacher, it‘s either Lehrer or Lehrerin. Same goes with anything else. Be it a Doctor (Arzt/Ärztin), Police Officer (Polizist/Polizistin) or a construction worker (Bauarbeiter/Bauarbeiterin). And yes, as you‘ve noticed, the female versions all end with a '-in', that‘s a good & easy way to recognize them. And even if you‘re not talking about Jobs, your gender and the other words' gender will change the way word are conjugated, and thus it makes it impossible to talk in gender neutral terms.

Next thing on the list is the way words are written. Just like in English, Names of people & places, food, nicknames etc. are all written down with the first letter being big, the rest being small. In the German language it does have a bit more importance than in English, since the difference helps us tell what is a place/person & what is a adjective etc. For example, we have this lovely sentence "In essen essen gehen." I just wrote that incorrectly so you could see my point. The correct way of spelling would be "In Essen essen gehen" (transl: Going to eat in Essen). Essen is a city but when written in small captions, it‘s the verb for eating. And don‘t get me wrong, most Germans can tell apart what word is the place/destination even if everything is written in small letters simply by the order of the words. And it‘s not like König fanfictions are all written in German, heck it’s always a few words which is FINE. So let me tell you that writing all German letters in small captions is FINE, us Germans still know what the hell is going on. This is just something I have noticed and thought I’d mention. But, again, if you write all in small letters it is not the end of the world, it’d only be 98% correct and there isn‘t really a German out there who’d be all "Aw gawd damn, they wrote all letters in small captions so now I cannot enjoy this work from the author anymore." Again, it‘s all cool, I just wanted to point it out. Stuff like nicknames, names, are all written in first letter being big. I have made sure to pay attention to that on my list.

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I think I‘m done? I don‘t think I forgot anything. Again, if there are any specific nicknames, words or sentences you‘d like me to translate, hit me up. And I literally mean that, like you don’t have to worry about „Oh god will I annoy them?“, because I genuinely enjoy doing stuff like that. I can also proofread German words/sentences, just let me know what to check.

It had been a long day at work, getting home late from working overtime. You desperately needed a shower. You headed towards your apartment door, your keys out, and ready to head inside. Movement caught your eye, and your head turned to meet your neighbor. The military man. He was so mysterious and tall, dark, and handsome. You’ve been trying to get him to have more than a few words of a conversation with you for years now. You always made an effort to talk to him every time you saw him since his work schedule was so unpredictable. He was often cold and distant when you talked, which is why you tried so hard to get him to open up. 

You turned towards him, giving him a bright smile and a wave to get his attention.  

“Hey, Simon! Good to see you! You were gone for a while.” You greeted, leaning against your door, keeping your posture open and friendly so he might start a conversation.

Simon's eyes flickered up as he noticed you, his neighbor, standing there with a bright smile. He quickly assessed the situation, trying to decide the best course of action. Despite his desire for solitude, he recognized the need to maintain a nonchalant facade. He nods politely, keeping his guard up.

"Hey," Simon replied, his voice calm and measured. "Yeah, been away for a bit. Work is pretty demanding." He avoided making direct eye contact, opting to keep his gaze focused on a point beyond your shoulder.

He shifts his weight slightly, subtly indicating that he doesn't have much time for idle conversation. Simon's training kicked in, reminding him to be cautious in revealing any personal details. He keeps his responses vague, maintaining a guarded demeanor.

"How have things been around here?" he asks, his tone casual but detached.

A weight sagged a little in your chest at his reluctance to talk. It was like that every time though, you don’t know why you expected anything different. 

You rocked back and forth on your feet a little, thinking about the events that happened at the apartment complex while he was away. 

“Well, the old man around the corner in A45 got a new cat. A couple of people moved in upstairs, they’re pretty quiet.” You bit your lip, trying to think of anything else. 

“Oh, there was a house break-in about a street over. That was a little scary. That’s about it though.” You shrugged your shoulders. You’ve been known to be a chatterbox, oversharing information sometimes. You tried to keep it in check though, for fear that your good-looking neighbor would end up hating you.

Simon listened to your updates, his eyes flickering with slight interest at the mention of the house break-in. He appreciated the information, even though he already had his own ways of staying informed. As you continue to talk, he observes your body language, noting your nervousness and the way you try to reign in your chattiness. He can't help but feel a pang of sympathy, recognizing your genuine desire to connect.

"Sounds eventful," Simon remarked, his tone neutral. He finally meets your gaze briefly before looking away, still maintaining a guarded stance. "Thanks for the update."

You gave him a closed-mouth smile and a nod. 

“You’re welcome, any time.” 

Simon debated whether to reciprocate the conversation by asking about your day or simply retreating back into his apartment. He's tempted to keep his distance, wanting to minimize any potential complications. But the nagging feeling of your genuine interest tugs at him, causing a slight hesitation.

"So, how about you? Anything interesting going on in your world?" he asked, his voice softening just a fraction, showing a glimpse of genuine curiosity.

You half expected him to retreat back into his house, but a flutter in your chest erupted when he asked how you had been, you were excited he actually wanted to talk. 

“Other than work not a lot,” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

You suddenly got a burst of confidence from your conversation of more than a few seconds, you needed to act now. 

“So, I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but I’ve got some soup on the stove. Entirely too much for me to eat by myself. Would you like some? I can put it in a bowl for you to take home if you want.” Your feet shuffled with nervousness but you never allowed my eyes to leave his, hoping to search for some kind of emotion within them. 

Simon's eyebrows raised slightly at your offer of soup, surprised by your unexpected invitation. He hadn't anticipated this turn of events, caught off guard slightly. His training reminds him to remain cautious, and not easily trusting of others, especially in his line of work. Yet, something about your earnestness and the glimmer of vulnerability in your eyes tugged at him.

He considered the offer for a moment, weighing the risks and benefits. While accepting your invitation might compromise his need for solitude and anonymity, it could also provide a temporary respite from the tension of his current situation. Besides, a hot meal wouldn't hurt.

"Soup sounds good," Simon finally replied, his voice still guarded but with a hint of genuine appreciation. "I appreciate the offer. Let me grab a bowl, and I'll be right over to pick it up." He turned back toward his apartment, his steps measured and deliberate.

A large smile spread across your lips at the acceptance of his offer. 

“Great. Perfect. I’ll leave the door open for you, just come on in.” You informed him before you opened your own apartment door and slipped inside. You took off your shoes, neatly putting them on the shoe rack. 

You made your way into the kitchen, stopping before the crockpot and opening the lid. The smell hit your nose and instantly made your mouth water. You stirred it a little, making sure it was fully cooked and warm. 

You turned around to make sure that your apartment was clean before he came by. You took this opportunity to straighten out a couple of the blankets that were neatly folded over the back of the tan couch. You had also taken this time to change into some more comfortable attire than your work clothes.

With the bowl in hand, Simon makes his way toward your apartment, his mind filled with a mix of curiosity and wariness. He approached your door and noticed that it was slightly ajar, just as you had promised. Taking a steadying breath, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, ready for any unexpected surprises. His eyes sweep across your neatly organized apartment, noting the attention to detail in the tidiness. It contrasted with his own spartan living space, a stark reminder of the differences between them. Simon can't help but feel a flicker of appreciation for your efforts.

Your head turned towards him as he entered your apartment.

“Hey, come on in.” You offered as he entered. You had already gotten a bowl out for yourself on the counter but you wanted to serve my guest first. 

You strode up to him with short steps, your neck craning up to look at him. 

“I can dish it up for you if you’d like?” You asked, holding your hands out for him to give you the bowl he brought if he wanted to.

Simon steps further into your apartment, his eyes briefly scanning the space before settling on you. He takes note of your casual attire, appreciating the natural and relaxed look. His gaze meets yours for a moment, and he offers a small nod in acknowledgment of your invitation.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice low and measured. He handed you the bowl he brought with him, his fingers brushed against yours briefly before he released it into your grasp. "I appreciate the offer," he said, his tone remaining calm as he stepped back slightly to give you space. Simon's guard remains up, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he observes your actions. 

You took the bowl from him, offering him a kind smile before making your way into the kitchen. You took the ladle in your hands, pouring him three spoonfuls into the bowl. 

“Are you thirsty?” You called to him from the kitchen. 

“I’ve got water, apple juice, or whiskey.” You wanted to help him feel more comfortable, you could tell he was still hesitant by the way he lingered within the doorway.

When you call out from the kitchen, Simon's hesitation lingers. After a moment of contemplation, he decided to stick to something non-alcoholic.

"I'll take water, please," he replied, his voice steady and low. He remained where he was, just inside the doorway, maintaining a cautious distance. While he appreciated your hospitality, he still kept his focus on the surroundings, ever vigilant for any potential threats.

After pouring his soup and grabbing a water bottle for him out of the fridge, you came back around the corner to approach him. A kind and warm smile still rested on your face as you offered him back his bowl and the bottle of water. 

“Here you go,” you said gently, your eyes meeting his for some sign of what he might be feeling.

Simon took the bowl and water bottle from you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. He detected the warmth and kindness in your gaze, a contrast to the cold and calculated world he typically inhabits. He can't help but feel a flicker of gratitude for your gesture, even though he remains guarded.

"Thanks," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. Simon took a step back, creating a bit of space between the two of you as he held the bowl and water bottle in his hands. His posture remains alert, his focus still on his surroundings, but he allows a hint of appreciation to show in his eyes.

"I appreciate your hospitality," he continues, his tone sincere but tinged with caution. "It's a welcome change of pace." Simon's words are reserved, but his eyes hold a flicker of vulnerability, a glimpse of the person behind the stoic facade.

“No problem. Any time you want just come knock. I always have something cooking.” 

You smiled at him warmly. 

Simon listens to your words, his guarded expression softening ever so slightly. 

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, his voice steady. He took a small step back, creating a bit more distance between you as if to maintain his boundaries. "I appreciate the offer."

Simon's eyes flicker with a mix of gratitude and wariness. He recognized the sincerity in your words, but he also knows that his own circumstances make it difficult to fully embrace the kindness you're extending. The shadows he's trying to evade still linger, reminding him of the dangers that could come knocking on your door if he gets too involved.

"I should get going," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Thank you for the soup." With a nod, he turned to leave, his footsteps measured and purposeful as he headed back towards his own apartment, the bowl, and water bottle still in his hands. 

“Any time.” You said gently as you watched him exit your apartment. 

Once he left, you shut the door behind him. You leaned against the doorway. You had finally done it, finally extended the offer to the neighbor who seemed so detached from the world. He was so cold and distant, that it confused you. You knew he worked in the military but what did he do that made him so closed off? 

You smiled to yourself while dishing up my own soup and heading for the couch. You tucked your feet underneath you and began eating. You looked towards the wall that you shared with him, wondering what he was doing on the other side.

As Simon returned to his own apartment, he closed the door behind him, taking a moment to look around the darkened space. He felt a mixture of gratitude and confusion at the encounter with his neighbor. Your offer of hospitality and genuine warmth had caught him off guard, stirring something within him that he rarely allowed himself to feel.

He set the bowl and water bottle on the counter before making his way to the small window in his apartment. He glanced out, his gaze distant, as he contemplated the connection he felt with you, the neighbor on the other side of the wall. His thoughts were a jumble of conflicting emotions, a battle between his instincts to protect himself and his growing curiosity about you.

Simon took a deep breath, his mind still clouded with questions. He knew he needed to maintain his focus, on staying hidden and avoiding any unnecessary risks. But the encounter had left him with a pang of longing, a desire to know more about you.

With a final glance towards the shared wall, Simon turned his attention back to his own apartment, remembering the need to remain vigilant and cautious. Settling himself into a chair, he began to eat the soup, his thoughts drifting back to the shadows that pursued him, reminding him of the danger that lurked just beyond his doorstep.

The next morning you decided to wake up early and go for a run. you ran a couple miles through the neighborhood streets before heading back to your apartment complex. You had on a well-fitted tank top as well as some spandex pants, your entire body covered in sweat from the exercise. 

Simon steps out of his apartment, dressed in his usual black attire. He carries a duffel bag over his shoulder, containing his gear and essentials. His eyes briefly meet yours.

While you were making my way to the door, you spotted Simon leaving his apartment. You offered him a friendly wave. 

“Good morning,” You said breathlessly, still worn out from your run.

"Morning," he replied, his voice steady and low. Simon's gaze lingered on you for a moment, taking in your sweat-drenched appearance. He notices the determination in your eyes and the evident exhaustion from your run. A flicker of admiration crosses his features, though he quickly masks it.

Simon adjusted the strap of his duffel bag while he nodded in acknowledgment before continuing past you, his footsteps were measured and purposeful. His guard remains up, but there's a subtle hint of curiosity in his eyes as he heads toward the exit of the apartment complex. 

Disappointment flickered in your chest at the less-than-satisfactory greeting that you received from him. You watched him walk past and head for the exit. Your face turned downward in disappointment, looking at the strangely shaped duffle bag he carried on his shoulders. You thought you had gotten through to him last night. Maybe he had slept it off since then. You fumbled with your keys as you turned away from him to open your front door. 

As Simon walked past you, his gaze briefly met yours and he noticed the disappointment on your face. He paused for a moment, his instincts telling him to keep his distance and maintain his focus. However, there's a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he observes your fumbling with your keys.

Simon takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. His touch is light, almost hesitant, as he tries to convey a sense of understanding.

You were surprised to look up and see he had returned. His outstretched hand that was placed on your arm causing you to raise your eyebrows in shock at the touch. His hands were calloused yet his touch was gentle. 

"Hey," he says, his voice softer this time. "I...I appreciate your offer of friendship. It's just...I have a lot going on right now. It's not personal."

His gaze met yours, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding. He knew he couldn’t reveal too much, couldn't let his guard down completely. But he also doesn't want to leave you feeling completely dismissed.

"I hope you understand," he continued, his tone sincere. "It's not because of you. I just...can't afford to let anyone get too close right now."

You furrowed your eyebrows together at his explanation. Guilt washed over you slightly, had you been pushing a friendship onto him when he didn’t want one? 

“I'm sorry. I understand it’s okay.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod.

Simon took note of your tight-lipped smile and curt nod, knowing that you were trying to be understanding of his position. He appreciated your acceptance of his boundaries, even though a part of him longs for the connection you offered.

"It means a lot that you understand," he replied, his voice genuine but tinged with a hint of regret. "I didn't mean to push you away."

Simon's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a flicker of vulnerability briefly surfacing. He knew he had to keep his distance, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the connection you could have had.

"Take care," he said, his voice sincere as he turned away once again, his steps measured and purposeful. He heads towards the exit of the apartment complex, his mind filled with conflicting emotions.

A few weeks had passed since you had last spoken to Simon. His apartment looked vacant every time that you had passed it. He has drawn a hard line in the sand, making it very clear he did not want to be friends. You still felt a pull towards him, something inside of you always did. Every time you left your apartment, you looked towards his door, searching for any sign of movement. 

It had been a bad couple of weeks for you. You and your boyfriend broke up, and your job was firing people left and right. You were worried you might be next. You stood out on the front porch, your face stained with old tears while you took a drag from a cigarette. You didn’t usually smoke. Actually, you never did unless something shitty happened. You pretended not to notice when you saw a familiar figure walking up out of the corner of your eye.

Simon approached the apartment complex, his footsteps measured and purposeful. He noticed you standing on the front porch, a cigarette in hand, your face stained with old tears. His gaze flickers with a mix of concern and hesitation, unsure if he should approach or keep his distance.

He recognized the familiarity of your figure, and a part of him felt an instinctual pull to offer comfort. However, the boundaries he had set still loom in his mind, reminding him of the reasons he had distanced himself. He walks past, his gaze shifting briefly towards you, but he doesn't make any attempt to engage.

Once he was close enough to you, you turned your head towards him. You offered him a half-assed smile. One that was more out of politeness than anything. You didn’t say anything, you weren’t your usual chatty self. You continued to stare up at the night sky as he passed, stamping the now-dead cigarette out onto the concrete. 

Simon notices your unusual smile and the distant look in your eyes as you continue to gaze up at the night sky. He hesitated for a moment, his instincts telling him to keep moving and respect the boundaries he had set.

But something within him, a flicker of empathy, compelled him to pause. He takes a step back, his gaze shifting from the night sky to your face. Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering it to you silently.

You looked over as he approached, not saying anything as he dug around in his pocket. As you beheld the pack of cigarettes he offered to you, you looked back up at him and gave him a more genuine smile than before. You delicately took one of the sticks out of the pack. As a thank you, you pulled out your own lighter, then lit it and offered it over to him for his cigarette first. 

Simon's expression softened as he saw your authentic smile. He accepted the lighter you offered and used it to light his own cigarette, taking a long drag. The smoke filled the air, creating a momentary screen between the two of you as you both took in the silence.

Simon leaned against the porch railing, his gaze focused on the night sky. He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. The shared act of smoking creates a sense of camaraderie, a silent understanding between two individuals who have experienced their fair share of hardships.

No words are exchanged, but the presence of each other brings a sense of comfort. Simon stands there, side by side with you, allowing the quiet companionship to fill the space between you. It's a small moment of solace amidst the chaos of both your lives.

As the cigarettes burn down, Simon glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and curiosity. He wondered if there was more to your story if there was a reason behind the tears and the distant look in your eyes. But he knew better than to pry, respecting the boundaries he had set.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Simon finished his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. He looked at you one last time, his gaze lingering for a moment  Your eyes met his, giving him a small nod and smile as a thank you before he eventually disappeared into his apartment. 

It was a couple of days later, late into the night. Your ex-boyfriend had come to your apartment, banging on the door and demanding to be let in. 

You opened the door and stood outside of your apartment, the chill of the night giving you goosebumps up your arms. You two were whispering and shouting at each other in a heated argument. 

“You’re too drunk for this. You need to leave!” I shouted in a hushed whisper at him. 

Simon had returned to his apartment late at night, the weight of the day's mission still heavy on his mind. As he approached his door, he couldn't help but overhear the heated argument taking place just a few feet away.

“Come on, just let me stay the night. I’ll make it worth it.” His words slurred together. 

“Go home. Now.” You demanded, but he wasn’t listening. 

Curiosity mixed with concern, Simon's instincts kicking in as he recognized the volatile situation unfolding. He paused for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorknob, contemplating his next move.

“You’ve always been an ungrateful, selfish, bitch, you know that?” He growled, throwing his hands in my face which caused me to flinch backwards. 

Without hesitation, Simon made his way towards you, his steps silent but purposeful. He positioned himself a few feet away, close enough to intervene if necessary.

His presence alone seemed to catch your attention, as you looked towards him with a flicker of desperation in your eyes. Simon's expression hardened his focus now solely on diffusing the situation and ensuring your safety.

"Hey," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Is everything alright here?"

His tone carried a subtle authority, a sternness that demanded attention. 

“Mind your own business, pal.” Your ex-boyfriend snapped at Simon. 

Simon's gaze shifted to your ex-boyfriend, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the situation. He positioned himself between the two of you, silently conveying his intent to protect.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Simon stated firmly, his voice carrying a hint of warning. "She's made it clear that she wants you to go. Respect her wishes and leave, now."

His presence alone radiated a quiet intensity, he was prepared to intervene if the situation escalated any further. Simon's focus remained on ensuring your safety.

You were embarrassed that Simon was witnessing the argument with your ex. 

Relief washed over you as he stepped in between you two. You took a small step closer towards him, trying to make it harder for your ex to try and come after you. Simon stood firm between you and your ex-boyfriend, he registered your small step closer to him, a silent request for protection. 

“Fucking the next-door neighbor, I see. Real classy. I’m out of here. Dirty whore.” Your ex growled at the two of you before storming off. 

Once he was gone, you finally released your breath. You kept your gaze focused on the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes out of pure embarrassment. 

“Thank you.” You said sincerely.

Simon's attention turns back to you. He noticed the embarrassment in your eyes and the way you kept your gaze lowered.

"You don't have to thank me," Simon says softly, his voice gentle yet resolute. "I couldn't stand by and let him threaten you. No one deserves to be treated that way."

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm in a gesture of reassurance. Simon's touch is gentle, meant to offer comfort in the midst of the chaos.

His hand on your shoulder draws you out of your mind. You looked up at him as soon as he touched you, that familiar spark of electricity coursing through me that you thought was lost. 

"You're safe now," he adds, his voice filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."

Now that you were finally able to breathe, a few tears fell down your cheeks at the overwhelming emotions that you felt. The fear you felt earlier slowly disappeared. 

You quickly wiped the salty tears away, sniffling your nose. You met his gaze, a close-mouthed smile on your lips. 

“Thank you. I appreciate the offer.” 

Simon's eyes softened as he saw the tears falling down your cheeks, a pang of empathy tugging at his heart. He removed his hand from your shoulder, giving you the space you needed to compose yourself. He offers you a small, sympathetic smile in return. "You're strong," he added, his voice filled with sincerity. "Remember that. And if you ever need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out. Take care of yourself."

With those parting words, Simon slowly began to step back, allowing you the space to process and move forward at your own pace. His presence, though no longer physically close, lingers as a reminder that you're not alone in this journey. 

It had been another series of weeks with no sign of Simon entering or leaving his apartment. You often wondered where in the world he was. 

Tonight was your friend's birthday and you had entirely too much to drink. You stumbled around on the patio as you approached your door. The whole world was spinning around you. You fumbled with your keys to open the door, only to drop them on the ground. 

“Shit.” You grumbled, bending over to pick them up. Only to lose your balance and fall head-first into the door. 

“Shit!” You cursed again, holding your head as the throbbing continued. Slowly, you slid to a sitting position on the outside of your door. You leaned your head back against the door, struggling to keep your eyes open so you didn’t fall asleep outside on accident. 

Simon had returned to his apartment after a long day of recon, hoping to find some peace and quiet. As he approached his door, he noticed your sitting figure on the patio, leaning back on your own door. Concern flickered in Simon's eyes for a moment. He quickly made his way over to you, his footsteps steady and purposeful. He crouched down beside you, his gaze assessing the situation. Simon reached out a hand to offer support, but paused, unsure if you would welcome his assistance.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Let me help you up."His words were accompanied by a gentle touch on your arm, an offer, should you choose to accept it. Simon's presence exuded a sense of calm and reliability, a steady support. 

You rolled your head to the side upon seeing him crouched down beside you with slight worry in his eyes. Your drunken self was happy to see him, your face lit up with a wide grin. 

“You’re home!” You exclaimed with an excited giggle. 

“I was hoping I’d see you.” 

You grabbed onto his arm and allowed him to help you stand. You wobbled a bit, but eventually found my footing and successfully got the key into the hole. 

“I’m okay, I just need to lie down.” You slurred your words together, attempting to balance on one foot to take your shoes off. Your grip on his arm tightened as you began to lose your balance a little.

Simon couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corners of his lips as he witnessed your drunken excitement. He steadied himself as you grabbed onto his arm, providing you with the support you needed to stand. Simon's grip on your arm remained firm, ensuring you wouldn't stumble further. He followed your lead as you managed to unlock the door, relieved that you were able to navigate such a simple task.

"I'll help you lie down," Simon said, his voice calm and reassuring. He guided you inside, carefully maneuvering through the threshold and into your apartment. Simon remained by your side, his presence a steady anchor as you balanced on one foot, attempting to remove your shoes.

As you began to lose your balance, Simon's grip on your arm tightened, providing additional support. 

"Take your time," he said softly, his voice filled with patience. 

His hand on your arm was your only anchor to the real world. You could smell him, the waft of his cologne, and the smell of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils. You directed him towards your bedroom. 

You sat down on your bed with a heavy thud, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of your room. You looked up at Simon, your mouth agape slightly. 

“Can I tell you something?” You asked in a hushed whisper, even though there wasn’t anybody else around but the two of you.

As you sat down on the bed, Simon positioned himself nearby, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. He could sense the weight of your words before you even spoke, a quiet vulnerability in your voice.

"Of course," Simon replied softly, his voice filled with a gentle reassurance. "You can tell me anything.” 

He waited patiently, giving you space and time to gather your thoughts. Simon's expression remained open and understanding, his eyes reflecting a genuine willingness to hear whatever you needed to share.

“My ex, the one who came by the other night, he used to hit me. Always when he was drunk. Drunk and angry.” Your mouth had zero filter, and your brain worked at a slower speed that couldn’t process what you were saying. 

“I just wanted to let you know what you did for me that night, it meant a lot.” You slowly lowered yourself into your bed and tucked yourself under the covers. 

Simon's expression turns solemn as you reveal the painful truth about your past. He listens attentively, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and concern. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the gravity of the situation not lost on him.

"I'm so sorry to hear that you had to go through that," Simon responded, his voice laced with genuine sympathy. "No one should ever have to endure that. You didn't deserve any of it."

“Also, I think you’re very handsome.” You added, humming a giggle.

A faint blush crept onto Simon's cheeks at your unexpected compliment. He found himself at a loss for words, momentarily taken aback by your candidness. He offers you a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and appreciation.

"You're very kind," Simon replied, his voice sincere. "Thank you for your words. They mean a lot to me."

Simon remained by your side, ensuring that you were comfortable and safe. He understood the need for rest. With a gentle touch, he adjusted the covers around you and lingered for a moment, his presence a quiet reassurance in the darkness of the room.

"Get some rest," he whispers, his voice barely audible. 

You watch as his hands tenderly touch the blanket to bring it around you further. You gave him a drunk smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. Before he was able to leave, your hand snakes out from under the covers. You wrap your hand around two of his fingers before he can pull away. 

“Wait.” A gentle request. 

Simon feels a soft tug on his fingers as you reach out. He pauses, his eyes meeting yours, and he can sense the shift in your demeanor despite the lingering effects of alcohol. You met his eyes, a new seriousness to them despite your intoxicated state. 

“Would you stay with me?” You whispered the question, yawning in the process.

Without hesitation, Simon nods, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "I'll stay with you."

Simon observes the exhaustion evident in your yawn and the weariness etched on your face. He understands the weight of your fear, the lingering trauma that keeps you from finding solace in sleep. His presence here, the touch of your hand in his, is a small gesture that offers you a sense of safety and reassurance.

He eased himself into the bed, careful not to disturb you, and laid down beside you. His body settles comfortably, his movements slow and deliberate. Simon finds solace in the simple connection, knowing that it brings you some comfort. The warmth of your touch resonates with him, reminding him of the importance of human connection.

"You're safe," he murmured softly, his words a gentle affirmation. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Unintentionally, you shift your body a little closer to his, Savoring the warmth and proximity of him. 

“Thank you.” you breathed. 

Simon feels the shift of your body as you move closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence. He allows you to find that solace, understanding the need for closeness and connection. 

A soft smile graced Simon's lips as he heard your whispered gratitude. He remained still, his eyes watching over you as you finally find the rest you so desperately need. 

"You're welcome," he murmured softly, his voice a mere breath in the quiet room. "Sleep well."

Simon stayed by your side throughout the night, his presence unwavering. He continued to hold your hand, a silent reassurance that you are not alone. As the night passed, he remained vigilant, ensuring that you were comfortable and undisturbed.

Gentle ladders of light cascade through the blinds as the morning sun makes itself known. The light hit your face and gently urged you to wake. You opened your eyes a little, groaning at the headache that you had developed. You shoved your head down into the pillow and let out a long sigh. 

You could feel fingers still laced with yours, drawing your attention. You rotated your head to the side to look at Simon, still resting on the pillow. You smiled groggily at him through closed eyes. 

“Good morning.” Your sore voice rasps out.

Simon stirred slightly as the morning light filtered through the blinds, casting gentle patterns on the room. He had remained awake, keeping a watchful eye throughout the night, ensuring your peace. Simon turned his head toward you, meeting your gaze. He offered a warm smile in return, his eyes filled with a mixture of weariness and genuine care.

"Good morning," Simon responded softly, his voice matching the raspiness of yours. "How did you sleep?"

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. Simon's concern is evident in his expression as he gauged your well-being. 

You looked up at him and smiled. An appreciative smile at everything he had done for you. 

Your heart swelled, your attraction for him growing even larger than it was before. 

“Great.” You responded softly. “Thank you for staying with me.” You squeezed his hand gently. Simon returned your smile, his eyes reflecting the appreciation he felt for your gratitude. He could sense the sincerity in your words, and the depth of your appreciation for his presence throughout the night. It warmed his heart, reinforcing his commitment to protect and support you in any way he can.

"I'm glad to hear that you slept well," Simon replied softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. "And you're welcome. It was no trouble."

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked.

As you squeezed his hand, Simon reciprocated the gesture, offering a reassuring squeeze in return. The connection between your hands remained, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between the two of you. He paused for a moment, contemplating your question. "I managed to get a little rest," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness.

It felt like your heart was on cloud nine. Nobody had ever been so kind to you before. 

You gently brushed your thumb across his knuckles, a physical sign of your appreciation for him. 

“Do you want any coffee?” You asked, desperately needing something for a hangover cure.

Simon's heart skipped a beat as he felt the gentle brush of your thumb against his knuckles. The simple gesture speaks volumes, a silent expression of the connection that has grown between the two of you. His smile widened, mirroring the warmth in his eyes.

"I'd love some coffee," Simon responded, his voice conveying gratitude and a hint of amusement.

He released your hand reluctantly, slowly sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Simon stretched his arms above his head, feeling the weariness from a night of vigilance in his muscles. As he stood up, he glanced back at you, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your hand went cold as he left it. Your fingers ached from holding it all night, but your heart ached for his hand to return to yours. You slowly stood up from your bed, stretching your body up towards the sky. You were still in your clothes from the other night. 

"Lead the way," he said, gesturing toward the direction of the door.

Simon waited for you to get up, ready to accompany you to the kitchen.

You looked back at him with a smile over your shoulder and made your way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. 

You loaded the coffee machine up with water and beans, hitting the brew button. 

“It should just take a few minutes to brew. Have a seat if you’d like, I’m going to change really quick.” You offered to him before disappearing back into your room. 

Your door slid back open a crack while you changed inside. You slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitting cropped tank top. 

As you invite him to have a seat, Simon nods appreciatively and finds a comfortable spot in the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. He waits patiently, his gaze wandering around the room as he takes in his surroundings. Simon noticed the crack in the door, his eyes being drawn to it. He watched as you took off your shirt, catching a glimpse of your bare back. His face heated as he quickly looked away. 

You emerged back from your room with a smile towards Simon. 

“How do you like your coffee?”

When you returned, Simon's attention immediately shifted toward you, his eyes lingered on your changed attire. A soft smile graced his lips as he admired your casual yet appealing appearance.

"I take it black," Simon responded, his voice warm and sincere. "Just the way it comes."

He watched you with a hint of curiosity. Simon appreciated the opportunity to witness these everyday moments, finding comfort in the simplicity of the situation. As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, he can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for this shared moment of respite amidst the chaos of their circumstances.

“Black it is then.” You looked at him with a smile before heading for the cupboard. You stood on my toes as you reached for the coffee mugs, grabbing two and bringing them down. 

The coffee finished with a satisfying ding and you poured it into the two mugs. You brought them over to Simon, setting one down in front of him while you decided to occupy the seat next to him. 

Simon watched you with a soft smile as you efficiently prepared the coffee, appreciating the simple domesticity of the moment. He took in the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him.

"Thank you," he said gratefully as you set the mug in front of him.

The coffee smell hit your nose while you took a sip, the smooth liquid traveling down your throat and you let out a satisfied hum. 

“What do you have planned today?” You asked, looking over the brim of your cup while you took a drink.

Simon took a sip of the coffee, savoring the rich flavor that filled his mouth. The warmth spread through his body, revitalizing him from the weariness of the night. He lets out a contented sigh, enjoying the simple pleasure of this momentary respite.

"I don't have any specific plans for today," he answered honestly, his voice thoughtful. “I usually just wait until they give me the call that they need me again.”

Your eyes sparkled with interest at the mention of his job. 

“You’re in the military right? Is your job scary?” You asked, wanting to know what kept him away for weeks or months at a time. 

Simon's expression softened as he listened to your questions, understanding the curiosity that comes from not fully grasping the nature of his work. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

"Yes, I am in the military," Simon confirmed, his voice steady. "And while my job can be intense and demanding at times, it's also filled with a sense of purpose and duty. There are moments of fear and uncertainty, but there's also a strong bond among soldiers, a shared commitment to protect and serve."

He took another sip of his coffee, allowing the warmth to soothe him as he continued. "Being away for extended periods of time is part of the job, unfortunately. It can be challenging, both physically and emotionally, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the greater good."

You intently listened to him talk as he explained, your eyes never left his, showing your interest. 

“You’re very brave.” You complimented, “Thank you for your service.” 

Simon's cheeks color slightly at your compliment, grateful for your kind words. He nods appreciatively, acknowledging your gratitude.

"Thank you," he replied humbly. "I appreciate it."

Simon looked at you, his eyes filled with determination. "What about you? Is there anything you need to take care of? Anything I can assist you with?" 

You smiled in appreciation at his eagerness to help. 

“No, I didn’t have anything planned today. Just hanging around the apartment I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders a little.

Simon's eyes meet yours, a mixture of determination and vulnerability shining within them. 

“Is there anything you'd like to do? Maybe explore the area, watch a movie, or simply relax?"

You tapped your fingers on the coffee mug, thinking for a moment while looking around your small apartment. “I would watch a movie.” You finally decided.

As you expressed your desire to watch a movie, Simon's smile widened. "That sounds like a great idea," he agrees. 

He stood up from the table, taking his coffee mug with him. Simon moved over to the living area of the apartment, scanning the area for a suitable place to relax. He located a cozy-looking couch and gestured for you to join him.

"Shall we?" he asked, his voice warm with anticipation. "Do you have any preferences for the movie? Or should we just browse and see what catches our interest?"

His wide smile made your heart flutter with attraction as you followed him into the living room with your coffee cup in hand. 

You watched as he took a seat on the couch. You wanted to sit right next to him, you wanted to curl up in his arms but you wanted to respect his boundaries. You didn’t know if he had felt the same what you did. You sat down next to him but kept a small amount of distance between you. 

Simon felt a mixture of anticipation and restraint as you joined him on the couch, maintaining a small distance between the two of you. You respected his boundaries, not wanting to overstep or make him uncomfortable, even though his heart longed to pull you closer.

He settled in beside you, allowing a comfortable silence to envelop the room for a moment. The soft glow of the TV illuminates the space, casting flickering shadows along the walls.

“Um, we can just browse around. Are you in the mood for anything specific?” You asked, turning the TV on in the process.

Turning his attention to the screen, Simon contemplated your question. "I'm open to anything," he replies, his voice gentle. "Maybe something light-hearted or action-packed? Whatever you're in the mood for."

Simon reached for the remote control, preparing to browse through the available options. He glances at you, a warmth in his eyes. "Let me know if anything catches your eye."

You smiled, handing him the remote and moving both your hands to hold the coffee cup and take a drink. You sunk down onto the couch, propping your feet up on the coffee table.

Simon takes the remote from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, causing a subtle jolt of electricity to pass through him. He can't help but notice the way you sink into the couch and prop your feet up, a relaxed and inviting posture.

You watched the options fly by the screen, a movie catching your eyes. 

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to watch that one!” You pointed towards the TV at the romance movie that flashed on the screen. 

“Is that okay?”

As you point out the romance movie that caught your eye, Simon's gaze followed your gesture. He glanced at the screen, taking note of the title and plot.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked back at you. "Of course, that sounds great," he replies, his voice warm and sincere. "I'm always up for a good romance movie."

Simon pressed play on the remote, and the movie started to unfold on the screen. He settled back into the couch, finding a comfortable position next to you while keeping a respectful distance. The soft glow of the TV casts gentle shadows across his features as he steals glances at you throughout the movie, enjoying the shared experience of this quiet moment together.

Your eyes stayed trained on the TV intensely throughout the whole movie, your eyes wide with anticipation the entire time. 

You had finished your coffee, the cup discarded on the table now. At the end of the movie, it had turned sad. The love interest had gotten sick and died. 

Tears had started falling down your face before the credits even started rolling. 

Simon's attention is divided between the movie and stealing glances at you, observing your intense focus on the screen. He can't help but be drawn to the way your emotions play out on your face, reflecting the impact the movie has on you.

The screen went black and you looked over at Simon, your eyes wide with grief. 

“How are you not crying?” You asked, chuckling at yourself while wiping the tears from your face.

As the movie reaches its emotional conclusion, Simon notices the tears streaming down your face. He chuckled a little as he reached out instinctively, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

"I guess I have a knack for holding back tears," Simon responded, his voice gentle. 

Simon offered you a small, comforting smile. 

You appreciated the gentle touch of his thumb on your face, leaning into his touch slightly. You looked up at his eyes, an embarrassed smile on your face as you cleaned all the tears off. 

Simon's heart skipped a beat as you leaned into his touch, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment longer before he withdrew his hand. He can't help but feel a surge of warmth at the sight of your smile, finding solace in your vulnerability.

“I just love, love.” You admitted, settling back into the couch with a little shuffle, your body ever so slightly closer to Simons this time. He notices the subtle shift in your position, the proximity between the two of you inching closer. Simon's breath caught momentarily, his eyes locking with yours, a flicker of something deeper passing between you.

“What now?” You asked, looking up to meet his gaze.

"Now," he said, his voice gentle yet filled with a hint of anticipation, "we can simply enjoy each other's company. We can continue talking, share stories, or even sit in silence. Whatever you feel like doing."

You smiled at him, tucking your feet beneath you to face him better. Your knee brushed up against where his leg was. You propped your head up on your elbow on the back of the couch. 

You hummed in thought, thinking of a question to ask. 

“Do you have any siblings?” You asked, taking this opportunity to get to know him better.

Simon’s chest tightened a little bit. Family wasn’t an easy topic for him. In fact, he tried to avoid it at all costs. He remembered your vulnerability last night, that you were able to trust him. Even though his training was screaming at him not to, he decided to trust you with a vulnerable part of him. 

“I had a younger brother. We weren’t that close growing up.”

You felt your heartstrings tug in remorse for him. You didn’t need the full story to get the implication that his brother was no longer alive. You felt a little guilty for picking a loaded topic for him. You gently reached your hand across to his, taking the rough skin into yours. You laced your fingers together and squeezed gently. 

“I’m so sorry.” You offered sympathy. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago.” Simon replied. He looked down at his lap where your hands connected, feeling a lightness in his chest that he wasn’t quite used to. 

Your gaze returned to his.

“I really enjoy being around you, Simon.” You admitted, looking into his eyes with a soft seriousness. 

“Thank you for letting me in.” You spoke with sincerity.

Simon felt a rush of warmth surge through him as he felt your hand squeeze, a connection forming between the two of you. The blush on your face causes a gentle smile to appear on his own.

"I feel the same way," Simon responded, his voice filled with sincerity. "Being around you has brought me comfort and a sense of belonging. It's rare to find someone who understands and accepts the complexities of my life, and I'm grateful to have you in it."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze unwavering as he continued to hold your hand. "Thank you for letting me in too. It means more to me than you know. The trust and openness we have, it's something I will cherish."

Simon leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate tone. "I'm here for you, to support you, and to share these moments together. Whatever may come, know that I'm by your side."

His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of affection and vulnerability. In that moment, Simon realized just how much he has come to care for you, and the thought of being apart becomes increasingly unbearable.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, your eyes never leaving him. Never breaking the intense gaze. As he leaned in, the sweet smell of coffee lingered on your face. You smile at him slightly, your eyes darting back and forth between his. 

You reached your hand up, gently and tenderly resting it on the side of his face. You stroked your thumb gently against the stubble growing on his face. As you reach up to touch the side of Simon's face, a surge of electricity courses through him. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of yours, as he felt the tender stroke of your thumb against his stubbled cheek. The air between you crackles with anticipation, and time seems to stand still.

You close the gap between your bodies, your legs now fully touching each other as you leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

Without hesitation, Simon reciprocates the closeness, his body leaning into yours as your lips meet in that soft, gentle kiss. The world faded away, replaced by the warmth and tenderness exchanged between you.

In that moment, everything feels right. The worries and dangers that surround you both momentarily fade into the background, leaving only the connection shared between your bodies and souls. Simon's hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

The kiss lingers, both a promise and a declaration of the feelings that have grown between you. Simon's heart swelled with a mixture of joy, vulnerability, and a newfound sense of hope. Your heart felt like it was thriving- like it finally received what it needed to live. His lips part from yours, but his eyes remain locked with yours, silently conveying a multitude of emotions.

"I... I didn't expect this," Simon confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and affection. "But I'm glad it happened. I feel a connection with you that I can't ignore."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I don't know what the future holds, but I want to explore it with you. Whatever comes our way, I want to face it together." 

As he pulled away, Your eyes flickered open. you stared up at him, an affectionate smile on your features as you listened to the words he said, your heart swelling with adoration in the process. You leaned into the touch of his hand on your face, never wanting him to let go. Your hand that was on his face now rested on his shoulder, gently stroking my thumb on the base of his neck. 

You smiled widely at his words and nodded your head. 

“I like the sound of that.”

Simon's heart swelled with a mixture of happiness and relief at your response. The touch of your hand on his shoulder sent shivers down his spine, igniting a warmth that spread throughout his entire being. He couldn’t help but lean into your touch, savoring the connection that formed between you.

The affectionate smile on your face brought out a matching smile on Simon's lips, his eyes shimmering with a newfound sense of contentment. He takes a deep breath, his voice filled with tenderness.

"I'm glad you feel the same way," Simon said, his voice filled with sincerity. "There's something special between us, something worth exploring and nurturing."

He traced a finger along your jawline, his touch feather-light. "In this chaotic world, finding someone who understands and accepts you is a rare gift. I don't want to let that slip away."

Simon leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be there for you, to support you, and to build something beautiful together. Let's make the most of this connection, one step at a time."