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caesium-55 · 1 month

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—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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bwabys-scenarios · 3 months

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helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

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comfortless · 4 months

Text

This Time Around

König + fem! house sprite reader

content/warnings: reader wears dresses, König is soft and lonely, pining, comfort & fluff.

notes: @deltrese put the thought of König inheriting a little dollhouse from his grandmother in my head whilst i was watching Arrietty and… yknow. likely not anyones cup of tea but the idea was too cute to not write out eheh. not proofread, apologies! wc: 8.5k.

She survives on drops of honey, dew trickling from the asters springing up along the brick skirt wrapped around the lower level of the house, sips of canned soup and crumbs of bread when he forgets to clean up after a dinner prepared far too late into the night. He’s far from a messy man; he keeps his house in lovely shape, but he’s weary, more tired than any of the mice undergoing torpor she’s crossed paths with in the attic.

In her own way, she’s grown fond of this giant. Not fond enough to reveal herself in full, but she’s polite enough to sweep his crumbs from the table after he’s gone to bed, spend a day patching up an old shirt of his with a tiny thorn and scraps of thread if she notes a tear in the fabric of some ugly, dark thing he wears. She’s always amazed when he notices her busywork, too. The way he will hold the shirt in front of his face with a boyish grin after taking notice of how skillfully it’s been repaired, the way he calls out, “Danke freunden!” in that soft tone of voice that reminds her of a breeze passing through a windchime.

She knows that he doesn’t truly think that anyone else is here at all; that’s just how humans were— silly things. Something strange happens and they’ll try any way that they can to rationalize it or personify whatever may have caused it. König looked the part of a rational man, but her heart seems to swell when he gives away just how superstitious he truly is.

He’s ritualistic in some ways; covers his mouth when he yawns as though fearing that the Devil himself will come scurrying out of his windpipe, the wind chimes he has hanging up on his front porch, even knocking on the wood of the dining room table as he passes through lost in thought about something. She might be, too, because she always whispers her wishes of good favor to him when she knows he’s heading off on some grand adventure in the world outside.

She likes that she can make sure he feels less alone.

The man never has any visitors, and more often than not, he’s away. She likes to imagine he visits beautiful places, climbs mountains she will never in her lifetime see the peaks of, runs his calloused hands over the sharp edges of leaves and plucks dandelions puffed with seeds to blow wishes into. She pictures him having sweet, doting friends, all smiles when he’s around. Though, she is almost certain that the reality is nothing of the sort.

She’s seen him come home with fresh wounds, blood seeping through gauze haphazardly wrapped around his side. She’s seen the look in his eye when he stares blankly at the lifeless wall for what feels like hours, breathing out long sighs as his fingers curl and loosen in repetition at his sides. Regrettably, she’s fretted over the sight of tears welling in his eyes to the extent that she’s almost dared to come out of hiding, to console him just a little.

He’s hurting.

She’s alone too, here. There are others like her, of course. Groups of them cluster in lived-in homes chattering all throughout the night, getting into any mischief their tiny hands can fall upon to prepare. Often times, when a little sprite such as herself chooses a place, the others come flocking, too— making merry, stealing from their humans in ways hardly worthy of a second glance and starting colonies in the rafters, far out of sight.

But no one else will touch this place.

The house is a beautiful thing, meant for a family. There were so many rooms that she had yet to even explore herself. Not a pet in sight to chase after her and swallow her whole. The floors are soft carpet she often beds down in on nights she can feel he won’t be returning, plush and soft and so unused to human traffic. She loves it here, even if her kind do not. She might even understand why, too. It’s so melancholic, haunted by this miserable giant with heavy footfalls and tears perpetually unshed, held back by the grace of quivering hands in a body with too many scars.

She’s tried to count them before, once, whilst he was changing in his room. She wasn’t trying to steal a glimpse of his body, no, she only wanted to see what stories he was hiding, written on flesh. Perched on a bookshelf, she watched the giant as he pulled his shirt over his head, some tight, black cloth that didn’t look cozy at all. He had a cut running from his navel to his chest, a few penny sized keloids along his ribcage. The giant’s body was pale, as though he had never at all caught the eye of the sun, the only thing making him look still-alive and healthy were the layers of muscle across the chest, bunching down to his abdomen.

A pretty sight, undoubtedly for women similar in stature to him, but to her she sees only his fluttering pulse in the vein along his neck, the shaking of hands too large, and those horribly sad eyes that shatter her heart with only a glimpse.

She had nearly been caught then, with her palm splayed out over her chest in open awe and sympathy for this poor, cursed beast. His gaze had snapped over to the appeal of small movement on the shelf only to find nothing at all; she had tucked herself behind a copy of a Ungeduld des Herzens.

That was two months ago.

He had left the following morning, a black duffel bag thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously walked through the home shutting off lights and closing doors. Except… he left two lights on this time; the kitchen and his bedroom were cast in a white glow. She thought, assuredly that the artificial suns in their glass casings will burn out by the time that he returns. She also realized how strange it is that he would do such a thing at all. The man was prone to his habits, and it welled her up with dread to think that perhaps the book hadn’t entirely concealed her shape, that he had seen her peeking out between old pages covered in thin layers of dust.

She occupied her time scrounging around for anything that may have suggested his cerulean eyes had fallen upon her, When a human catches sight, it’s best to leave as though a house sprite had never been there at all; she certainly didn’t care for uprooting from this cozy, quiet life in the presence of a man that she harbored a fluttering, sympathetic heart for.

To her relief, she found nothing of note.

— — —

It was rare for him to be gone this long. She’s lost track of the days after a quaint seventy-three. A decent meal is harder to come by when he isn’t accidentally feeding her; the cabinets and pantry are shut, and there’s absolutely no hope of her small hands prying open the big portal leading to a perpetual winter that humans referred to as a refrigerator. Dew drops, wild strawberries and blackberries get tiresome after a while, and sneaking outside is dangerous, anyway. The birds don’t think her anything more than a bug, something simple to descend upon and scoop into a hungry beak.

She gathers up a thin piece of thread and, after tossing it into the air an innumerable amount of times only to have it land in a heap at her feet, she finally manages to hook it onto one of the knobs of a cabinet where she knows he keeps brightly colored packages of store bought cookies.

Those were for rougher days, always in date because god knows the man probably had never had a day that wasn’t somewhat harrowing. She’s seen him drink jåger and munch cookies while watching the television late into the night more times than she can count.

She pulls the thread tight and takes steps backwards to fling the cabinet door wide open. It takes a lot of effort from her small size, but she prides herself on managing even without a cluster of other sprites to help her along. Her stomach rumbles when the package comes into view and she readily climbs into the cabinet, up a few cans and boxes to reach the second shelf.

The package is opened with careful precision. She’s diligent at emulating the rips and tears she’s seen on similar ones to make it look like an accident occurred on some storage room shelf. Her heart swells in utter delight as the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts up her nostrils, her mouth watering by the time she pulls one of the baked goods free from its confinement as she seats herself on the thin wooden board of the shelf with the treat in her lap.

It’s when her lips part and she lowers her head to take a bite that her ears prick to the sound of the front door opening. She missed the sounds of the turning lock, likely whilst fussing with the plastic and now… now it’s simply too late for her to haul off her spoils, shimmy down back to the linoleum floor, manage to unthread her makeshift cabinet-door-opener and shut it, leave it as though it had never been touched.

She’s never made a grave error like this. There have been close calls, certainly, but never one that set her off with the alarm of certainty that she would be discovered.

The lock clicks back into place, and there’s the sound of heavy boots being dropped to the floor before soft footfalls could be heard against the plush carpet.

… Headed straight in her direction.

Don’t come in the kitchen. Do not come in in the kitchen!

She finds herself in a tossup between petrified by her own fear and utterly entranced by the idea of being caught. Finally, after years of watching her giant from shadows and covered perches. The idea that he might crush her like a bug or capture her to marvel at like a pet crosses her mind, certainly, but a part of her wants to believe that her fondness for him wouldn’t be entirely unreciprocated.

From her perch, she can see the dark camos, the looming shadow as he trudges into the room only to stop, immediately, when he notices the little door flung wide open. He’s wearing that hood he wears often when he returns, a scrap of bleached fabric with eye holes torn out. She’s taken to stitching it more times than she can count, breathing in the scent of sweat, of strange lingering smoke as she works to fix the threading along the eyeholes. It’s difficult to make out his expression like this, but his blue eyes dart from the open cupboard to the rest of the room before landing back there.

He grunts out a noise of confusion, and she can almost hear his thoughts. He wouldn’t have left it open. The lights had been intentionally left on. That was a sign she had foolishly overlooked.

He takes careful steps toward her, so close now that only the fabric of his tight-fitting trousers filled her view. To her horror, her amazement, his knees bend and he kneels down slowly. This wasn’t the way that things should have went, she should have been more cautious. The hood comes into view all too quickly. Blue eyes widen as they land on her with that big cookie still in her lap.

“Hallo, little one.”

Ohgodohgodohgod.

He’s speaking directly to her. He sees her. He’s not afraid, yet her heart is burning with the icy touch of pure dread.

She clutcheds the pastry tight to her chest, lips pressed into a thin line as she takes a tentative step back into the shadow of the cupboard. So tense, so uncertain. She didn’t want to leave, silently willing him to close his eyes, turn away, forget about the tiny thing he happened upon stealing his food.

Instead, he stares down at her as though he had just found a will to keep living, a reason to stick around despite his bloodied wardrobe and the ever-present loneliness.

“Kleine engel… you are safe, please don’t look at me like that…”

He’s so much kinder than she had ever anticipated, his heart laid bare between the red rings of flesh lining his eyes. Her giant is nothing but gentle, cooing at her in such a quiet voice as though she were a wounded baby bird. Those eyes were filled to the brim with such wonder and hope that she couldn’t turn away now even if he was some rotten carnivorous animal.

“Please don’t look at me.”

The words fall from her lips despite her defenses lowering, shoulders relaxing and her eyes filling with that same look of hope he held.

It’s strange, how someone so massive doesn’t seem to send her scurrying for the hills. He’s huge, but that tenderness in his eyes that makes her feel comforted, reminds her of the gentle lull of streams and the sky filled with puffy clouds like castles in mid-morning.

“Ach… But you are so…”

Tiny, strange, a myriad of words hanging on his tongue, and she feels every one of them with each flutter of her pulse.

“… so pretty. Kleine puppe.”

She drops the cookie at that and it falls to the floor of the shelf with a soft thud that makes her jump in place.

The other sprites have their stories. It’s nice to sit and listen from the comfort of a canopy of grass when another passes through. They speak of the humans that they’ve encountered just as they speak of beasts, keen-eyed cats with sharp claws bared ready to feast upon those like herself. Dangerous things not meant to be associated with. Not one of them has ever mentioned encountering one that looks at them like… this, as though they were something breathtaking, something to be protected.

He huffs out a laugh at her shocked expression, his fingers drumming upon his knees as he watches her.

“I am not a ‘puppe’.”

“A fairy, then?”

She sighs, heavy and exasperated as she sorts out her dress and bends down to retrieve her meal. A pretty thing she had sewn herself from a vintage napkin, blue blossoms and thin lace.

“Are you going… to tell anyone?”

Her giant shakes his head with a laugh, and of course he does— who would he tell?

“I will keep you a secret, puppe.”

“Good, or I’ll curse you!” She warns, trying to puff her chest to seem bigger, more intimidating. She’s too cute to seem anything more than a frightened bunny, and his eyes are swimming in mirth at the sight of her. He’s like a giant child, finding out the fairytales in his books were true all along, only… not the ones about boiling folks like him down to bones to teach a lesson, just the ones where true love and sweet princesses existed.

He asks her a million things in rapid succession then— where she came from, how long she’s been here, what she’s doing, why she never came out before, how she can even exist. They make her head swim and she doesn’t answer a single one. He makes no move to touch her, doesn’t move any more than his nervous fingers and his beautiful eyes. They crease at the outer corners with each wide smile he undoubtedly has beneath that hood and her heart stutters each time like the flapping of little bird wings desperately seeking safe wind to coast in a storm.

She decides that she likes him as she brings herself to sit on the edge of the shelf, nibbling at her cookie whilst he tells her his name, that he works as a soldier— a colonel, sounding prideful despite the fact she has no clue just what that entails. He speaks to her in an energetic whisper, drops his shoulders and lowers himself further as though trying to appear her size, despite the vast disparity between their statures.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” König asks her suddenly, glancing over his shoulder as he looks out towards the den with a pinched brow. It was almost as though he expected a castle fit for her to appear from thin air, white gates and a shimmer of fairy dust surrounding it all.

“The floor is soft… sometimes between the sofa cushions, too. You’ve nearly sat on me before.”

“Nein. That will not do.”

He stands to his feet before she can protest and leaves the room. A part of her still teeters on the edge of running off, escaping before they became too familiar, and yet a more impulsive part wills her to wait as she hears the creak of floorboards beneath his feet whilst his footfalls ascend up into the attic.

She pictures the mice scurrying away in fright, just as she should, while she kicks her feet and waits patiently. The taste of cinnamon and sugar remains on her tongue as she places the remnants of the cookie aside and licks her fingers clean of sweet dust.

König returns a few moments later, a large box cradled in his arms.

“Close your eyes, puppe.”

It doesn’t make sense for her to leave herself vulnerable so soon after their impromptu meeting, and she doesn’t want to, but she does as he asks anyhow with a soft smile on her tiny face. Feels her chest pool with a mixture of excitement and fear as she hears him shuffling about the kitchen, the thump of something heavy being placed on the counter encourages her to flinch. She can hear small objects being set down carefully, the water running from the tap for a moment before the sound of something soft meeting wood fills her ears. It all quiets after a moment and she feels a gentle nudge at her side.

Her eyelids flutter open to see König’s finger gently pressed against her waist, his blue eyes beneath the dark hood fill her vision entirely. He’s so close, too close. As if sensing her apprehension, he raises his head back to look down at her instead.

“It is alright. I have a gift for you.”

König nudges her once more before she realizes that he’s inviting her to climb onto his massive hand. Her breath catches as she glances from the calloused flesh to his eyes and back.

Her kin would scold her severely if they were here, tell her she’s gone too far that there’s no way she will ever come back from this if she accepts. She stinks of human already. That’s how she justifies the way she climbs into his palm with her hands folded into the lap of her dress. His other hand curves around her, not touching, but hovering closely enough to keep her in place as he slowly rises to his full height and carries her over to the counter where he immediately allows her to clamber off before dropping his hands to his sides again.

The sight she’s met with dissolves any lingering fear she had harbored against him.

On the counter sits a wooden dollhouse, painted a lovely shade of blue, the roof a quiet shade of gray. It’s a stately thing, speaking of yesteryear’s Victorian styled homes with its vaulted roof, even a small turret beside the upstairs balcony. Expertly crafted and far too beautiful, perhaps even prettier than König’s empty home. Her eyes are welling with tears as she slowly ascends the three sturdy steps to the front door.

“You like?”

She can’t bring herself to respond immediately. She’s too caught up in this, opening the door with a gentle pull as she wanders into the house. It’s furnished in a hurry, some of the furniture misplaced, but… everything is here, as it would be in a normal, human home. A couch that seemed almost tailored for her size sits beside a little rattan shelf, a small table before it, a little hearth, a full kitchen and upstairs she finds a bedroom complete with a canopy bed. The curtains hanging off of it are blue like the outside, like the floral wallpaper adorning the dollhouse. She tests the bed with a gentle hand, marveling at how soft it was, how the sheets bunch beneath her palm.

Then, she approaches the window in admiration of all of the small details, little etchings of plant life carefully scrawled along the wood. The lock even clicks open as she pushes the little sheet of plastic framed by white to rise.

“It’s perfect,” she chirps out to her giant. “It’s so beautiful…”

“Oma gave it to me when I was a boy.” König’s reply sounds bittersweet, but his eyes are shimmering, as though the fact he had made this small woman so happy had been the height of his year, perhaps even an entire decade of his life. She’s seen him quietly weep to himself long into the night, only a breadth away from him as she tucks herself further into couch. He’s seemed gentle, less of a titan and more battered then, but he’s never seemed this sweet. “And now I am giving it to you.”

— — —

Sleeping in a bed is different. It’s quiet and soft with no worries of getting crushed by a heavy boot or threats of having a presence too large finding out about her existence. Those things do absolutely nothing to lull her to comfort as a dull the throbbing in her chest blossoms and continues all throughout the night ceaselessly. She tucks the blanket a little tighter around herself as she tosses and turns on the small mattress.

Mornings are different now, too. When König wakes, he taps at her front door to pull her from her restless dreaming. He has a ritual, expecting her to come out in one of the dresses from the dollhouse’s wardrobe rather than her scrapped clothing with a small mug and a plate in hand. He gives her a drop or two of coffee and food from whatever breakfast he’s pieced together. Sometimes it’s a cookie from the cabinet. She feels like a contented housepet these days as he leans over the counter to speak to her.

It’s painful how attentive König is. His eyes don’t leave her when she speaks and he consistently asks her if she needs anything, if there is anything that he could do to make her feel more comfortable as if he hasn’t already provided her with refuge and companionship, things she hadn’t even realized she had been longing for. As if he hasn’t already made her feel things for a human that no sprite should! Really, the way he loiters about with the stupid grin plastered across his face while she stumbles out of her abode to greet him does nothing to make the flutter in her chest feel warranted. It’s there no matter how much she turns her head away from him and barks out her warnings of curses and other mischief; gnaws at her every time she hears his laugh or he tells her yet another stupid story of things she knows nothing of.

She listens, anyway, utterly mesmerized when he speaks of rescuing hostages or tearing through men like a rampaging bull. He explains to her what guns are, shows her and lets her run her tiny hands over polished metal. She should think him violent and obscene, but the way he looks at her as though she’s all he has stifles any judgements before they can leave her lips.

It quickly froths to a point that she realizes she’s come down with a terrible crush. She worries for him after hearing his tales each time he steps foot out of the house on another deployment, rushes from whichever corner she’s occupied with hurried little steps to greet him. She lets him carry her around on his shoulder sometimes, even leans over his arm when it’s stationed on the counter just to feel him near.

She knows better, which is why she finds herself skittering through tall grass to seek another of her kind. Hoping for a reminder that she’s making too many mistakes. The trip is a short walk for a human, but takes her from morning to sunset to reach her destination, a narrow alder tree full of knotholes with sprigs of dandelion surrounding it.

“You what?!” Bellis exclaims, the very second she’s managed to spill her story and slump against a ruggedly crafted table within the trunk of the tree. Bellis’ voice was like the chirping of little nightingales, and she looks cute when she’s surprised— the other sprite’s brown eyes twinkle in such a way that it makes her think of stars falling into pools of honey.

“Yes… we spoke,” she huffs, curling her arms around her waist, her face feeling hot and her eyes dreamy. Bellis knows the look well enough, the other sprite has it every time she locks eyes with her wife, another sprite far too pretty. It’s affection, one that she graciously spares her friend from commenting on.

“It’s alright, you know… just be safe.”

“Of course…”

She anticipated some long-winded lecture of dangers, to be beaten by words targeting her own selfish wants.

Instead, Bellis only offers comfort and the hope that her feelings are not a lost cause.

“You aren’t the only one who has ended up falling for their human, you know?”

“I thought we were supposed to avoid them, not dream of them.”

Bellis giggles and drapes an arm over her shoulder as she prattles on about sprites and glamours that could make them bigger. She tells her of a couple only a weeks travels away, a male sprite and a human woman, how he feasts upon wild berries and golden herbs under each new moon to keep himself human-sized day and night for the woman that he loves. Bellis reminds her that the other sprites frown upon it out of fear for their own safety, but she also reminds her that she’s damned to live a life far longer than the object of her affection, anyhow, and that if he already knows of her existence then what’s the harm in it?

Those words fill her with fantasies about a happy life, where she can hold her giant properly in an embrace, rather than wrapping her arms around his thumb to satiate the burning affection running rampant through her.

They also damn her to heartbreak when König returns.

He comes home after two short weeks this time, rather than months and she rushes to greet him as always. König bends down on a knee, scoops her up in his palm and brings her over to the sofa where he sets her on the opposite end from where he sits.

“How was your trip?” She asks him sweetly as she plops down onto the pillowy cushion below, fidgeting with the hem of her dress in excitement. She knows what she knows now, and she truly could not wait to tell him, to give life to the newfound feelings in her chest. She wonders what König would say; would he take her on dates? Would he dance across the room with her as she’s seen sprites in the throes of courtship do before? Would he kiss her? The thought makes her feel warm again.

König, on the other hand seems perfectly composed and lost in thought. His hands are fidgeting, but this time, not with themselves. He’s holding a device she doesn’t recognize, tapping at the little screen with the same look in his eyes that she reserves solely for him.

“It was fine.” He mumbles, and for the first time he doesn’t elaborate. She looks forward to his stories. Time away from him is difficult now. It passes slowly without their morning chatter, without his stories, without the films she watches with him late into the night. He’s taught her to use the remote, sure, but it’s not the same without him towering at her side.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

She listens intently when he explains what this strange object is, even shows her the bright screen and lets her tap her hand against it a few times as she looks at the shifting colors with wide eyes.

“I visited a friend while you were away.”

He rests his phone in his lap and looks down at her then, his interest piqued.

“There are more like you?”

“Yes, lots.” She giggles. She tells him of Bellis who lives in the alder with her wife, of how her dark hair curls and her voice sounds like the chirping of birds. König pays rapt attention as she speaks, belays his curiosity of the prospect of there being many more like his little housemate with a tilt of his head.

“I made a friend while I was away.” He gestures toward his phone with a smirk. “Pretty, like you, but bigger.”

König explains to her what a ‘dating app’ is with a look of pure glee on his face. She’s never seen him so happy, not even when he first met her. It’s not a concept she can wrap her head around, her kind just happen upon one another, sing and dance and feast together until love blooms between them. There’s no need for little, lighted rectangles when it came to courtship.

“She’s coming to visit soon.” He pauses as his phone lights up again, his eyes scanning over the message on screen as a grin spreads over his thin lips. “I will have to hide you.”

Her face scrunches in disdain at that as she rises to her feet to pad a bit closer to the hill of his thigh, spread over into the next seat. She places her palms against the rough fabric of his pants, looking up at him with an expression of sheer bewilderment.

“But I don’t wanna hide anymore — we are friends.”

The man’s smile falters a bit then, as he nods his head in agreement.

“Ja… but she will be more.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I am taking her on a date.”

König seems so happy, and yet she feels as if she’s being bitten by a viper. All of that talk with Bellis was for naught, because the human man that’s won her heart by telling her of his creature comforts, of war and sharing his meals with her has left her to have his heart stolen away by another.

Despite the way it hurts, she doesn’t find herself upset with him. He isn’t like her, and he’s been alone for far too long. She reminds herself that König deserves to be happy, especially after all that he’s done for her.

She only lets herself cry when he brings her back to the dollhouse and she sinks into the sheets of her bed.

The following morning comes and she wakes feeling refreshed before König even begins his tapping. She bathes in the little plastic tub filled with lukewarm water König had graciously fetched for her the night before from the faucet, clothes herself in one of the many doll dresses found in the little wooden wardrobe of her home. Dainty florals like the wallpaper in the little wooden house, only this time pink rather than blue.

When König taps at her door, she’s already prepared with her tiny mug and plate in hand, a smile on her face.

“Guten morgen, puppe.” He greets her with a lazy grin as he opens his palm to take her dainty kitchenware. His yawn is cute when he turns away to begin filling the liner of the well with coffee grounds. She follows after him across the countertop with hurried steps to match his vast strides.

As he prepares their breakfast, they speak endlessly of dreams, sweet syrupy things. He tells her he dreams of flowers sometimes, like the ones on her dress, and she tells him she dreams of exploring the world outside with him.

“I will carry you to the top of a mountain one day, little one.” König says sweetly as they both sip at their coffee. He doesn’t prepare it black as often anymore, often adding sugar and milk simply because he knows that she likes it better that way.

She tells him she doesn’t need to see the tops of mountains, because she already gets a perfect view when he carries her.

— — —

“I’ll be back later.”

König is dressed strangely, she notes as she watches him from the arm of the couch. He’s dressed casually, more so than she had ever seen him, which is a large statement considering the man normally roamed around his abode in nothing more than a pair of black sweatpants. Tonight, however, he’s chosen a black t-shirt with some text scrawled across it that she can’t quite read and tough denim. It’s an odd sight when she’s grown so accustomed to the bare flesh of his scarred torso and gaudy military camos unsuited for cozy, indoor wear.

The giant crouches to lace up his boots with one hand while the other holds his phone. There’s that smile on his face again, but she easily takes notice of the way his hand shakes with it in his grip. He’s nervous, but never so with her.

It’s strange that he’s more comfortable with a little creature in his home than he is with his own kind.

“Oh… your date,” she murmurs, standing up to her full height, despite how small it may be.

“Ja, my date.”

“Can we watch another movie when you get back?”

König nods his head as he approaches the couch, slipping his phone back into his pocket before gently stroking the top of her head as though she were just a small kitten.

She doesn’t like the fact that he doesn’t see her as anything more than a cute pet any longer. Sprites didn’t keep track of their ages as humans do, celebrating the day they were born into the world with silly parties and gifts, but she would hazard to guess she’s at least a century older, maybe more. This wasn’t her first home, only, in the last she had watched that family wither away to an endless rest.

König was different; she wanted him to stay, thrive, live forever here with her. A selfish, silly wish.

When she leans into his touch, she thinks of the couple Bellis spoke of— a sprite and a human woman. It could be the same for she and König, if only he saw her for what she truly was, what she was capable of being.

“Ja, little one. As many as you like.”

She watches as the door closes behind him with her heart in her throat.

König does not keep her waiting long. If she had to hazard any sort of guess, she would assume that the moon hanging in the sky had barely moved by the time he returns. She hadn’t even left the couch, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling when the front door is flung open.

If it were possible for him to somehow look more pitiable, he does in that moment as he kicks off his boots and rests his phone and keys on the table by the door. She knows without a word exchanged that she should not ask him what’s happened. The broad shoulders were slumped, his face somehow paler. In that moment, her giant seemed even smaller than her.

She sits up and presses the buttons on the remote with her entire hand as König had shown her how to do, loading up some Austrian film he had told her was his favorite when he was just a boy. He offers her a lazy smile as he carefully places himself a respectful distance away and leans back into the couch. The movie plays while she occasionally speaks up to ask him what certain words mean, and he patiently teaches her, seeming thankful for the distraction she eagerly provides.

She doesn’t wake in her small house, in her tiny bed, this time, instead pressed against his thigh with his hand draped over her in the world’s heaviest blanket. When she raises her head up to look at him, peacefully resting with his head tilted against the back of the couch, jaw slack and dark lashes fluttering she makes a firm decision.

The golden herbs and berries Bellis had mentioned were on the far side of the forest. A long, dangerous trek, especially for someone who didn’t know the way. Rousing a mouse to treat as a steed could work, but the urgency caused her to fret. She wanted to meet his gaze and not fear stumbling back with each exhale of his breath, to be strong and capable enough to make her giant somehow feel as safe as he made her feel. There was no time to befriend a mouse and train it proper, not if she intended to do this before the new moon came and went.

She slips from beneath König’s limp palm, off of the sofa and out the small gap in the window to set off.

— — —

The early morning is alive with the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves and calls of strange animals a distance away when she makes it outdoors. She shields herself beneath a broad fallen leaf, hunkering down to soil any time anything soars or wanders too close for her liking. Morning dew chills her to her bones, and she has herself convinced that after all of this she will most certainly craft herself a coat, perhaps one made out of a sleeve from one of König’s old shirts. He would allow it, she’s certain. The thought of him even wasting a day away to help her fills her up with another warmth to carry on.

Her little dress is filthy before she even makes it out of the yard.

Tall grass quickly morphs into a forested trail, the trees so vast and tall, filled with the chattering and singing of others. She waves to some of them, turns her nose up at a few that beckon her to join their little communes hidden beneath layers of tree bark and moss. She spots a red fox chasing after another in the midst of play, they chitter and whine as they topple over one another before bounding off into the brush.

When the sun completes a lazy crawl high up into the sky, it’s rays of warmth beaming down on to the back of the leaf, warming her fingers as they curl over it to keep it in place, she knows she should stop and rest. Tucked away in the shade of a small mulberry bush, she shoos away a vibrantly colored caterpillar before cleaning off one of the berries with a handkerchief she finds in the pocket of her dress. A small lunch that simply leaves her wishing for König’s breakfasts instead, always warm and filled with moments of soft laughter.

She wonders what he’s spending his time doing now, almost feeling a pang of guilt for leaving him after what had assuredly been a terrible outing with a woman he had admired. Did he miss her? Was he thinking of her, too? Searching through his bookshelf and beneath his couch in an effort to find her? She hoped so.

Her journey ends when night finally comes about. The moon above is a mere sliver, but it’s enough to frame the clusters of goldenrod in a soft, white glow amidst a sea of inky darkness. She cheers in utter delight when she realizes she’s made it, that despite no map or guides her senses were keen enough to carry her on the right path. She carefully gathers a few clippings, dropping them into a neat pile before seeking out the strange berries Bellis had told her about. Her thoughts are flooded by the idea of how she and König will dance, how she will tell him in a voice as loud as his own that she’s fallen head over heels for him and that perhaps, he can even teach her to use one of his many weapons before they clamber onto the couch snug and warm to talk throughout a film.

Those thoughts keep her warm when she beds down in a nest of wild grasses.

The next night fills her with excitement. The sky is darker with the new moon hanging up above, only pinpricks of starlight break through the dark. She pictured herself human sized as she performs her little ritual, feasting on berries and swaying with a sprig of goldenrod in a little dance before she bites down into it to. There are other sprites here, doing the same. Some get bigger to move or for silly things such as being able to shop in human markets or taste meat for the first time. They sing and giggle just as she does, and she sees the face flush with love of the one she knew Bellis had spoken of. It lasts the entire night, and she’s far too excited to sleep or stay out when all is done.

She doesn’t know when she’ll change shape, not having thought to even ask, but the sight of the other sprites had solidified her belief that it would come to pass.

The way back feels far shorter than the way forward. She finds herself back in the yard just as the sky settles into mottled purples and orange and puffy white clouds. The smile on her face makes her cheeks hurt, and her chest and legs ache from exertion, but she treks on until she meets the brick foundation of the house. With and arm raised and a foot dig into the firm clay, she begins to climb up towards the window still left slightly ajar.

Only, she feels a warmth at her side that tosses her back into the grass steps away. It pulls her breath from her lungs and it takes a moment for her to force herself back up into a crouch and her vision to cease its swimming. She’s always found cats to be cute from a distance away, all soft fur and pleasant sounds. The one before her, however seems menacing, its claws are bared and its pupils blown as his mouth hangs open to scent. The orange of its fur is like fire, the yellow of irises like the sun itself.

This thing was going to kill her, she knew it before she even caught sight of the way claws had slashed through the side of her dirty dress leaving shallow gashes in her flesh.

The cat rears back, shifting on its haunches in preparation to pounce as she wails out König’s name in a near-silent prayer that he would come rescue her from this adorable little murderer.

The cat is caught in arms the size of trees mid-leap. It yowls for a moment before a hand gently begins to stroke the fiery fur behind its ears. Her giant coos to the little beast, and the vibration of a soft purr could be heard as she dusts herself off and stands.

“Are you alright, little one?”

His voice is sweet as he carefully sets the cat back into the grass and scoops her up instead. She looks pitiful— dirty, injured and panting as though she’s just escaped Hell itself. König’s expression grows horribly concerned before she can even catch her breath enough to respond.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles as she rests her weary head on the palm that feels more like rough stone than living flesh. “I was only gone for two nights, did you have to get a pet?”

König laughs at that, shaking his head as he takes her back inside the house with metered steps.

“Nein, I did not. He’s the neighbor’s.”

He shuts the door behind him, taking care to ensure the scruffy feline didn’t sneak inside.

“Let’s clean you up, hm?”

The man offers her a human bandage for the scrape along her waist before she wanders into the dollhouse to bathe, dress the wound and change into something less dirty.

After everything, she finds herself utterly exhausted. She tells König good night wishes, but her giant is hellbent on keeping her in his sight. After a close call like that, she doesn’t protest when he tells her they should sleep on the couch again instead. It’s safer, and after two days apart there’s little more that she wants than to be close to him, tucked under his palm eternally safe. König only gets through the start of a story before she’s fallen asleep curled against the side of his thigh. It doesn’t take long for the giant to follow suit, either. His soft snoring is present in her dreaming, a gentle sound accompanying the breeze of wind through a field of lavender where they sit hand-in-hand.

— — —

König does not wake her with gentle tapping the next morning. Instead, it’s a bark of surprise that jolts her from her sleeping. Her vision is blurry when her eyelids flutter. She can make out the view of the coffee table, the television beyond it, and somehow it feels wrong. She was accustomed to straining her neck to look up at things, yet seeing them now she doesn’t need to at all. In fact, it feels stranger when she notes her head is no longer resting on the cushion of the couch below, but on a broad shoulder layered in muscle instead.

König is staring at her as though he’s just encountered a ghoul. In fact, he’s trembling too. His reaction is enough to prompt her to shrink back, away from him and retreat to the arm of the couch. Only, she can’t fit the entirety of herself there as easily as she had many times before. Her legs are much too long, and making her ascent only brings her hands into view. She holds one to her face and marvels at it before her gaze trails down, down and she notices she’s nude. The little dress she had been wearing was no more than a tattered and torn mess on the couch beside König, who’s still gawking at her.

He turns his head away rigidly after a moment while she sits bewildered by her change in shape. The man returns after a beat with a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers in hand, thrusting them towards her graciously as he keeps his face turned away. She can make out the red tint on his cheeks, the way his lips part only to slam shut when words fail him and she laughs full and giddy as she slips his clothing on and stands up to twirl about the room.

“It worked!”

Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears now. Shouting from her regular stature still resulted in a mere whisper, yet this… along with seeing all she can hear all. Just as he does, she sounds of rustling wind chimes.

She reaches for his hand to pull him along in her rhythmless swaying, and he obliges with a sigh and a shake of his head. König’s grinning, though. Even more so than when he wasted his time tapping away at the phone screen. He looks happier than she’s ever seen him as he clumsily shuffles with her.

“Little one… what did you do?”

He’s still a fair bit bigger than her, but she stands the height she feels as though she should. Her giant is still a giant no matter what silly magic she uses, but it’s fine, because he’s not looking at her as a tiny doll anymore, but in utter amazement instead. The way his pulse races and his pale cheeks burn crimson isn’t lost on her.

She explains to him just what the other sprite told her, tells him about the one she saw so in love with a human woman he did the same each month to keep himself more her size too. König halts her movement as he tugs her against him and pulls her into an embrace, the very thing she’s yearned for since the afternoon they began to speak. She knows he’s confused and entirely confused, but he bends to rest his chin on the crown of her head and squeezes her so tightly that she knows he’s grateful for this small miracle too.

She helps König prepare breakfast this time. Having watched him ready his coffee pot dozens of times by now, she knows how to operate the small, black machine. She prepared the toast too, with a gratuitous sweep of jam over each slice of the warm bread. König is still overly gentle with her, keeping his distance and not resting his hands on her unless it’s required or she prompts it. She does, often intertwine her fingers with his even as they eat, which earns her a shy smile and a gentle squeeze each time. Her giant isn’t nervous with her, their conversations are the same. He tells her that she’s pretty as often as before, cups a steady hand on her shoulder when she reaches out to embrace him after their meal.

She thinks ahead and leads König into the forest to gather a plethora of golden herb and berries to stuff into the winter box for the next time she will need to perform her little ritual, and he swears to her that he will stay up the entire night to watch over her then. The walk is so much shorter from her height now, but she doesn’t forget to tap at Bellis’ alder and flash the sprite a little smile and a wave when König has his back turned on the way back.

He still has his work, and she waits at home for him like a doting housewife. Only now, he returns with gifts. His closet is no longer dark green and black— there are patches of soft colors and whites between, floral fabric and lace, dainty things that seem comical amidst the tactical articles and denims she knows he’s scrubbed blood off of a few too many times.

They don’t share a bed, but they still cuddle against one another on the couch. Hand-in-hand as she’s always dreamt of. In fact, most nights it’s his bed that she sleeps in while he rests elsewhere, and he doesn’t mind it at all. He even tucks her in and presses a kiss to her cheek that makes her so giddy that she can’t find sleep until a half-hour afterwards before he flicks off the lamp and leaves her to her dreaming.

— — —

She’s better at keeping track of time after adjusting to a more domesticated life. König’s been out for fifty-four days, but she doesn’t have to miss him so much. He’s gifted her a phone, sends her letters with his stories scrawled out in black ink. The calls are frequent, and she finds she loves them most of all. They’re at odd hours often, and he always breathes out an apology for having woken her that pulls a giggle from her, because they both know she wouldn’t have preferred to wake any other way than from the sound of his voice.

“I miss you.”

He sounds tired when he says it, and she imagines that he is. Those weary looks from before they had ever even spoken weren’t unwarranted and she knows well enough now. His tales of his heroics were not all spoken to simply boast.

“I miss you too, König.”

He huffs out a laugh into the phone, and she imagines his smile reaching the bright eyes that she loves, twinkling in mirth.

“I should let you sleep.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pauses to chew on her lip, heart sailing up into her throat. “Will you be coming home soon?”

He grunts out his confirmation. “Tomorrow.”

“I wish to take you on a date then— a picnic, maybe. I can bake a cake.”

König falls silent for a moment, and her breathing halts entirely as she slumps back against the bed— his bed— feeling as though she were still just as small as before. Surely… she could not have misread all of those little looks, the warmth and his fluttering pulse she felt as she rested her head on his arm so many times before. She parts her lips to recant her statement, but there’s no need. The contented sigh she hears in response is all of an answer that she needs.

“Ja, please. I would be honored.”

#könig #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #könig fanfiction

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spaghettitoesforlunch · 2 months

Text

This may be a lil delulu and like projecting but liiiike buff men and just biting them….specially Cod 141 men

Like honestly I just wanna bite their arms so hard but also wanna kiss it as a sorry yknow? Like their broad shoulder…just a lil nip. Pecs? Lil nipple won’t won’t hurt. Thighs…maybe a suck and a kiss leave a mark where no one will see. Fingers?!?? I just wanna naw on them till my jaw dislocates. Like honestly it’s a problem.

But like imagine doing to to price…he’s just doing paper work by his desk, the usual. But you just can’t help yourself when he’s writing something down or typing some boring shit out. It’s like he’s taunting you with the way his biceps just look. Firm and so nice, like they just look so bite able. You just do a little chomp nothing too bad. But he just pauses, confused on what the hell just happened. Trying to comprehend why you just bit him. Are you hungry? Is that what you’re trying to hint at? Like there must be a reason right? So when he asks you and you just reply with a simple shrug he just nods his head a bit confused. But nonetheless goes back to work.

In later experiences when you do have that sudden urge hell just give you a lollipop to suck or munch on. He’s learned about this sort of oral fixation you have. Has noticed after the first time that you do tend to chew on things. So from now on he’ll just keep some dum dum’s in his desk. He learned the hard way not to give you gum cause you’ll just pop it the whole time. Blowing bubbles non stop just cause you like the feeling of that ‘pop’.

But now I’m imagining Simon and his hand…mostly his fingers. Just chewing one or two. He wouldn’t even care. Just continue on with whatever he was doing, just now only with one hand. It might even feel nice to him, like honestly might ground him. His mind focusing on you just chewing, or sucking even, on his fingers. Wouldn’t even mind if you leave marks on him. Might even turn him on. Maybe he would try to shut you up one day with putting his hand over your mouth. But you just bite him. And you bite him, hard enough for it to draw some blood. You licking it up he just stares groaning slightly saying ‘he’ll give you something to lick, he too can play that game.’

I have more ideas to this but it was getting a little long soooo

#tf 141 #task force 141 #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #john price #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader

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fuxuannie · 1 year

Note

hello ! this is my first hsr req ! can i have dan heng nd blade (separate) with an s/o that somehow made them laugh? (cus yknow both of them are cold and shi😭)

↳ pairing : dan heng & blade x gn reader

↳ synopsis : request ♡

↳ authors note : thought this would be a cute idea, i had tons of fun writing this! i hope you enjoyyy !! ssliiightly suggestive for blade ❔❔that was so harf to write im CRYING!!!

People can't say they aren't surprised over the relationship you and DAN HENG formed over the years you two developed a bond. The seemingly ice-cold Cloud Piercer spending time with the Space Stations researching sweetheart was certainly a sight to see. And while you'd be lively chatting away, Dan Heng was at your side intently listening and inserting his input now and then.

One day, while you two were talking over lunch, you decided to make a really stupid joke while you two were eating.

"Psst. Why did the rocket scientist dump his ex?" Dan Heng blinks a few times in confusion as he drinks his tea, setting it down on the table before sighing. "Weird question.. why?"

"Cause he had no comet-ment!"

You can see his eyes widen slightly, a hand going to his mouth as you can see him muffle a laughter but eventually allows himself to snicker at your horrible joke. "Was that a laugh?!" You smile, standing from your seat while slightly slamming your table in the process. "Did I just get the Dan Heng to laugh?"

He eventually ends his fit of laughter, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a rather endearing look. "Yes yes, you got the Dan Heng to laugh.. whatever that means."

"I got my Dan Heng to laugh, hehehee.." You giggled, walking over to give him a hug as he's happy to return the embrace. "Yeah yeah, you with your corny jokes.."

"Heey..!-"

You weren't entirely sure how to get your stone faced boyfriend to laugh, let alone smile at his own will. The closest thing you've gotten was his hums of pleasure whenever you two would kiss, so maybe thats the way you'll get your boyfriend to smile.

You tap him on the shoulder, catching his attention as he turns his gaze to look at you. Tapping your lips with your index finger and he immediately understands what you're asking, grabbing your hand softly as he brings you to a much more hidden area. "This was sudden." He'll say, caressing your cheek as you smile. "I mean, not like I can predict when I wanna kiss you."

He's more than happy to satisfy that for you, leaning down to kiss you in the exact way you always want. But to his surprise, your hand travels to the back of his head as you pull him close and run your fingers through his hair. You can hear a startled muffle from him amidst the kiss you shared, but his body language clearly showed he was into it. Leaning further in as his hands explore every inch of your body, you can see that he's lost in his own enjoyment.

Blade takes a moment to pull away for a breath of air, and as his forehead is pressed against yours - he lets out a breathless chuckle with a clear smirk across his features.

So you can imagine his confusion when your gaze of passion turned to excitement, pulling away as you smile. "I did it!"

"Did.. what?"

"I got you to laugh! Even with a smile, technically smirk.. but a wins a win!" You hummed, cupping his face in your hands as he sighs. "So that's why.. you could've just asked to see me smile, you know?"

"But wheres the fun in that? I just wanted to see you smile is all."

"You alone make me happy, though I may not show it physically, my actions and heart speak for itself.. so please, my heart asks if we can continue where we left off."

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #blade hsr x reader

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thoughtsforsoob · 1 month

Text

txt x latina!reader

a/n: I know some people said not to write this but I desperately want to :( I think this is really self-indulgent but I hope at least one or two people will enjoy this post and maybe find it comforting or relateable. Latina!MOA, I love you !!!

yeonjun

the first thing that came to my head was him getting along with any siblings/cousins you may have

hispanic families are pretty big and he really enjoys being around everyone and getting to know your family

all the tias also try to steal him away from you and like to ask him all kinds of questions about his jobs

they're all impressed with him and he's all red because all the attention makes him shy

later on, they text you being all like "congrats mija, you picked a good one"

I also feel like he would want to impress your parents so badly

he wants to make a great first impression so he bring your mom a pretty bouquet of her favorite flowers and a necklace ("ay no! pesto es de marca buena!")

for your dad, he brings him a fancy liquor bottle and something else he has an interest in (he begs for your help to find the perfect gift and you're all like, "don't worry! he doesn't worry about being gifted things"

ends up buying him fancy watch and your dad is just in shock with the Rolex in his hand

he makes a great impression for say the least

you mom texts him to check on your when you haven't checked in and they even hang out by themselves when you visit home. she called him "hijito"

your dad is a little skeptical (because who's dad isn't) but eventually comes around when yeonjun invites him to a sporting event together. they have a couple drinks, get to talking and he expresses that his intentions with you are serious, which pleases your dad.

soobin

he's so shy when you tell him that your parents are coming to visit because he hadn't thought it would happen so soon

he was only doing practice schedules for that week so he was able to spend time with them when he got home

he begs you to teach him some Spanish so that he can make a good impression and try him best to connect with them, even if they also speak English.

he comes home one night and they're in the living room, you in the kitchen fixing up dinner...he's frozen but manages a small wave and a little "hola~"

your mama finds him very sweet looking and gets up, going him a hug and squishing one of his doughy cheeks.

your dad on the other hand...not very impressed...(latino dads like the mach types for their baby girls and soobin isn't very...yknow)

he notices this and walks over to shake his hand, which your dad reluctantly does

you come into the living room and call everyone for dinner, which happened to be pozole since it was super cold out

soobin loves the meal and it impresses your parents (you've been feeding him mexican dishes to prepare him for their visit and he loves them so you gave nothing to worry about)

you have to facilitate the conversation but the night ends without incident

the next day, you and soobin take your parents out to some sights

he does his best to explain where they were in the little English and Spanish he knew and you're parents appreciate his effort

he buys meals and pays for all four of you and they urge him not to but he insists because he wants to prove that he cares about them and takes care of you on the daily

they enjoy their trip and overall approve of him

beomgyu

he knew that you were hispanic when you first started dating and also begged you to teach him some Spanish so he can impress your parents when he eventually meets them

once you express your family dynamic with him, he becomes a little more understanding

he knew that you struggled to get along with your family because of the choice you'd made to move abroad but never fully understood it until one day when your parents had called you

he had just come home from filming a To Do with the boys that day and he heard you on the phone, so he sat next to you

you let him say hello and he got up and walked off to take a shower

the conversation, like it so often happens to, switch to the topic of you moving away and when you were going to come back

when you let them know you're not coming back and they you were established and had a boyfriend, your mom and dad started to get upset, once again

something a long the lines of "Hija, you can't seriously want to live there forever? What about your family? We miss you? Plus, you should really date someone a little different. Ese muchacho no es hombre."

you go off about how it's not fair how they try to guild you like this and immediately hang up

beomgyu heard a little bit of it and vaguely understood what they'd said so he comes to you to try to help you calm down a little

he holds you while you cry to him about the argument you just had and how they want you to go home and leave him for someone else

he comforts you so well

"I may not understand why they think it's okay to try and tell you what to do, but you're old enough to make your own choices and choose whoever you want to be with. I understand your culture is a little different from mine but I try to understand. we're gonna work this out and I'll make sure they like me."

your smile up and him and go about your night, making dinner and having a nice self care night since he knew you desperately needed it.

taehyun

this guy is so supportive of you, especially because he knows there are struggles that come along with being a foreigner

he is so interested in learning Spanish

he will sit there with you, textbook and notebook on the table, and go over grammar and vocab and everything

he loves practicing with you by saying sweet things and integrating vocab into everyday conversation

he really wants to impress you, and eventually your family

he also wants to connect with you on a deeper level

back to the being a foreigner thing...he really supports you and gets so angry when people say stuff about you in public

you were both at a cafe one time and an older woman kept staring at you

taehyun noticed and tried to move you behind him but she kept looking in your direction

she eventually comes up to you both and starts asking you a bunch of questions that weren't so kind and tyunnie was so annoyed and upset

you, being the nice person you are, patiently answered her questions even if they bothered you as well

once she left, tyun looked at you with his big pretty eyes and asked you if you were okay

you've also had younger girls, around your age, make snarky comments about you In public but taehyun knows exactly what to do in these scenarios

he pulls you in by your waist and kisses you just to shut them up

she loves your differences so much and celebrates them any chance he gets

huening kai

baby loves the food and when you speak to him in spanish

she loves the pet names in Spanish and says they somehow seem more sweet

his favorite would def be "mi amortico"

when you call him that he just melts into a puddle

his favorite one to call you is "bebe" because he thinks it perfectly captures you

like I said, he loves the food

when hes hungry, he now has the habit of just making a simple quesadilla just the way you taught him

he burns himself the first couple tries when flipping the tortilla with his bare hands but he gets the hang of it eventually

he hates that there isn't more Mexican food/ingredients in Korea but whenever its possible, he orders stuff online and surprises you with it!

he will want to learn all of the recipes you know and calls them your cooking dates

oh my goodness...when he meets you parents

they think he's kind of goofy looking (something my parents would say) but they would ultimately deem him a sweet boy

I feel like he is a grandmas boy so he is sticking to your grandma and you the whole time

your grandma feeds him tortillas with limon y sal and he is just so happy eating them

he also wants to learn Spanish so he can communicate better with abuelita (and you ig LMAO)

he loves your culture and how lively it is

he loves dancing with you at these family parties

#txt x reader #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt post #txt #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader

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multi-fandomedfreak · 9 months

Note

Mayyy I order some more Creepypasta headcanons but with Slendy this time?? I don’t mind if u wanna add any more characters but I really want some slendy in there lol

Authors note: Sure thing! I love Slendy too and I was gonna write him in my last Creepypasta headcanons but it would’ve been too long. So this will be a continuation to the other kissing headcanons. (Also sorry this took so long)

Characters: Slendy, LJ, and Helen

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️: Uhh surprisingly non?? Unless sharp noses and sharp teeth should be a warning

🧍Slenderman 🧍

(as u may tell, I’m running out of ideas on the emojis)

-Does he have a mouth???

-Pretending that he does, I feel like he would love giving you head/forehead kisses

-He would prefer receiving kisses rather than giving them tho (definitely not because he canonically doesn't have a mouth)

-But it's kinda hard for him to show that

-Like imagine you trying to leave before kissing him goodbye, most likely cuz you forgot, and he just won't let you leave

-He won't tell you why tho, he'll just let you figure it out until you kiss him

-He's also BIG on giving you a good squeeze after a kiss

-Idk there's just something about him that screams "I will hug you."

-Definitely likes carrying you rather than him leaning down to kiss you

-hurts the poor old man's back

-Buuut if you find it attractive when someone taller than you leans down to listen to you better

-He will 100% know that

-And 10000% use that to his advantage to kiss you in any way

-He also doesn't care if you kiss him in front of other people or not

-He's Slenderman, like, no one would even think about teasing him about it

-Except Sally of course

-would probably love -if you wear makeup- for you to leave a kiss mark on the collar of his suits

🍬 Laughing Jack 🍬

-Just so you know, his pointy nose is DEFINITELY getting in the way sometimes

-Like that thing can poke your eye out

-That being said, he sometimes likes to poke you on the cheek with his nose

-Probably does it when asking for a kiss tbh

-Loves to bare his sharp teeth at you to try and get a reaction out of you when going in for a kiss

-But you kiss him anyway, bc, cmon. Those teeth are 😮‍💨

-ANYWAY, he gives me cuddle bug vibes

-Like if he really wants to, he’ll hold you as tight as he can without killing you and kiss you all over your face

-TALL BOI

-So he prob likes it when you have to get on your tip toes to kiss him

-will stand up completely straight just to see you struggle to reach him

-He also loves it when he rests his chin on your head after a kiss

-Doesn’t mind kissing in a public setting and doesn’t care about getting teased from the other pastas

-Soooo, if he’s sitting down, expect to be pulling onto his lap from time to time

-Only if ur ok with it tho

-He doesn’t like to see you uncomfortable in any way

-A sucker for giving you kisses on your neck

-He just gives that vibe that he’s into neck kisses yknow?

-keeps his claws sway from you as you two kiss (he doesn’t wanna hurt you on accident)

🎨 Bloody Painter 🖌️

-More likely than not, you’d have to be the one to initiate a kiss from him

-It’s very very very rare for him to be the one to kiss you first in a day

-Though when he does kiss you first, know it’s super meaningful

-He struggles to show affection due to his upbringing

-I also feel like his kisses would always be short but sweet

-But if your the one to initiate a kiss, he’ll definitely be very passionate about it

-Even if he doesn’t initiate kisses all that much

-He likes to just be leaning or be pressed up against you

-Like when watching a movie on a couch or something

-He’ll prob just use you as a back rest lol

-I also feel like he isn’t the biggest fan of neck kisses but also doesn’t mind them

-Although he’ll never admit it, he adoresss it when you kiss him on his forehead

-It’s just so domestic to him it feels great

-Especially when you rub his arms up and down as you do it

-He’ll quite literally melt but try his best to keep his composure

#creepy pasta #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #slenderman x reader #slenderman x you #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack x you #bloody painter #helen otis #bloody painter x reader #helen otis x reader #creepy pasta x reader

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joanquill · 10 months

Note

If you’re requests are open(feel free to ignore this if not) HEAR ME OUT, headcanons/imagine/whatever you wanna do really with the moriarty bros liking a childhood friend(separately or they can all like the. Friend that’s up to you) like maybe it was the kid that one duchess adopted(yknow the one that made Earl Moriarty feel like he had to adopt a kid) cause like the duchess was like an actual nice person who wanted to help the poor an all that so maybe she raised the orphan the same way?(im so heckin sorry if none of this makes sense my dude, I’m horrible at this rip)

Being Childhood Friends with the Moriarty Brothers

Albert, William, and Louis James Moriarty

A/N: It's okay my guy! It was clear and it was really fun writing this one :) I may have forgotten the romance part last minute asjkas so it's longer than normal :') Tag/s: Long (1.7k words)

Growing up in the orphanage since you were a baby, you have half given up on the idea of being adopted.

So the fact that a kind woman-- a duchess no less, adopted you was a surprise you never saw coming.

But you were grateful for your new life and the woman you now call your mother for this second chance.

Coming from rock bottom yourself, you and the duchess worked hard with foundations and charities for the poor and unfortunate, even if it meant scandals and rumors circling around you and your new family.

However, your new title didn't mean anything to other noble kids.

You were scrutinized and avoided like a plague by other noble families.

This didn't come as a surprise, but it was still uncomfortable attending balls and having everyone stay five feet away from you, spreading rumors about you being riddled with disease.

The duchess defended you, saying despite not being bound by blood, you were her child through and through and a noble.

Unfortunately, her words only fell on deaf ears.

Not that you mind, knowing firsthand how the rich treat the poor on the streets.

Worried about you feeling lonely, your mother tried to make friends with other fellow mothers and set up a playdate or tea parties, rich or poor.

Even when you tried to play nice with other nobles, as suggested by the duchess, the noble kids didn't give you a chance.

It also didn't help with their mothers calling your mother a hedge creeper, wagtail, or their husband's mistress.

To say you were banned from a couple of tea parties was an understatement.

However, hearing Lord Moriarty also adopted kids, the duchess wasted no time setting up a playdate for you.

Albert James Moriarty

You two have actually met before during a party.

Granted, scaring the kids who threw rocks at you to run into a thorny rose bush was not the best first impression, but it did make quite an impact on him.

He found you in the gardens, admiring the flowers, when a group of kids thought it would be funny to throw rocks at you.

He was about to tell off the kids until one threw a rock especially hard, making you fall on your face.

Snapping, you decided to play along with their accusations of you being diseased.

A limp in your step, hoarse voice, reaching out your arms to them as you chased them through the gardens and made them run through a thorny bush, making you smile in triumph.

Albert saw the whole thing, hiding a smile behind his hand as he watched you dust yourself off.

He was about to introduce himself to you until he saw your forehead bleeding and led you back inside to treat your wound.

It may not have been the best way, but hey! You made a friend!

Ever since that day, you would always look for Albert and follow him around for the rest of the gathering.

You knew his mother hated you, and his brother saw you as an insect. But you just completely ignore them and talk to Albert, making the two furious.

He taught you the etiquette needed to see in nobles and even the dances for different music.

If you two weren't outside avoiding the party, you two were talking and eating in the corner off in your own world.

Because of this, some noble kids started trying to get close to you to reach Albert or just hate your complete existence.

Despite all this, you kept hanging out with Albert unapologetically, seeing he was as lonely as you were in this rich man's world.

NOW while he only saw you as a good friend, Albert knew he wanted to stay by your side as long as he could.

Sneaking out of parties, knowing looks, and inside jokes the two of you only knew were some of his treasured memories.

However, he also knew the judging stares of other nobles, saying you weren't supposed to be here.

He tried to step away, hoping you would be safer if you had some distance, but he would always find you within arm's reach.

You kept smiling and being yourself despite everyone around you waiting for one mistake to drag you down.

You were the only one who was a genuine friend to him, wanting nothing in return but his company.

While you were rough around the edges as a noble, you were a gem as a person, always lending a helping hand to those in need.

You were also the only one who would accompany him during his trips to the orphanages or outreach programs.

He would even catch you volunteering, hosting charities, or helping others with your own pocket money.

So when he saw you jumping into traffic to save a child, tattering your outfit in the process but smiling in relief to see the child was safe, he knew he couldn't let you go.

William James Moriarty

The first time you heard about William was from Albert about how he met a genius orphan who knew how to read advanced books at a young age and even gave advice to adults despite being a child.

And now, here you were on a playdate with him and his younger brother.

You tried getting close to the two, seeing how Albert praised them and wanted to get to know them better.

But you couldn't help but notice an invisible wall around the two brothers. Especially William.

While William was friendly from the start, you noticed something lurking behind his smile.

This didn't stop you from trying to be friends with them, though.

Relying on Albert's stories (and Albert himself), you tried getting close to William through his intellect.

Reading books together, visiting museums and art galleries, going to the public library, even showing him your own textbooks from your school.

His teasing you for your wrong answers was not welcomed, though.

Whenever you would ask him something, no matter how absurd, he always entertained you and gave you an answer.

During your talks, you would always have tea and snacks ready, considering how some of them would last for hours.

Slowly, William started to make the first move and approach you.

Offering to teach you lessons you found difficult, offering a tea party, or suggesting somewhere new for you four to visit.

Despite noticing the distance between you two getting smaller, you could still feel the invisible wall between you.

However, this didn't stop you from befriending the boy and treating him like the kid he was.

When he first met you, he thought you were only interesting, seeing as you were the reason he and Louis got adopted in the first place.

When he would approach you, it was only to feed your curiosity, seeing as you had a lot of questions about different things.

He would always give you an answer, watching your expression change as you listen to him.

Slowly, he started enjoying talking to you, amused at how you would find interest in the most bizarre things, ranging from random trivia to high-level knowledge.

That was until he found out you were asking for advice on how to put on successful charities and programs to help people.

When you revealed to him your plans to make a hospital for the impaired, you were proud of yourself for surprising the boy.

Even more when you told him you'd make sure to give him the recognition he deserved.

Considering how his intellect was only used for simple things such as growing flowers or for schemes like robbing a bank, you were a refreshing change of pace.

Now whenever you would ask him something, he would try to guess what you had planned through your questions, sometimes even teasing you when he got it right (which was all the time).

It became a little game between you two, one which he would look forward to and catch himself smiling at the sight of you.

Louis James Moriarty

Louis was the hardest one to become friends with.

He never left William's side and would keep his eyes on you.

Whenever you tried to talk to Louis, he only gave you short answers.

However, this didn't faze you as you kept trying to find a middle ground.

Not surprisingly, he would liven up whenever you would mention or compliment William.

Much to the boy's dismay, who is usually no farther than three feet away from you both.

Considering he had heart surgery, you tried to be considerate and only hang out at the Moriarty manor to spend time with him.

This was how you found out how he was treated by the staff.

While the butler treated you better for being a guest, you didn't excuse his treatment of Louis.

Now, you always help Louis with his chores and glare at the butler whenever Louis mentions the things he made him do.

One day, you offhanded mentioned how strong Louis must have been, going through everything he had.

Surprised by the sudden compliment, he mutters how untrue it was and what a burden he was to his brother.

This made you shower him with praise, saying he should be more confident in himself.

After that, Louis started warming up to you. Even greeting you as soon as you arrive with a smile on his face.

You may have bragged to Albert about being the first one to befriend Louis out of you two.

At first, he was wary of you. Despite knowing you were also adopted, he didn't trust you.

But you would always make an effort to get to know Louis, even doing chores with him and defending him whenever you visit.

You never looked at him with pity and treated him just like another kid.

Whenever you and his brothers would play, you would always invite Louis and even pull him along, whether it was just hanging out in the manor or visiting some exotic spot in the city.

You would always listen and pay attention to him, making sure he was heard and seen by others whenever he spoke up.

And whenever he spoke ill of himself, you try to boost his confidence and point out his good points with clear eyes.

So when you called him strong and said how much he meant to you and his brothers, he knew you weren't lying.

Slowly, Louis started warming up to you and even clinging to you, which didn't go unnoticed by you three.

You may have cried tears of joy while William and Albert clapped for you.

Now, he considers you one of his trusted confidants and was always the first to greet you, even preparing your favorite tea and snacks in advance for your visits.

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