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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Note

i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((

Banner picture credit: @661ave

possession

noun

the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint. A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)

He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.

And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none.

He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.

He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any.

Family, or friends, that is.

When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?

It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute.

There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need?

Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir.

She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…

And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.

She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven.

He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?

He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago.

It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus.

He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy.

When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away.

It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home.

Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard.

It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.

His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.

It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube.

Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.

He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her?

And god, how he would fuck her…

Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…

He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob.

He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.

"Scheisse–"

He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.

She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.

He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.

…

She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.

She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of.

Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.

Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things?

But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.

He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.

With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all.

There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.

What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?

He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.

He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job.

The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.

Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.

So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up.

She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…

She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.

"I got you something... Merry Christmas."

"Aw… You shouldn't have…"

She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.

"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.

He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb.

Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for…

"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically.

Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present.

Well, shit. Fuck.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."

"That’s nice to hear."

"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."

He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.

"You already got me Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, but… You paid for them."

"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"

He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.

"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways.

"I truly did."

She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.

"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying.

"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."

She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.

"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."

"...What does that mean?"

"It means 'Happy New Year'."

"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"

Shit.

Shit…

"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."

She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.

"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.

"Something naughty."

Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too.

"Really…?"

"Yes."

"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."

Playful, naughty, dirty.

She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.

Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening?

"I want to lick your pussy."

There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.

"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"

"Ja."

It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.

Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress.

With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.

When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.

"Go ahead then," she whispers.

He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.

She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.

It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips.

Mein.

Mein…

He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.

Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.

And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.

He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin.

"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"

He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries.

To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.

"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"

She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams.

The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin.

Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined.

Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.

And he's only about to fuck her…

"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.

"Oh–oh god…"

Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds.

"Wait–"

"I will fuck you now."

"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"

She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for.

"Hm. I don't have any."

"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child...

But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.

Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...?

How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?

She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft.

"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.

She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go.

"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"

"I am."

He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.

And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.

He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.

"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."

Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove.

"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"

It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.

"Ok…"

"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"

"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"

The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.

"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.

"O‐oh…?"

"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."

"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"

If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness.

"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."

He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had.

He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely.

"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"

"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"

Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.

He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog.

"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"

He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck.

She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.

"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"

She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.

"Will you stay? For the night…?"

His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content.

"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”

She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity.

She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.

“I'm sorry..."

"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.

For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.

He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…

She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.

She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.

He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.

It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.

The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women.

When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.

"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."

There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.

And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.

"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"

She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…

"Liebling... Me too."

"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."

"Oh I fear a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like… flying, for example."

"But you fly all the time?"

"Exactly."

She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…

"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."

She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.

If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one.

"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"

"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"

"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."

She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in.

He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.

What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs.

This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him.

"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.

"...What?"

He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.

"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.

"What do you mean.”

She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.

"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."

He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.

"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."

Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.

So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…

And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy.

But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…

"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"

"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."

"Well, neither am I."

He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.

"No one is."

"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes.

"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."

"Liebling…"

"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"

"Of course."

She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets.

He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his.

Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…

And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise.

He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.

But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.

"Are you still afraid?"

He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness.

"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #yandere könig #tw: dark content #könig smut

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aeshiiteiru · 11 months

Note

soo could you write about dazai, chuuya and tecchou's red green and beige flags?

…My Flags?

— Their green, red and beige flags ft. O.Dazai, N. Chuuya, S. Tetchou

— Warnings & Notes

sfw | Mix

|| thx for the request, made me have an unwanted reality check lmao

|| kinda angsty but also fluffy and funny, those are based on my own thoughts and opinions!

m.list | writing rules

— Dazai

The green flags

He tries his best to be a good boyfriend. Of course it takes time and effort, but he really tries to give his all for you and you notice it (most of the time). He just tries his best for you (even though he has his moments)

He showers you with compliments. He wants you to know what he feels for you every step of the way. Some compliments are actually just so ridiculous it’s funny

“Mh, ‘bella! You’re so beautiful I would definitely steal your photos, make a fake account, and impress other people online!”

“That’s, uh….creepy but cute, thank you love…”

Conversation with him are never boring! He will find thousands of stupid topics just to talk to you about them! He wants to hear you laugh and see you smile as you state your opinions on all these weird things. (He probably doesn’t want to do his work smh)

The red flags

He tends to gaslight you…a lot. Mostly about that you’re just paranoid that he gaslights you. He doesn’t do it on purpose most of the time, it’s just how he is.

Unfortunately he still flirts with other women. He isn’t cheating, but the sweet words and looks still happen sometimes. He does it unintentionally, but it’s there, it happens. He says he tries to get rid of these habits, but you’re doubtful.

Dazai runs away from his problems. Always. Whenever there is a conflict between you two he tries to brush it off and act like everything is okey. That is until he notices you’re genuinely upset with him, then he just leaves. He leaves and returns after a few hours or days of no contact and acts like nothing happened again.

The beige flags

When he notices that he accidentally made you cry, he will jump on top of you to aggressively suck the tears off your face like some human vacuum in order to make you laugh and feel better. It’s ridiculous but it works.

Whenever you ask him what he wants to eat he always, always replies with “you” or “nothing”. No in-between, no specifics. It was funny at first, but at some point you just started to sigh and shake your head at it.

He keeps his undies that have holes in them so that he can surprise you by walking out the bathroom and tearing them off his body only leaving the waist band. He calls it the “grand reveal”. Always whenever you least expect it. Makes you question many things.

— Chuuya

The green flags

He notices the little things. You have a sparkle in your eyes whenever you see a flower you like? Expect a bouquet of these flowers on the table the next day. You pick out a vegetable from your food because you don’t like it? He noticed, and he made sure that that vegetable never appears in your house ever again.

Yeah so he is always trying to impress you with things. He often makes a fool out of himself because of it, but it brings a smile to your face so you let him do his thing.

Chuuya loves to gossip about people with you. You know the second he says “you won’t believe what happened.” Means you’re in for the hottest, spiciest tea spill in history. His gossip is always so juicy it leaves you gasping with every sentence. You love how he trusts only you with it.

The red flags

The way he expresses his anger makes you feel unsafe sometimes. You never know when he will accidentally harm you during one of his anger outbursts. It’s very worrisome to you and actually him too.

He is an alcoholic already a separate red flag, so stuff happens when he is wasted (which is often). Chuuya often tells you hurtful things during that time. It’s things he would never, ever allow to leave his mouth while sober, but we all know drunk Chuuya is not your Chuuya anymore.

Always needs to know where you are and what you’re doing. He is very, very controlling. Is it because he is worried? Possessive? Obsessive?? No one knows. But he is, and it’s suffocating sometimes. You basically have no privacy. (It’s probably because he has trust issues that you’ll leave him at some point just like others ekhem Dazai )

“So, where are you going? Who will you be with?”

“….to a bar, with just some friends..?”

“Is that so? What friends? Actually, I’ll have some of my men go with you to be sure you’ll be fine.”

“……”

The beige flags

Whenever he spills the hot tea of the day in the mafia, you’re no longer “love, dear, doll or baby” etc. No, no, that’s when you become “dawg” or “bro” and you deal with it. He is not aware of it and you never tell him. You are dawg. That’s final.

Whenever he misplaces his belongings, the first thing he does is ask you “what did you do with my (insert item)?” It doesn’t matter what it is, his phone, his hat whatever, he thinks you took it.

When you guys go to bed he scoots closer and closer over the course of the night in order to cuddle you, except he always scoots a little too much and you always end up falling off the bed, and then when you try to get him to move back a little he will complain that it’s late and you should be sleeping instead of waking him up. (He is only half awake the whole time, forgive him for being a bitch)

— Tetchou

The green flags

He respects your boundaries. When you say no, it means no, and he understands.

He never flinches when you order something no sane person would eat. That's because he also does that. (It should be a red flag that his taste in food is horrendous, but he will never judge you sooo forgiven)

He always listens to you. He might not understand a thing you're talking about, or might not get why that thing is so exciting but he will listen, and agree with everything you say to show you he is interested and is paying attention.

The red flags

Puts his job above you. You always come second. He loves you, but if the job required him to break up with you, he would without a second thought. I’m sorry, justice above all.

He is lacking in emotional intelligence. He doesn't really know how to comfort you or empathize with you which leaves you to mostly deal with the emotional distress yourself.

Sleeps with his socks on during summer. Thats all, that’s the reddest flag.

The beige flags

Whenever he's hungry and you're not he will starve himself, because he refuses to eat when you're not eating. It makes him feel bad and you don’t get why.

Whenever you ask him a question he will answer without elaboration. —

"How was work?"

"Good. As usually."

— A man of few words, but you need him to spill the details, right now.

He can't use emojis. He thinks “🙄” is someone looking up, not an eye-roll. It makes texting more difficult than it should…

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd tetchou #tetchou x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #tetchou suehiro #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #bsd flags #bsd angst #bsd crack

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schelamski · 4 months

Text

Sakusa Kiyomi in "On and about with the hq-boys"🛫

-a series of airport drabbles.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Lets go home. You´re freezing and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

You have been waiting for the msby team to arrive at the airport. For several hours you had to wait for your boyfriend Sakusa, who was a player in said volleyball team. It wasn’t even that cold in this part of the airport but you were running cold whenever you got sleepy. About to drift away in a weird sitting position you suddenly heard a lot of mumbling voices. Like the many other times you took it on yourself to pick up your boyfriend from the airport when he had away-games, you fell asleep for some good ten minutes before waking up again to go through this whole procedure another time. Today wasn’t any different and you had been napping for a few minutes when you finally heard voices. Snapping your eyes open the msby team was arriving. Infront of the others you could see your distressed boyfriend, he really hated planes. Being stuck with that many people on limited space, he wanted to be one of the first people to exit. Also, Sakusa really wanted to have you beside him again. When your eyes met you were already on your way to him, but you tried to not throw yourself at him, guessing closure wasn’t what he needed right now. However, you were surprised when he slumped himself on you, suddenly having his body wrapped around you.

“Was it that bad, huh?”

“Mhm”

“At least you’re back again, I missed you. I even vacuumed a bit earlier because I haven’t heard the sound in so long.”

“Don´t tell me that’s what you’re missing when I’m not there. I guess I´ll have to be back on track tomorrow. But first, lets go home. You´re freezing and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Kiyomi couldn’t help but think of how he felt at home as soon as he had you in his arms, but you weren’t exactly running hot right now, so there was no other option than get you in your warm bed for some undisrupted sleep.

“Okay”

It takes everything in you to mask your surprise when he takes your hand in his while walking out to get his luggage.

“And I missed you too.”

Now you cant hide your smile.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu msby #msby black jackal #airport fluff #airport romance #hq drabble #drabble

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 3 months

Text

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Prologue

I'm not super happy with this prologue but I've done my best with it :'). Also I gave God He/They pronouns. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 1227

Warnings: Uhhhh idk unless you count God as one.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

Prologue // Chapter 1 >

Prologue

Before time began, there was her.

Cælitis (Definition): The divinities who dwell within the celestial planes. (Noun)

The Universe – The Beginning

Perhaps it was a coincidence, or a mistake, or there was something far greater beyond the confines of the ever-expanding walls of the universe. They had accepted solitary, thinking they were the only one, the first, when they awoke to a dark abyss, with the veins of creation pulsating at his fingertips. This was what God thought when they reached out for the first time, light bursting from within, shooting out and collecting into a colossal sphere. A star, he had named it, and he had much fun for who knows how long, floating through the endless vacuum, using these fiery balls of fire and gas to light his way. He would make them every colour he could think of, clumping some together to form the nebulas, or shooting some off into the middle of nowhere, just for the sake of it. Sometimes, he would press atoms so close together they would form rocks of all shapes and sizes, letting them wander and float around until they began clumping together into similar spherical shapes. He even swirled some clusters of stars and rocks around, watching as they turned into disks that would spin forever – galaxies, he decided to label them as. Before long, the universe was scattered with clusters of stars, planets, and whatever else they felt like creating, some so big their size was incomprehensible, others microscopic in comparison, and the rest varying in between.

When God had decided to rest their powers for a short while, he hadn’t expected to awake to the feeling that something was off when he observed his work. A small ripple, something he wouldn’t have picked up on if he knew they were the only being currently in existence. It passed through them, and he quickly shot towards the nebula that sat in the centre of his universal domain, their birthplace, so to speak. And what he came across was something very wrong. And he finally came to the realisation that he wasn’t alone.

It looked like a cloud at first. A dark mass that swirled and flared it tendrils around frantically as it contorted in and out of itself. He wouldn’t have been able to see it if it weren’t for the carnage it had left behind, it’s pitch black silhouette a stark contrast against the flickering specks of light behind it – the broken remains of his precious stars and planets.

Though he did not fear it. They knew that if this being had come into existence, it was here for a reason.

The Goddess was a being not many creatures knew about, and God wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t want anyone to know he had an equal, someone, if aware of everything they could do, could rival him and his authority.

He was Creation, and she was Destruction. Not solely there to destroy everything, no. She was brought into existence to ensure there was change, to make sure God didn’t slow down, always keeping him on his metaphorical feet. He had welcomed change when they had first come across her, but not too much. See, he wanted things to progress, but on his terms, so when the flailing tendrils of the Goddess had parted to reveal a mass of black wings and hundreds of very curious eyes peering up at them, he immediately took them under his own wings, teaching them the timeline of the universe around them. Her naivety hadn’t flown past him, she had just come into existence after all, and at this realisation he was delighted.

Billions of years passed by under the tutelage of God, telling the Goddess that she was his creation, what was divine and what was sacrilege. She absorbed it all, enchanted by the ways of what she believed to be her ‘creator’.

At one point, Destruction was overseeing a supernova just outside the Andromeda galaxy when God had approached her, eager to show her something. Reluctant but curious, she agreed, allowing them take her to another celestial plane, gesturing his arms out wide and welcoming her to Heaven.

He introduced her to his creations, his hierarchy of the divine. From the Seraphims, all the way down to the angels. For a time the Goddess resided with them, telling them about her ways of existence, though it wasn’t always received positively. In fact, there was only one creation that was intrigued by her path of dismantlement, a chirpy seraphim named Lucifer, who would spend most of his free time following her around with wide eager eyes, asking questions a mile a minute. The Goddess would always answer truthfully, and soon enough God began to grow weary of the friendly exchange between the two.

It wasn’t long before he was dragging her back through the planes, until they came across a very colourful planet. Entering through the atmosphere, the two floated down until they arrived on top of wall that encased a very interesting sight.

For as far as the eye could see, there was desert, but within the confines of this wall was a lush paradise, filled to the brim with every possible plant. The Garden of Eden.

God revealed two creatures that he had brought into existence, their names Adam, and Lilith, and they were to create the human race. Though his idea didn’t last very long – Lucifer had trailed after the Goddess into Eden one day, going off on another one of his excitable tangents on whatever was flying through his head at the time, when he had come face to face with the cunning and evaluating eyes of Lilith.

Obviously most know what happened after that, and God had quickly created Eve, but when she and Adam both failed his expectations after Lucifer and Lilith tempted them with the apple from the tree, he soon made changes.

The Seraphim and his new wife were cast down into a new celestial plane called Hell, and God then turned to the Goddess, seething, accusing her – that she had planted those thoughts and questions into his creation’s mind. They wouldn’t hear any excuse, leaving her until near the end of Adam and Eve’s once immortal life on Earth.

When he approached her again, they said he had a new job for her, and she followed, hopeful for their friendship to be restored, though doubts began to creep into her mind when she saw what was before her.

Purgatory, he had revealed it to be, was where she would take mortal souls after their physical body expired and sort them between Heaven and Hell. Next was the Underworld, where, if a soul was displaced in either of the two afterlives, it would go there to remain for eternity, or if she decided to send it back to Earth to be reincarnated. It was her new domain, where she would reside when she wasn’t on Earth collecting new souls.

Distressed, the Goddess asked why she was to do this, but God said nothing, only explaining further on what her new purpose entailed, and she grew more and more distraught at the new path he had laid out in front of her. She was no longer to be regarded as Destruction, but instead would spend the rest of eternity to be called a new, more fitting name, one he thought described her purpose of being perfectly:

Death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Prologue // Chapter 1 >

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#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor x you #alastor x oc

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jflemings · 28 days

Note

would you minds sharing any random jessie relationship headcanons you have? you write about it so well in your fics pls let us into your brain lol

— my oddly specific gf!jessie headcanons

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

warnings: nsfw & saw

a/n: got this ask and kept it in the drafts so i could just keep adding to it when a thought popped into my head :)

if any of my headcanons inspire fics please please please tag me!!! i’d love to see your take on them <3

- took soooooooo long to ask you out because she kept psyching herself out

- spoke with such confidence that it was honestly a shock to you when she told you she was nervous

- talked about you all the time to her friends and family before they ever actually met you

- introduces you to her sister before the rest of her family (mainly bc elysse begged to meet you)

– she has tiktok only so you can send her videos and you’re the only one she follows

– she takes soooo many photos of you

loves taking embarrassing ones just so she can laugh at them later

– sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door

– is an absolute pain in the ass to go furniture shopping w because she reads everything on the label

– early bird

– not super big on pda but insists on holding your hand everywhere you go

– she doesn’t really celebrate her goals but if she knows you’re in the crowd she’ll point to wherever you’re sitting and blow you a kiss

– if you get married she gets your first initial tattooed on her inner left bicep closest to her heart

– easily embarrassed by compliments

– likes to read her book with your head in her lap

– makes the best bacon and eggs, i don’t make the rules

– if you drink coffee you can bet your ass she memorised your order the first time y’all went out for coffee

– super clingy in the mornings

– makes a playlist of songs that reminds her of you/your relationship

– very attentive gift giver, will take note of even the smallest things you say you like for future reference

– if you’re a reader she’s got your tbr in her notes app so that if she sees a book you’ve been meaning to read she can just get it for you

– likes to give and receive flowers

– a rambler, she’ll talk your ear off if she gets talking about something she really enjoys

that includes you, she talks about you to her teammates all the time

– secret avid pet name user

babe, baby, my girl, sunshine, ALL OF THEM

- blanket hog

- the two of you make a pact to learn something new by the end of the year and she chooses to learn how to play the fucking harmonica

- she gets rlly good at it tho

- picks out your outfit for game days

- loves having baths with you

doesn’t get to do it often but when she does she goes all out: bath bomb/bath salts, candles, her kindle. the whole lot

- talks during movies if she doesn’t know what’s going on

“why’d he do that” “jess i don’t know, we’re watching the same movie”

- not a big tv series watcher but will sit with you while you watch it

- loves her documentaries though

- does a really good david attenborough impression

- is ridiculously competitive when it comes to monopoly and twister

- which is funny because she’s shit at twister

- likes to be close to you at all times

if the whole couch is free she’ll still sit next to you, thigh to thigh

- doesn’t like to argue but will if she feels strongly enough about it

- she can honestly be kinda condescending in arguments without even realising it

definitely comes from her role as a leader

- she asks you multiple times through the day what you’re thinking about just because she likes to know what’s going on inside you head

- likes to do normal, everyday things with you like chores. honestly doesn’t even care that she has to vacuum the whole house, she just likes that fact that the two of you are cleaning together

- as clingy as she is she also really likes her alone time and will often take herself to a corner of the house to just mellow out, especially if she’s been around people a lot that day

- she’ll always come and find you with a smile on her face when she’s ready to though

- loves to update you on her day when she’s away. she’s been known to send you photos of anything and everything when she’s with team canada

- likes to get you lil something from every city she visits if she can

- you display all the trinkets she gets you on a shelf

- when you first started dating she’d write you letters as a way to express her emotions because she didn’t feel like she could properly communicate them directly to you

she gives them all to you on your wedding day

- she’s just so so so so in love with you

NSFW

– generally soft during sex unless she’s high off a win, pissed off or been away from you for too long

– is a switch lol

– gets pleasure from you being pleasured, she’d eat you out for hours if you let her because she likes knowing that she can get you off

- also a biiiiiiiiiiiiig fan of using a strap, absolutely loves the way you look when she bottoms out

- is surprisingly vocal in bed

- has a massive praise kink it’s literally insane

- she came untouched once bc she was fucking you w her strap and you were telling her how good she was doing

- likes when you scratch down her back but can’t let you do it often bc of the shared change room

- once went to training with a scratched up back and sam never let her live it down

- isn’t super experienced but she is observant so she figures out what you like really early on

- made it her personal mission to fuck you on every surface of your new place when the two of you moved to portland

- is a big fan of morning sex

- not a big fan of shower sex

- also is a fan of make up sex

- tries to give you as many orgasms as physically possible in one round (four is her record) (she intends to beat it)

- aftercare queen

- is pretty firm with what she does and doesn’t like and isn’t usually one to go out of her comfort zone unless the two of you have discussed it before

- refuses to hit you during sex. she’s just not comfortable with it

- doesn’t really like choking either but she does like having her hand on the base of your neck without applying any pressure

also goes absolutely feral when you do it to her

- definitely prefers to have sex in the comfort of your own home

- the two of you got caught by niamh once because jess was too loud as you ate her out

neither of you could look her in the eye for about a week afterwards and jessie endured so much teasing

- isn’t one to have drunk sex but she does like just having her hands under your bra so she can cup your breasts. she doesn’t know why, it just happens when the two of you are going to bed after a night out

- is the biggest tease in the world

- will rile you up and then pretend she has no idea what she’s doing

- has insane stamina and will go for rounds until she physically can’t

- can get really cocky during sex, especially when she knows you’re about to cum

- if she’s had a really shit day/week she likes to be overstimulated just to get all of her negative emotions out

#pegs answers #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming headcanons #jessie fleming blurb #woso #woso x reader #woso blurb #woso imagine #woso fic #woso headcanons

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ifangirlalot · 9 months

Note

I'm back in my miles Fairchild supermency (idk if I spelled that wrong) Anyways can I request a miles Fairchild x reader smut whatever you want to do with it

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ˎˊ˗ | starring miles fairchild

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!*~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:] oral (male receiving), hand play (male receiving), kinky thoughts (miles' pov)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[Name]'s POV

While Miles and I have been together for a while now, we've yet to do anything super serious. We've gotten about as close to fucking as you can get without actually getting undressed, though. See, the thing is, I'm a little intimidated by the idea of sex. I haven't ever done it before, but Miles told me that he's done it a handful of times. (He's never specified what "a handful of times" translates to with a concrete number, but taking a look at him tells me everything I need to know, really.) And while I'm not exactly thrilled about it, I can't really say I'm surprised.

The thing is, I wouldn't know how to please him. Not just with the main course, so to speak, but also in the way of appetizers. Reading smut isn't what I'd call a reliable teaching method. That's more or less just something to read when you're horny. So, I guess that's why I'm here now. In Miles' bedroom sitting in front of him, seeing him lean against the wall (because his bed is literally just a goddamn mattress for some fuckin' reason) and tastefully unhook the front button of his jeans and pulling down his fly, like he does this everyday.

Lessons start now.

Miles' POV

I don't outwardly express it, but the way [Name] is staring at my dick like it's some sort of predator she has to conquer is rather amusing to me. My pride is telling me it's because my dick is huge, but I think more likely than not it's just because she's never actually seen one up close before. I'll probably die telling myself the first one, though.

While seeing her nervous, almost terrifed face is fucking hilarious, it's not really getting me riled up. So, while she's having her quiet nervous breakdown, I let my eyes flicker to the opening in her shirt and thinking about pressing my palm against her tits. Maybe giving them a nice, hard squeeze, getting her to cry out if I'm lucky. That does the trick and pretty soon I'm at full mast and ready to get started with teaching her.

Oh what a fun little lesson this will prove to be for me.

After some quick debate, I decide maybe hand shit is where I should start. Save the best for last. "[Name], give me your hand." I urge, not waiting for her to comply and just picking it up myself. I pull it closer to my lap and wrap her tiny fingers around my shaft.

Immediately, she grips it and I have to surpress the urge to scream. Not in pleasure, but in pain. This shit fucking hurts.

"Ow- Hey, hey- Loosen it, loosen it.. that's it.. good girl.." I sigh in relief when she complies but keeps her hand in a loose circle around me. "Okay, we're gonna try jerking me off, alright?" I tell her when the breath finally reenters my system. Could have sworn my life just flashed before my eyes from that experience.

"Oh, that's easy. I read about that, I can do it!" [Name] exclaims, almost excited to try out her knowledge from books. I'm immediately cautious. From that first moment, I'm kinda scared she's gonna break my dick off. Don't think that would be good. I kinda need that.

Turns out I was right to be cautious. One second everything's fine, the next, I've died, and my dick feels like I'm fucking a succulent vacuum. And not in a good way. "Ouch-! Fuck- [Name]-! When I said 'Jerk it off' I didn't mean jerk it off my body!" This is not going at all like how I envisioned it in my head. Like at all. This lesson is so unsexy my boner keeps leaving. I have to keep giving it a couple pip-paps just to keep it up. Which in turn is making [Name] feel bad, which is also making my boner go down. Ugh, this is a nightmare.

Finally I sigh and gently move her hand. "Okay, darling. That's not working. So, instead you're going to use your mouth." When she starts moving down, I stop her by touching her shoulder. "Now before you go down and inevitably bite my cock off, listen carefully. Don't use your teeth, make sure they're just barely grazing me. And wrap one hand around the base and hold it steady. Move it in the opposite direction of your mouth so that it meets in the middle, got it?" She nods and moves down again. I hold my breath and lean back against the wall, eyes closed, half expecting to feel a sharp pain as her teeth sink into my length. But that doesn't happen. Instead, my senses are being sweetly invaded by euphoria. Her tongue is wet and warm around my dick, and her teeth are barely even noticeable. Her hand is moving the perfect speed to contrast her mouth and it feels like heaven. A wet, warm heaven. "Oh- fuuuuck-"

The sounds coming from me are foreign to me. But she's pulling them out of me faster than I can stop them. Normally I'd be embarrassed, but right now I don't have enough time to register anything that isn't pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, don't you stop-"

And then suddenly, she's doing shit that I didn't tell her about. Her mouth pulls off my cock with a soft pop and her tongue laps around me, licking, grazing, making me twitch and buck my hips. When her tongue presses against my bright red tip, my eyes roll back in their sockets and a loud groan resonates around the room. Whatever books she's been fucking reading are definitely my favorites now. Don't know who wrote them or what they're called, but goddamn do I love those books. Then, all too soon, I'm coming and it's over. It has been about two minutes. Fuck, I feel so pissed with myself. Two minutes? Fucking seriously, Miles?

I watch her, my cheeks flaming red, while she takes her time lapping up my mess like a dog under the dinner table. "So," she asks casually, licking her fingers. "When's lesson two?"

[A Note From Zee]

I'm genuinely so sorry this took so damn long- I got caught up in other things, but I hope it was at least passable.

#💭 ۫⠀IMAGINE.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚#⊹ . SMUT ۫ .#boris pavlikovsky #ziggy katz #mike wheeler #richie tozier #finn wolfhard smut #miles fairchild smut #boris pavlikovsky smut #ziggy katz smut #mike wheeler smut #richie tozier smut #mike wheeler x you #finn wolfhard x y/n #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard fluff #stranger things smut #miles fairchild x reader #miles fairchild x you

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artbyblastweave · 2 years

Text

There’s this one line in the first issue of Watchmen. This line in Rorschach’s monologue- “On Friday Night, A comedian died in New York. Nobody Cares. Nobody cares but me.” And it is such a perfect encapsulation of everything good and bad about Rorschach, and about superheroes conceptually.

Yeah, Rorschach. Nobody does care. Nobody but you cares because everyone who even lightly knew this guy in a professional or personal capacity hates him. By almost every metric you can apply the world is better off without him in it- including by the metrics you apply, Rorschach, because if you were anywhere near as objective in your dispensation of justice as you think of yourself as, you’d have broken into his penthouse and done this yourself years ago. You are very pointedly the only person in the second issue who has no direct flashback involving a formative experience with The Comedian; your investment in him in pure projection. Dare I say, Rorschach-like.

And yet. Blake’s absolute scumminess isn’t why he was killed, was it? It isn’t why the cops are soft-pedalling the case (they claim that they’re afraid of getting Rorschach involved, but I’m personally more inclined to believe that the case just seemed Weird and Hard.) Blake’s death actually is the tip of a monstrous iceberg; Rorschach is completely correct in taking the killing as seriously as he does. But he can’t claim any special insight-it’s a broken clock situation, because he takes everything that seriously. And there’s an impulse to say that’s a good thing- except the fact that he only takes everything that seriously because he’s wrapped up in an insane, self-pitying, self-righteous self-image. It is important to him, that he is the only one who cares about this, because it gives him ground to disdain everyone else who doesn’t.

But at the end of the day, no matter how you arrive at it, the concept of solving every murder- of no death going unresolved, of no murder, of anyone, going uninvestigated- is, full stop, aspirational. It is a good thing to want and a good thing to work towards. And Rorschach, for all his insanity, is actually making some degree of headway. He very pointedly immediately figures out the hidden compartment holding Blake’s costume after being in the apartment for seconds; the cops talked in circles for several minutes and didn’t pick up on the discrepancy. He blunders down false trails, he engages in completely unhelpful violence that stood absolutely no chance of advancing the case, simply because he’s inclined to violence; and he pursues the mask-killer theory above all others because it flatters his self-image, his self-importance, his self-appointed role as the last cowboy. But I suspect that Ozymandias wouldn’t have bothered feeding the fire on the Mask-killer theory if there wasn’t a risk of Rorschach eventually figuring it out what was really going on. He got closer than anyone else just by virtue of trying at all.

Rorschach is the fantasy of someone, somewhere, Being On The Case, whatever the case may be; however tempting it may be to ignore The Case. Someone who cares, someone who’ll fight tooth and nail to get answers that absolutely should be gotten at. But he’s also the dark side of that- an examination of the kind of neurotic who would care, always, about all of it, the ways in which the caring would need to flatter and feed his ego to be sustainable, and the sheer amount of collateral damage all that caring would do to anyone the neurotic considered the cause of the problems he cares about. Here’s the price of a crusader who’ll stop at nothing- you’re stuck with a crusader who’ll stop at nothing. That is not a quality that exists in a vacuum. That is simply not the kind of nice idea you get to have, without an eye for how a person gets that way, how they stay that way, and how much damage they do.

#watchmen #watchmen analysis #rorshach #walter kovaks #thoughts #meta #comic books

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aegagrusscholarship · 3 months

Text

familiarity, the lack thereof, and the only way it could have ended.

the thing is, ultrakill is a very diegetic game. near everything, from the style meter to the bottomless arsenal to the shitass graphics themselves, are explained in some way by some in-universe fact.

so, what with violence and the implication that V1 was designed to counter earthmovers

what with 7-4 and the fact that it is a culmination of this implication

i wonder. when V1 looked up at that earthmover, did it know, with whatever passes for instinct in a machine, exactly what to do? and if it did, then, how is this conveyed to the player?

diegetic as the game is, how does it engineer a situation in which the player, themselves, knows exactly what they have to do?

the biggest factor, i think, is the fact that the earthmover's health bar appears the moment you lay eyes (or camera, or whatever) on it, and it does not leave until you have finally killed this colossus.

but this factor is much more subtle than it appears at first glance. yes, big honkin' boss healthbar on screen for the entire level, what more to it. there's a good deal more, it turns out.

first off- this is the shortest leadup by far to any bossfight in the game. you slide through a single vent, and you are greeted with benjamin right out in the open. even P-1, devoid of any other hazards as it is, gives you a long trek down the spinal staircase before you reach the flesh prison. 7-4 has none of it. you enter the level, you enter the stage, and there you have it. you know exactly what you are up against right from the outset, and it's not quite a feeling of familiarity but it tells you exactly what you have to do. which is the point of this all, isn't it?

7-4 is also... not a bossfight! it is a full level! it is a full level framed as a bossfight. the health bar frames this full complete level as a bossfight.

and on one hand, this is not new news. on the other hand, i think this is the crux of it. the thing is, most bossfights are near-to-entirely new. you do not know how the boss acts. you do not know their attack patterns. you do not know their capabilities. you are learning something new. levels, though, you have done a thousand times over and so the player knows how they need to play through this bossfight in a way that is not quite present with any other boss in the game.

the content of the level is new, of course, because that's how it goes. but you know the motions. you have done this for two acts prior, you know the motions. you know exactly what to do.

also! this level does not exist in a vacuum. what i am saying is this: the rest of violence layer shifts its storytelling and its tone and even its graphics. it is something completely new in contrast to the rest of the game. 7-4, though, returns to environments and graphics more akin to what you have experienced before, bringing you back to familiarity and again knowing what to do here in a way the rest of violence hasn't let the player experience.

one more thing about this level: it plays directly into expectations. which is something that the rest of the game actually does not tend to do.

the game, at base, is just not a typical FPS. it gives you movement like a roguelite or a platformer, it takes guns you expect to know the mechanics of and goes utterly wild with how far the archetype can be changed.

in a smaller scope, here is a comparison of the earthmover and the corpse of king minos as two separate colossal bosses foreshadowed in similar ways. and i mean, minos's bossfight isn't unprecedented in other works. but i think the thing that matters here is that you are not, in fact, the underdog as is the case with so many other bosses of its ilk. riven of many voices, destiny 2, similar bossfight similar scale. you are hiding from her you are a fireteam of many you are triumphing over a dragon larger than life. project gestalt, madness project nexus, you are pulling out every stop you can to take down something so far over your head (both literally and metaphorically). corpse of king minos- V1 looks up, stands its ground, and parries his god damn fist.

and the thing is, the earthmover plays into a different expectation, but it's playing into an expectation nonetheless. you look at this thing and you climb it and you dismantle it from within, like you have done in many games prior. you know what your goal is from the moment you see that healthbar and you hook onto the conspicuously placed hookpoints that tell you- you will climb this machine; you will fight your way up to whatever its core is and you will kill it. you play through the entire level with this expectation and you get exactly this expectation. you destroy its core and it begins a countdown, and so very many games have countdowns before the collapse of whatever level you have just beaten, and you know exactly what you have to do.

i don't know. i love diegetic storytelling. i love this level.

it's just familiarity, i think. this level runs off familiarity. it gives you, the player, things and tropes and designs you are familiar with. it signals to you that you should know what to do, and it lets you do exactly what you expect to do.

if i were any more cheesy i could absolutely end this by restating something about the only way it could've ended, but uh. i am not that cheesy. this time.

aw crud now i don't know how to end this oh well goodbye then

#ultrakill #ultrakill spoilers #idk dude i just saw someone say like. 'when v1 saw the earthmover do you think it knew what to do in a way itd never experienced before'#and i was like 'hmmmm ultrakill is a game that justifies a LOT of its story decisions in gameplay'#'i sure wonder how this one mighta been conveyed to the player'#and then i experienced a category 5 autism event in one of my friends' dms. thanks pory youre a real one #for listening to my giant fucking ramble while i was walkin down from the train station LMFAO #......also fuck i hope no one has written this before i amso sorry if i am just rehashing someone elses already written thoughts fffffuck.

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝔂 (Intro)

Jewels, Money, Shiny things- stuff he's been collecting before he stumbled upon you. Now the only thing he's greedy for is you.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Cat Hybrid!Reader, Major fluff!, suggestive themes & heavy flirting, Primal themes (biting, grooming aka he licks her neck lol, scenting, manhandling), size difference because come on this is my content and you know my kinks by now don't act surprised

Additional Content: none yet

Masterlist: to be added

⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰⋱⋰ ⋱

Jungkook is humming to himself in a good mood as he cuts open a cardboard box delivered, knife cutting through the tape holding everything safely together.

Almost instantly you're in the room with him as well, ducking under one of his arms to catch a glimpse of what he's gotten delivered. "Hey- I've got a knife here, careful." He chuckles, gently pushing you a bit so you sit a bit further away as he pulls out the plastic wrapped item. "Oh, nice! I was worried it might be a little too small.." He mumbles more so to himself as he opens the vacuum packed item, fluffing it up as you watch with wide open eyes.

"You bought it!" You tell him, amazed, and he grins, opening another sealed back that contains a fitting pillow for the human-sized pet bed he'd bought for you. It was a little on the more expensive side for him- but to see your eyes sparkle like that, and watch you grab and drag is towards a sunny spot near his windows is enough of a reward for it.

It's something that you never really experienced prior to living with Jungkook. He's offering you more than just a home, or basic care- he offers love, a feeling of belonging, comfort and a sense of security.

His kind is, on earth, often times compared to dragons for their heavy and alligator-like tails and uniquely diamond-shaped pupils, but mostly for their behavior of collecting things. Food, money, candy- some even collect blankets or pillows or plants, there's nothing one won't attempt to hoard more of if it brings them joy or happiness. Jungkook himself is pretty tame for a Xiro- he only really hoards food and snacks at home, but has started to become rather fond of spoiling you instead of himself. He's got a whole collection of hybrid stuff- medications, supplements, snacks, collars and toys- it's all there, even emergency medical stuff, just in case, because you never know.

He's not only your owner after all, but your mate- lifelong companion, your protector and lover, and he won't ever give you a reason to complain about that fact.

He folds the cardboard box together to throw away later, before he walks over to you, playfully manhandling you around to lay in the, for him way too small, bed with you on top of him. "I might have to put it away again if you lay in it more than you want to be with me.." He chuckles, though you know there's a hint of truth in his joke.

Jungkook is awfully possessive when it comes to you and your attention.

"No, I'll always like you most." You purr quietly, and he offers a happy sounding growl before he closes his eyes, basking in the sun shining onto his body with you. "Nap time?" You ask, and he chuckles, nodding.

"Nap time."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your favorite way of cuddling has become to sleep almost on top of Jungkook.

He's warm, like the sun, and strong enough not to be fazed at all by your added weight on top of his chest either. It also reassures you during sleep that he's still there, and that you're not alone.

Jungkook himself loves it too.

He knows it's sometimes tough to adapt your body to his nocturnal sleep schedule- but very amusingly to him, you're totally capable of sleeping anywhere he takes you as long as he's in reach. It's made it very easy for him to take you to work for example- his job being what brought him to you in the first place, though tonight he's simply offering company to his friends at the small restaurant one of them owns.

It's then that a couple of police officers walk in, clearly not there for simple food.

"Sir- can I check your papers for her please?" A more elderly guy in official uniform asks Jungkook, looking at you who's currently sleeping rolled up in a blanket-burrito on one of the nearby chairs close to Jungkook. It's common for law enforcement to check ID's of hybrids these days, since a lot of them are illegally trafficked on to his planet, cases rising rapidly for reasons no one's entirely sure of yet. It's a little sad to him how earth and humans seem to try and 'get rid' of your kind so shamelessly- but he's no politician, nor does he want to really involve himself into this mess at all.

He's got you, and that's all that matters.

"Sure." He says, used to the procedure as he moves to grab his bag to fetch his wallet. "I only got her identification card with me though, I hope that's alright." He mumbles, pulling out the card in question before he gets out his own, already aware that that's gonna be asked next.

"That should be fine. Just gotta match up the ID tattoo on her to make sure if you don't mind." The officer says, and Jungkook nods.

"Yeah sure." He offers, moving towards you to carefully run a hand over your shoulder first as to not startle you on accident. "It's right here." Jungkook shows the inside of your ear, the officer matching it up by sight with what's written on your ID card, before he nods and gives him back his items.

"Thanks. It's just a routine thing- cases have been popping up left and right these days.." The man sighs, writing something down in a booklet. "Her medical records all up to date?" He questions, and Jimin nods.

"She's scheduled for tomorrow for her yearly vaccinations. They're expiring in two months I think, but we wanna travel soon so I wanted to get it done sooner rather than later." Jungkook chats, and the officer nods.

"Very good. If only everyone was like this.." the man sighs, watching as his coworker seems to argue a bit with a young man and his own hybrid next to him. "I won't bother you any further. Have a nice night." He offers, before leaving to aid his colleague in the argument he's involved in.

You move around a little, wiggling closer to his chair as he sits down again, both Jin and Taehyung emerging from the kitchen, sitting down. "Man, humans are a struggle.." Seokjin sighs, leaning his head on his hand. "Why can't they be nocturnal? I've been working all day, no breaks!" He whines, and you wiggle out your arm to reach out and pat the older man's head. He looks at you with squinted eyes at that, an action that years prior would've scared you-

But Xiro people are gentle giants, you've come to learn.

"Hah, if Jungkook wasn't written on all the documents I'd steal you right away." He complains, and Taehyung laughs at Jungkooks playfully angry face, his tail swiping from left to right.

"You keep your grabbing claws to yourself old hag." He insults the oldest at the table, who's mouth gapes open at the audacity of the youngest.

"How could you!" He scolds. "Younglings these days, wear a sleeve full of ink and think they're free to do whatever!" He shakes his head, making you giggle.

You love the carefree banter Jungkook has with his friends.

You love hanging out with them, their friendship something not commonly seen on earth anymore since the collapse. People aren't really too warm anymore on earth, rather concerned with finding a new villain to blame for everything wrong every day it seems like. So in a way, you're glad Jungkook chose to take you with him back when he volunteered to help give Hybrids back on earth their identification tattooed. It was a form of social work, a publicity thing created to familiarize humans with the Xiro people and their planet. It worked.. mildly successful.

Though it was a win in the lottery for you.

"I should probably head home, she needs to sleep in a proper bed." Jungkook says after a moment, and Seokjin nods.

"Hah, I always forget they sleep during the night. You could just leave her here though-" He offers, though he receives a glare from the younger alien.

"Absolutely not. Get your own, old man." He scoffs playfully, getting up to put on your coat for you. It's pretty windy on his planet tonight, so he's learned to bundle you up to prevent you from getting cold.

"Pah, I just might! Stupid kid." He growls, shaking his head. "Here, take those though. Poor thing is probably living off of nothing but pre-made meals." He gives you the bag full of boxes filled with what he knows are your favorite foods.

"I cook for her, thank you." Jungkook rolls his eyes, before he properly says his goodbyes, your hand in his as you walk home in the lowering suns of his planet.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You remember how you'd met him.

He was intimidating to say the least- ink underneath his skin swirling around slightly, eyes sharp and piercings glimmering in the lights around him. His tall statue and rather muscular physique definitely didn't help his case either- so it shouldn't have been surprising to him how you'd glare at him as if ready to strike if he'd attempt to harm you.

"You're cute, really, but you gotta show me that pretty ear of yours." He'd chuckled softly, head tilted innocently and his smile almost docile.

A careworker wants to scold you, reaches out- but the man who's name tag read 'JUNGKOOK', holds out his hand in a silent demand to let him handle it himself.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" He'd asked, and your ears had slowly relaxed, surprise having caught you off guard. No one's ever asked you a question like that prior to him- you didn't know what to answer to that. "Hm?" He'd pressed softly, and you'd shrugged, looking around nervously. "Thats a pretty tail you have there. My kind has them too." He'd smiled, a grin more akin to a rabbit than the dragons his kind gets compared to, heavy alligator-like tail swaying behind him as if to show it off.

"...is it heavy?" You'd asked bluntly, and He'd laughed, shaking his head.

"Not really no. I guess because I grew up with it, I never really thought about that." He'd told you, casually readying his tattooing equipment while talking to you. "But as a child, my mothers would tell me how I'd always cause trouble with it. I'd empty any table low enough for it to reach!" He'd giggled, and you'd smiled at the thought of the younger version of him knocking down items from tables and shelves, too clumsy yet to quite think about it all.

"I burned mine on a candle once." You'd meekly told him, petting your own tail in search for comfort as you remembered the memory. He must have bright and colorful memories of his childhood- while you barely have anything worth keeping in mind, you'd thought to yourself.

"Well, you better make sure you don't get it hurt again, little thing!" He'd simply offered, before his surprisingly gentle hands had rubbed some numbing cream on the inside of your ear. "Or... maybe I could?" He'd asked, and at that, your ears had fully turned towards him, and made him smile. "Ah, adorable, really!"

"You'd.. take me in?" You'd asked, and He'd shrugged.

"I wasn't planning on bringing an earth-hybrid home-" He'd smiled, before the tattoo gun had buzzed to life. "But looking at you, I feel like I've found what I didn't even search for."

And today, the tattoo on your ear isn't just a Number.

It's also a memory, forever cherished by the both of you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There's a low rumbling sound in his chest as he holds you close to himself, nosing along the crook of your neck.

It sounds awfully like those CGI-Dinosaurs in movies back on earth- and you know he's just as dangerous as the directors of these sci-fi movies intended their creatures to be. His heavy, snake-like tail has you wrapped securely to himself on his lap, hands free to roam over your body as if he needs to re-paint your image back into his mind using only his fingers and palms. His tongue traces over your skin, marking you, seemingly on a mission to find the perfect spot, before his teeth bite the skin, leaving his mark on yoir body amongst so many others, chuckling when you begin to squirm a little at his actions, your soft cat tail a stark contrast to his own.

You're like the prey in the python's grip- but this predator has chosen to feast on you in different ways.

"Hm.. are you happy, little thing?" He asks you, and you nod, leaning into him, your soft cat ears brushing against his cheek as you purr- a sound he's learned earth's cats make when they feel good, making him smile. "I'm glad." He offers, laying down with you as his tail curls around the both of your bodies, warm orange glow from outside his home bleeding in and bathing you both in shades of gold. It doesn't matter though how warm the suns on his planet shines-

Your favorite sunspot will always be him.

"I love you." He says, chuckles right after it. "Thays how you say it on earth, right?" He wonders, and you turn a bit, looking at him.

"Depends." You say, chin on his chest while his hand runs over your head, coming to rest on your lower back where your tail is just about to begin. "What do you wanna say?" You ask, and he hums as he thinks.

"I asked Seokjin if he knew an earth-expression for deep emotional care and longing. A word or sentence to make sure your mate knows how much you want to stay close to them, both physically and any other way." He says, and you blush, turning your head to the side on his chest.

"Hm, guess that's love, yeah." You nod. "How do you say it here?" You wonder, and he smiles, hand running up and down your back.

"I commit my life to you." He says softly, hand still before you look up at him. "Thats what we say here- and that's what I say to you." He mumbles, and you can't help but stare for a good moment.

Jungkook and you have been intimate before. You've told each other that you deeply care, that you're mates, that you're in a relationship. But it's the first time you ever talk about love, about something so meaningful as.. well, this. And hearing it from him in such honesty makes your heart race like never before.

"Dont just stare, little thing. Kiss me!" He playfully growls, pulling you up and closer to press his lips against yours, laughing along with you as you roll around in the sheets, getting lost in love and happiness together.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Humans would look at you both in absolute confusion if they saw you like this, you think to yourself.

Freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, you're halfway laying on the fluffy carpet on the floor, and also somewhat in Jungkook's lap. Well- your butt is in his lap, legs and upper body not- but he's positioned you like this himself, and you've got snacks and TV, so you don't complain.

He's humming the tune of the commercial playing to himself as he brushes out your tail with gentle strokes of the specially designed hybrid brush- your eyes growing heavy with tiredness after the things you've been up to not even an hour prior. Your neck and thighs still sting a little faintly from his lovebites he leaves every time you both make love. You don't mind them though, not one bit.

"Will you be okay later?" He asks, referring to when he'll put you to bed, while he'll go to work later. Jungkook would love to have you sleep close to him at all times- but sometimes, like today, he just forgets that you're not nocturnal like he is, and while you've adjusted somewhat to that, he should've saved up his physical acts of loving you for after he's done working, considering how much be tends to tire you out with that. He teases you a lot about that, but its also another endearing thing to him.

You never complain about anything. You adapt freely to his way of living- so he's doing the best he can to make it all as easy for you as he can.

You nod at his question, yawning as if reminded of your exhaustion, and he chuckles, hand smacking your butt playfully, causing you to whine in complaint- the skin still a little tender from earlier. "Sorry." He says- but you know he's not.

You stretch and turn on his lap, and he smiles watching you, hand running over your exposed stomach, before he leans in to kiss one of his bites at your neck. "Hm I don't wanna leave you here.." he complains a little, moving around to pull you properly on his thighs, though you just hug him, head leaning against his shoulder. "And you're freshly marked up too. Won't have to worry one bit about someone trying to steal you away from me " He purrs, and you just shrug, clinging onto him. "We could take the round bed I bought with us to my studio. Hm? You could always sleep there then, when I'm working." He offers, and you nod after a moment.

He laughs, before he gets up, puts you on the sofa for a moment to get everything ready for his plan. It's a great idea- that way, you'll be comfortable just like at home, and he'll have you close and won't have to worry about you.

When he later comes to work with both you and the round pet bed in a bag, his coworker just shakes his head with a slight smile, already used to the younger alien's actions from years of experience. You easily fall asleep under blankets he places over you after setting up the bed in the corner you choose for yourself, and he already knows he feels a lot better like this, knowing he'll be able to look after you more properly this way.

When his first client comes in, Jungkook explains that you're his- that you're his mate, not just a companion or pet as humans call it, and the young man is understanding.

"I've been visiting the carecenter in the capital." The man named Jimin says, as Jungkook puts down the tracing paper on his back. "I'm worried though- online research made it seem as if Algol isn't a good environment for them.." he mumbles, and Jungkook shrugs.

"She's perfectly healthy, and has been living here for more than two full cycles. Yeah, their circadian rhythm can sometimes make things a bit tricky, but I've gotten used to handling it whenever necessary." He explains, making sure to do his work properly. "You'll have to really study what they can and can't eat though. A lot of vegetables we eat here are poisonous to them, and some of them can't digest dairy well." He offers.

Jimin sighs. "That sounds intimidating." He huffs almost disappointed, watching you roll over in your sleep, tail limp as you're out like a light. "But they seem like such good company."

"They are." Jungkook agrees. "She's probably the best fitting mate I could've ever found." The artist shrugs, beginning to tattoo.

"I mean, they did mention in research that earth-hybrids and Xiro people are surprisingly very compatible, even in genetics." He informs the younger alien. "Have you heard of the couple that recently became parents? And the child is perfectly healthy too."

"Hmhm, I've heard." He nods. "Maybe it'll help our declining birth rates, at least a little."

"Have you thought about having one with her?" Jimin asks, and Jungkook nods.

"One day, probably. We both want that. But not right now. There's no rush." He says as he follows the lines he'd prepared on the skin of the older man.

"Understandable." Jimin nods.

And Jungkook doesn't stop softly smiling as he works, and thinks about your future together.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #hybrid reader #hybrid imagine #hybrid au #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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malusokay · 2 years

Text

Summer Glow-Up Guide

Summer vacations have started for most people, meaning it's the perfect time to start working on yourself, adopt new habits and improve your health. You guys asked me for a glow-up guide, so here we go! <3

Eating healthier, let's be real; we all know that the first step to a healthy glow a healthy diet is. Try adding some smoothies, proteins (like yogurt, chicken, tofu...), and healthy fats (avocados, nuts...) to your meals.

Skincare. Now is the perfect time to try some new products! My favorite brands are The Ordinary, La Roche Posay, Pixi, Lancome, and Neutrogena.

Meditation, 5-10 minutes in the morning, is enough; it helps you to focus, calm down and be mindful. You can find guided meditation videos on youtube.

New Hairstyle, get a new haircut, and try some new styles! (inspo on my Pinterest)

Journaling, I started journaling not too long ago and love it! It helps me plan my day and get things out of my mind.

Haircare, get a trim, and say bye to your split ends! you can also try some new products; I personally like Lush and Olaplex. (let me know if you want a long hair guide <3)

Practice your make-up skills! Something that helped me improve was practicing right before I shower, so I can just wash it off!

Deep cleaning room, vacuum, clean your windows, empty your trash, and so on...

Get a manicure, I'm personally a long acrylics type of girl, but even if that's not your thing, a simple manicure makes a HUGE difference. Clean nails are a must!!

Drinking more, I probably don't have to tell you that, lol.

Self-tan contour, not having to wear make-up is such a flex so let's just fake that make-up-less beauty by contouring with self-tanner ;)

New outfits that fit, it's time to get some new stuff that makes you feel beautiful and confident!

Exercising and getting toned feels awesome! try some youtube workouts; my favorites are from Daisy Keech, she's so sweet <3

New jewelry, get some cute signature pieces; you can also look for some unique pieces while on vacation and keep them as memories.

Fresh Instagram feed, go and takes some pictures! You can look for inspiration on my Pinterest; I have a board called 'Pictures to recreate' that might be helpful!

Find a signature scent; this is something fun you can do with your friends! Go to Sephora and just try perfumes until you find one that fits you.

Sleep schedule, even though it's tempting to stay up late, now is the perfect time to fix your sleep schedule.

Go out every day, go for a walk, listen to a podcast, take some pictures, you know it...

Read more; it really calms your mind and helps you relax.

Facemasks, I do facemasks at least twice a week

Be nicer

Down below I also listed some 'Challange Days' that you can try when you don't have anything planned and don't want to waste your day!

•┈••✦ Self-care-day ✦••┈•

meditate + exercise

bubble bath

exfoliate

shave (if you like)

hair care

skincare (morning + evening)

try the self-tan contour

get your nails done

lotion

healthy meals

don't skip breakfast (My favorite meal!)

read Something

call a friend

go on a walk + listen to music or a podcast

track your water intake

go to sleep early

•┈••✦ Deep clean day ✦••┈•

throw away everything that doesn't fit you anymore

throw away old makeup (IT CAN EXPIRE)

change your bed sheets

vacuumed the floor

clean your windows

clean every surface

empty your trash

re-organize your closet

do your laundry

clean all your shoes

delete all the apps you don't use

clean your camera roll

get a carpet cleaner and clean your carpets

wash all your pillowcases

As always, please feel free to add more suggestions and ideas in the comment section! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

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johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend · 6 days

Note

HAMZAH BF HCS HAMZAH BF HCS HAMZAH BF HCSSSSS🙏🙏🙏

hamzahthefantastic bf headcannons sfw+nsfw

—————————————

-sfw

-you guys are long distance at first and he would always facetime you telling you how much he misses you and how pretty you are

-he would put his facetime with you to the side while he plays video games and you occasionally join him

-you were planning to move out anyway so when you visit him in canada, you decide to stay

-he drives to pick you up at the airport and the first thing he does is hug you and take in your perfume

“i missed you so much, you smell so good”

-sharing an apartment with hamzah is easy and boy is this man needy

-he has to be by your side all the time, also because he hasn’t seen you

-as soon as you lay on the couch he is getting his head between your thighs while he watches videos on his phone

“baby give me a head massage pleasee?”

-you will play with his hair while he gives you kisses on the inside of your thighs

-he loves giving you hugs from behind dont ask me why

-always playing video games together ESPECIALLY fortnite and overwatch

-if you ever get too full after eating he will vacuum that shit up

-always makes time for you and loves cuddling when theres nothing to do

-calls you baby or babe all of the time and gets you matching satire funny shirts when you go shopping

-nsfw

-loves touching your ass

-he will slurp up your pussy like tomorrow doesn’t exist and try to suck the soul out of you

-not a big fan of receiving hickeys but gives them to you when he feels like it

-favorite position is wherever he can see your face and how much he messes you up

-loves every part of you: boobs ass thighs everything that man is golden

-he will forcefully push you down onto his face and keep you there

-literally always DTF

-a good 6-7 inches in my opinion which leaves you choking on his dick sometimes

“cmon baby you can take it”

-will take however much time you need to adjust because he loves you so much

-always kissing you during sex and mostly holds your hands to keep you in place while he fucks you

-LOVES when he lifts one of your legs up on his shoulder to get even deeper inside you

“fuck you like that huh?”

-most of the times are passionate but he can fuck you roughh and only does quickies if you guys have somewhere to be later

-loves watching his cum drip out of you or on your boobs

-loves giving you praises and when you talk dirty to him

“such a good fucking girl for me”

-tries to holds his moans in but eventually gives up halfway through and LOVES hearing how good he makes you feel

-teases you with the tip all the damn time

————————————————————————

THANKS FOR REQUESTING give me more now

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahsmut #hamzah x reader smut #slushy noobz

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shubblelive · 10 months

Text

— BLOWN IT

summary : so desperate to make wilbur’s first night at your apartment perfect, you take any hiccups as a sign of failure. too bad wilbur’s more than content just the way things are.

genre : fluff (angst if you squint really hard like, it's BARELY there i promise)

warnings : reader is described to be physically smaller than wilbur, reader has a tiny anxiety moment but they're okay

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

pronouns : they/them

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : @mysticalsoot domestic sweet fic about all the first small moments reader

word count : 911

note : connor my love!! i couldn’t fit everything you asked into one fic in a way that i liked, but i hope you like this!! my wifi was down for maintenance so this took me a second because i’d rather die than write on my phone but i hope the wait is alright <333 mwah (also if you haven’t you need to go check out connor @mysticalsoot his boarding school au is so wonderful and he’s so lovely)

your bathroom lightbulb blew last week. you hadn't had the chance to replace it, and the second you left the bathroom it would disappear from your mind. you'd swear under your breath at night when you'd go in there to brush your teeth and wash your face, but other than that it never crossed your mind.

your house had been extensively cleaned, from the welcome mat being shaken out over your balcony (with a yelled apology to peter, the elderly man who lived below you), to the sections in between your couch cusions being vacuumed, and still you didn't remember the damn light globe until wilbur called out to you. "darling? your bulb's blown."

damn. you kept forgetting about it and now all that effort of making sure everything was perfect for the first time your boyfriend stayed over was out the window and onto peter's balcony along with month's worth of dust from your welcome mat.

"want me to run out and grab a new one?" you were sitting at the kitchen counter, working on your laptop, with wilbur ducking out of the bathroom to place a kiss on your head.

"no, no. you're alright, i'll go. you hang here and you can have your shower in just a sec." you stood up, wilbur's hand on your shoulder. you went to press your lips to his jaw as a quick goodbe, but his eyebrows furrowed.

"woah, woah, woah," he placed his other hand on your other shoulder. "why're you in such a rush? do i smell that bad?" he chuckled self-depricatingly, using his thumb to stroke the skin over your top.

you giggled, looking up at him. he had a stray curl hanging over his forehead, glasses perched on the top of his hair in anticipation for the shower he was about to take. "maybe just a little."

wilbur gasped, mock offended. "wow, i was going to ask my lovely partner if they'd come with me to buy a lightbulb for their bathroom and they made fun of me." he moved his hand to your side, trying to poke you.

"okay, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "will you come with me to the store?"

you watched as he pretended to consider your offer. your heart swelled up watching his over-dramatised thinking; index finger scratching on his chin, humming and ha-ing. "i guess i'll come with you, because i love you so very very much." a kiss was pressed to your nose before you even registered, wilbur grabbing your hand gently.

he, very graciously, let you drive to the shops, his hand wrapped around yours the entire time. it was nearing closing time, so the store was mostly empty. he’d typed out a little list on his phone on the way there, noting that you were running out of eggs, which were a key ingredient in the breakfast he was planning on making you as a thank you.

he dragged you around the store, his hand wrapped securely around yours. the low flickering light wasn’t doing you any favours you were certain, but it showed every hollow of wilbur’s face, completely enthralling you and stopping you from notice that wilbur had payed for your groceries and had now reached your car.

“you okay, lovely?” he asked, worried at your quietness. you nodded, sure of yourself, and his face softened. “what’s goin’ on?”

you took a somewhat shaky breath in before speaking. “i just wanted everything tonight to go smoothly. i wanted you to have as nice of a time at my house as i did at yours, i guess? it’s dumb.”

wilbur’s eyebrows shot up towards his abyss of curly hair hanging over his forehead. “that’s it?” you worried for a second that he had confirmed your anxieties. it was dumb. but you looked up at the man above you, his thumbs ghosting over both of your knuckles, small smile on his face pouring affection. “oh, lovely. i’ve been having the best time,” he said it so sincerely that you had no choice but to believe every word he said.

“i know it wasn’t what you expected we’d do,” you answered honestly. “still, i’m sorry.”

wilbur laughed. “i expected that i’d get to spend time with you. what are we doing right now?” he didn’t give you the chance to reply, instead speaking up again. “there’s only one thing i’d want do to,” his smile was so soft and earnest that you expected the kiss he went to plant on your lips. you were sorely mistaken, unfortunately, as he disconnected your hands and turned towards the shopping trolley. the two of you were almost alone in the carpark, which gave wilbur a lot of room to give the trolley a running start before jumping, lifting his feet off the ground and using the momentum to glide roughly across the gravel. he did that a few more times until he reached the trolley bay, you laughing in bemusement by the boot of your car. “all done!”

you gave him an exaggerated thumbs up, unable to stop the beaming smile on your face at the sight of him, and he started sprinting at full speed across the carpark towards you. he didn’t seem to have any intention of slowing down as he neared the car, but you refused to move, wanting him to chicken out.

he got right up in your face before he managed to stop himself, and then you got your kiss.

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 2 months

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 8

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Comet, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: After two consecutive heavy chapters of Wolffe angst, I figured it was time for something a bit lighter. So, you get more Comet and Cara! Honestly, I love their dynamic so much. It's cute and adorable, and it's my favorite. Cara doesn't view Comet as an uncle, but more like a big brother and that's how Comet feels too. Be forewarned, there are still sad undertones. I also really wanted to cut this chapter in half, but there was no good way to do it. As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Before Comet makes his way to Cara's room, he stops by the kitchen to do what Wolffe asked him. It really is a mess, but at least they were able to make Wolffe think about something else for a couple of minutes. Comet can't even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Wolffe to go through this, but on the flip-side, it's incredibly difficult for any of them to watch, especially when they know there's nothing they can do to alleviate Wolffe's or Cara's pain. It's such a tragedy.

While still in the kitchen, Comet catches a glimpse of a flower-patterned apron hanging on a hook. He approaches the garment and rubs the fabric between his fingers with fondness, remembering when he first became part of the wolfpack. He was just a shiny, hot off Kamino and assigned to the most rugged of commanders serving alongside two veteran clones, and yet, they took him in like family. She took him in like family, too, and made him his first real meal.

Comet smiles at the memory. The pack misses her too, even if they don't say it out loud. With Wolffe still raw from her passing, it's not the time nor the place for them to air their own sorrows, but they still feel it. The hole she left behind and the vacuum it created in all of their lives. She was kind, gentle, loving, and could go toe-to-toe with Wolffe like no one he's ever seen. He chuckles at a memory of Wolffe retreating with his tail between his legs after being scolded.

Realizing that he forgot about his other mission, Comet leaves the apron where it hangs and makes his way back to Cara's room. He'll have to remember to grab it before they leave. Wolffe will want to take it with him. At least, he thinks Wolffe will want to take it. If not, then he might grab it out of pure fondness. They're all aware that once they vacate the apartment, everything in it will be trashed, and the thought of that apron laying in a pile of trash makes his skin prickle.

On his way to Cara's room, Comet grabs the largest box he can find. Wolffe said one box, but he didn't say it had to be a certain size. He knows it's going to be an uphill battle to get Cara to pick and choose what she keeps, so a bigger box will make it easier. She's four, and she'll grow out of most of her things in a couple of cycles, which means he needs to guide the choosing. It may be difficult now, but she'll thank him one day when she's older. If he's alive to see her older.

As he approaches her room, he doesn't hear any noise, which makes him suspicious of what she's doing in there. Maybe all that crying and screaming wore her out and she fell asleep. If that's the case, this just became a lot more difficult. If it's one thing Comet has learned from spending time with children, it's that you never wake them from a nap. Kids are mean when they're tired and they will make you feel every ounce of their displeasure at being woken up.

Reluctantly, Comet opens the door, and to his surprise the lights are on. A quick inspection of the room shows no signs of life within the four corners, but there is a suspicious child-sized lump under a blanket in the middle of the bed. Comet sighs. Just what he was afraid of. When he steps closer, the lump moves. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side, watching the lump squirm around. She's not asleep, she's hiding. Comet smirks and decides to play along.

"Oh, no," he says dramatically. "Whatever will I do? I seem to have lost Cara."

The lump giggles and Comet smiles.

"Wolffe is going to kill me," he continues while slowly creeping towards the bed.

The lump giggles louder and Comet sneaks up real close, ready to pounce.

"I'll be decommissioned for sure," he says, then grabs the lump and hoists it up into the air.

Cara squeals.

"Found you!" he exclaims.

"No!" Cara squirms in Comet's grasp. "Put me down!"

Comet plops down onto Cara's bed, places her on his lap, and uncovers her from the blanket. "Are you hiding from me, ad'ika?" he asks.

She wiggles her little body and tries to escape from him, but his grip is firm. "No," she pouts and sticks her tongue out at him.

Comet raises a brow. "Really?"

"I don't want to," she whines.

"Ad'ika," he sighs. "I don't want to either, but sometimes we have to do things we don't like."

"What's an add-ee-ka?" she asks.

Comet knows she's stalling, but it's an easy enough question to answer. "It means child, but in a more loving way." He wanted to use the word affectionate, but she may not understand that yet.

"Why doesn't daddy call me that?" she asks.

Comet thinks for a moment, because he's wondered the same thing. He shrugs. "I don't really know why."

"Does daddy not love me?" she asks.

Comet's brain stalls. The mental leaps and bounds she just made caught him completely off guard. How could she think, even for a second, that Wolffe doesn't love her? It baffles him. Wolffe talks about her all of the time, to anyone who will listen, and even to those who won't. There's nothing he won't do for his daughter, well, except leave the army. He would if he could, in a heartbeat, but they'd track him down and decommission him without a second thought.

Comet shifts Cara on his lap so that she's facing him and gently brushes some of the curls away. "Your dad loves you very much," he says. "So much so that he can't express all of it, even if he tries. He misses you all of the time when he's out on missions and it makes him very sad to be away from you."

"Oh," she says. "Does daddy love mommy?"

"Very much," he answers. "Almost as much as he loves you."

"Then why isn't daddy sad about mommy?" she asks.

"What makes you think he's not sad?" he asks.

"Daddy doesn't cry," she says. "I cry when I'm sad."

Comet's eyes soften and he wraps his arms around her. "He does. Trust me, he does. But daddies are different from ad'ike. Daddies don't cry like you do when you're sad. They cry by themselves."

"Why?" she asks.

"Because," he begins, then pauses as he tries to figure out how to explain it. "He wants to stay strong so he can take care of you."

"Oh," she says.

"You see," he explains further. "Love isn't stored in our words or even our actions. It's stored here." He places a hand on his heart. "Inside our hearts, our ka'rta."

"Ka-ro-ta," she pronounces. "Sounds like carrot."

Comet snorts, then starts laughing. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"So, daddy loves mommy in here?" she asks while placing her hand on her heart.

"Yes, exactly," he says while tapping her nose. "And he loves you in there, too."

"I love daddy in here, too," she says. "And mommy."

"Good," he says. "You keep them in there forever, okay?"

Cara smiles. "I will."

Comet really doesn't want to change the subject or ruin the mood, but time is running short and he still has a job to do. "You know," he begins. "If we don't pack up this box, you won't be able to bring anything with you."

Cara's eyes widen and she scrambles off Comet's lap to start filling the box. She may have been stalling, but he's glad she asked those questions. The last thing Wolffe needs is for his daughter to think he doesn't love her. He would crumble into a pile of dust if he ever found out. Wolffe may not be able to spend a lot of time with Cara because of the war, but he really does love her, and Comet hopes Wolffe will continue to show her that love every chance he gets.

The packing process goes pretty much as Comet expects. Cara grabs a whole bunch of things and tosses them into the box without really thinking about it. While she rummages through her shelves and closets, Comet stealthily removes certain things from the box. If she realizes they're gone, then maybe she does want them, but if she doesn't see them missing from the box, then she probably won't miss them at all. It's a gamble, but one he's willing to take for her sake.

Comet makes sure to grab a few of the things he knows she'll actually want, like cloney, ducky, her favorite pajamas, a few bedtime stories, and the drawings she's made of her family. The drawings are easy because they're flat and can lay flush against the side of the box, so he's able to fit all of them. He knows she's going to need those when they get deployed and she's alone. Some of the toys are a bit harder, since they're bulky or oddly shaped, but he manages.

When the box is nearly full, Cara grabs the blanket off her bed and tries to stuff it in the box, but it's too big and it spills out all over the top and sides. She's had that blanket since birth, so Comet knows there's no parting with it and he needs to find a way to fit it in. He rearranges some items in the box, rolls the clothing instead of folding it, and adjusts some of the more angular things, but it still won't fit. Cara's on the verge of tears and Comet needs a new plan.

"Ad'ika," Comet says. "Would it be okay if I made your blanket into something else?"

Cara looks at him with watery eyes, and nods silently.

Comet smiles and scruffs her hair. "Don't worry. I'll fix this."

Besides learning how to cook delicious food, Comet picked up something else from Wolffe's wife. How to sew. It's an odd skill for a clone to have, but she loved to do it and he was always mesmerized by what she made. He's definitely not a master seamstress like her, but he knows his way around a needle and thread enough to be dangerous. He leaves Cara's room and grabs what he needs from the sewing closet: scissors, a needle, thread, buttons, and some stuffing.

Comet returns to Cara's room and lays out the blanket flat on the floor. He marks out the pattern with some chalk, and with Cara standing back, he cuts out the pattern. Placing that piece on more blanket, he cuts out the second piece in the same shape. With the cutting done, he places the scissors out of Cara's reach and sits on the floor to start sewing the pieces together. Cara leans over his shoulder to watch, just like she did with her mom. Comet smiles at her curiosity.

He takes his time with the stitching, because it would be of no use to her if it fell apart while he was gone and wasn't there to fix it. When he's done stitching most of the outer edge, he sews on the two button eyes, which proves to be difficult when Cara wraps her arms around his neck, practically strangling him. He readjusts her so he can breathe, then finishes sewing the buttons on. Lastly, he fills the opening with lots of stuffing, then closes the final stitches to finish the doll.

"Ta-da," he says, then hands the finished doll to her. "One tooka doll."

Cara's eyes light up and she squeezes it against her. "I love it!"

Comet smiles. "It should fit in the box now."

Cara places the doll in the box and smiles at Comet. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Comet says. "Ready to go find your dad?"

Cara nods her head and runs out of the room.

Comet shakes his head and gets up off the floor. He picks the box up and grunts. It's a little heavier than he was expecting, but he did a good job of fitting everything in there. Cara would never be able to carry it, but he can. He'd carry anything for her. He'd carry her sadness if he could. He knows Wolffe would, too. Actually, there's not a member of the wolfpack who wouldn't do anything for Cara. She's family, a part of the pack, and now also motherless, just like them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

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