#nobody can take that away from me. it's very important >:(
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So I've been Sinning because I've been making posts on Malorn and Duncan individually but I don't think I ever really touched up on how their relationship with EACH OTHER would be and that's literally the most traumatizing thing I can think of for either of them
This is like, moreso purely speculation and 🌈 imagination🌈 anyways because I don't think there's like any canon material on the two of them interacting and their arcs and backstories are as small as bacteria in the first place but literally those two on their own could have their own fucking show with how much UNTAPPED STORYLINE that can come out of "Borderline child prodigy forced into and struggling with important position" Malorn and "Troubled child with undiscussed emotional issues and a jealousy complex borne from said position" Duncan
Idk about any type of interaction or relationship these two might have had before Malistaire became the Joker, but I can imagine there's ALREADY some type of rivalry (at LEAST one sided) between two guys in the same school in the same class, one of them is blatantly better than the other at everything they do and it's not the guy who says he is. (Like, idek how Malorn himself feels about him being the best in his class, but from what we've seen he doesn't brag about, mislead, or exaggerate about it like Duncan does. And the insane thing is Malorn AT LEAST would have a BASIS on his claims and attitude even if he was being a jerk about it)
But the thing is, Malorn back then as a regular student would not have been in any position to be up close and personal with Duncan in any meaningful way during school hours. Like they're classmates, at best they get grouped on a project together, but Malorn and Duncan being together would not be required and important until AFTER Malistaire dips and Malorn is now Duncan's PROFESSOR. Now in a totally more complicated and intimate way than before, Malorn and Duncan HAVE to interact with each other, speak and work with each other because now Malorn is the new Death teacher and he has to handle the brunt of Duncan's education and progress. GIRLS YOU NEED TO READ THAT LAST PART AGAIN BECAUSE THAT IS SO IMPORTANT!!!!!!!
Malorn and Duncan literally CANNOT escape each other if they wanted to do their jobs (good, unbiased educator and student still receiving education respectively). Yeah they may not be like, personal tutor and student but Duncan is in MALORN'S class now, and just that position alone puts a type of pressure on both of them to still maintain their respective roles and civility while dealing with the person who Does Not Make You Happy on a more personal level than before. That sucks actually
Like, Duncan couldn't even lie to Malorn about how "well" he's doing in Death class when he can SEE his papers. Duncan can't hide his grades papers from his professor, Duncan is no longer able to pull the wool over Malorn's eyes like he does with EVERYONE ELSE. Duncan already had some type of issues with being second best, but imagine one of the people that was threatening Duncan's spot as first place becomes his superior. His superior that can SEE that Duncan is in fact, not the best. Duncan can't even PRETEND that Malorn isn't better than him anymore because it's been proven, when Malorn was made Professor instead of him, and Malorn himself now has an inside view of Duncan's insincerity. What little ""power"" Duncan thought he had was now ALL taken away from him
AND THEN MALORN DOESN'T HAVE IT MUCH BETTER, because here's this little shit that just seems to hate him for no reason???? Idk if Malorn ever knew about Duncan bragging about himself or his jealousy of him in general before Malistaire left, but whether or not he did before he most likely knows NOW. With his new position and him having to care for Duncan as a student rather than a peer, now suddenly Malorn is in Duncan's DIRECT line of fire and he has no wiggle room to step aside or remove himself because in order for Malorn to be a good teacher *he has to be there for Duncan*. He no longer has the luxury to just "ignore" Duncan or even put him in his place if that's what he really wanted, because now Malorn has to be a certain type of responsible and not abandon or get into fights with students that give him any issues (looking at you Malistaire and Mabrose 😒)
Yeah ofc Malorn could always discipline Duncan or smth but what's the use if this one student is just adamant on causing issues? It seems like Duncan has more of a 'hands off' type of technique when trying to get what he wants (using other people to finish his homework for him), but it's super easy to imagine Duncan just doing little or petty things to undermine Malorn's authority in any way he can. Nothing evil but just like challenging or questioning Malorn's lessons during class, mouthing off whenever he can, things that are used to blow off steam and stick it to Malorn in what little way he can definitely sounds like some shit Duncan would do. And what are you supposed to do when this kid, someone who is YOUR AGE but is still essentially supposed to be listening to YOU, is lashing out at you and disrupting class every chance he gets? Discipline him for the hundredth time?
Imagine how this grates on Malorn's nerves how on top of everything else, on top of everyone else already being jumpy and snippy around him, in addition to his entire lifestyle being turned around, even with his tutor and someone he looked up to betraying him in the worst way, even with ALL OF THAT, this *ooooooone* person decides to go out of their way to continuously punish you for it. Malorn is doing his job, what he's expected of no matter how unfair or tiring or unrewarding it may be, and he is being persecuted by someone for a job *he never even asked for*.
Malorn did not plan or hope for ANY of this to happen. Yeah being a Professor sounds cool and shit at first glance but like I've said once before Malorn at that time is still like 12 years old and the change is so absolutely sudden and jarring that Malorn couldn't have even possibly PREPARED for this situation. Whether or not Malorn is actually good at his job now does not push aside the fact that Malorn may not have even WANTED to be in that job in the first place!! We have no way of knowing if Malorn was seriously like "man I wish I was a teacher right now" at ANY point of his life, but it's safe to say he most likely DID NOT because Malorn was never flaunting or showcasing his talent to everyone like Duncan was!! Perhaps the one person who wants this THE LEAST is being unfairly judged by the person who wanted it THE MOST
AND THAT ^^^^^^^ is getting to the core of this Malorn VS. Duncan thing going on here. Two opposites, two extremes that are forced together unwillingly and they're both unnecessarily suffering for it.
And at the end, when The Wizard is trying to do shit and Duncan pops up like "aaayyyy 🤪🖕" and is defeated in 2 seconds, how does that affect them both? Does Malorn ever like, know this about Duncan? Did Duncan even graduate before he was manipulated into a literal cult?
Imagine how messed up Malorn would feel if he ever found out. Would he take it personally, even though none of it was his fault? Would he still FEEL that it was his fault, that the one person who hated him sooo much it became the catalyst to his downfall? Would Malorn feel responsible for Duncan and all the hurt he's caused and all the hurt he's felt even though he shouldn't?
And the saddest part is even if Malorn did suffer any type of way from knowing how Duncan turned out to be, his responsibilities wouldn't leave him that much time to mourn before he had to go back to work. The saddest part is that even though Duncan was told over and over that he was alone and that nobody cared for him, he had Malorn by his side the entire time more than willing to support him. Their relationship is so interesting to me because it's so tragic and multifaceted when ultimately things could have been at least moderately better if the world hadn't let them both down
#loooooooooong post#very long post#but seeing that art of them by ghostcond i was like ''THIS IS IT. THATS IT THATS EXACTLY WHAT IVE BEEN MISSING''#im actually crying for two little kids rn like LMAO#once again 90% of this never really happened between them LMAO but it could have and THATS WHATS MOST IMPORTANT#kingsisle really had a goldmine here with these two characters and theyre never connected or expanded upon#understandable because the game's not about them but im still mourning what he could have had#nobody can take this away from me. these boys are Traumatized and that is how they will be to me#im such a loser for young children being thrusted into positions of immense power all of a sudden and theres like so much of that here#morganthe. malorn. duncan. us. like bro#we're all like the sides of a weirdly four-faced coin#i just love how stories delve into people so young being screwed over with the power they dont know what to do with and how it effects them#malorn may not have become like the rest of us in terms of sheer power level but his professor status is a position of power#that he WAS NOT READY FOR#i havent slept in like 6 hours lmao so imma stop these rambling tags but ANYWAY. cry for them#wizard101#w101#wiz101#malorn ashthorn#duncan grimwater
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xiao dingquan -> 阿宝 ah bao / fang duobing -> 小宝 xiao bao + treasures of the family
#posts made for only 1-3 people :)#hlht#lhl#my posts#that's an incredibly bad cap of mama fang and fdb but i really need it from that specific scene#also papa fang did call fdb xiaobao but he was offscreen so i didn't include the cap 😔#in the same way it's very plausible gu siqing probably was the one who gave xdq his ah bao milk name#but we never saw her calling him that onscreen given her rare appearances. so.#to me milk names are very specifically smth a 长辈 senior refers to a 小辈 junior#it's a representation of the affection they have for the young one#nobody can take that away from me. it's very important >:(#the only way ah bao was used in hlht that doesn't fall under that is xdq calling lwx ah bao but as A REFLECTION OF HIMSELF.#otherwise xdq's milk name holds a very specific representation of seeing the person as a precious one of the family.#which is why xrj never called xdq by his milk name until the very last moment.#also i'm very emotional about fdb calling papa fang 'lao fang' and getting away with it ok.#do you get how loving and accommodating his family is that he gets to do that. 那不正是理想的家庭状态吗？#(on top of how it's so normal in modern context lmao)
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Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use
SkyWings
“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)
“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)
“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)
“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)
“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)
“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)
“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)
“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)
“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)
SandWings
“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)
“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)
“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)
“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)
MudWings
“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)
“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)
“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)
SeaWings
“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)
“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)
“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)
“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)
“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)
NightWings
“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)
“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)
“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)
“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)
"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)
RainWings
“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)
“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)
“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)
“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)
“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)
“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)
“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)
IceWings
“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)
“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)
“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)
“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)
“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight
“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)
HiveWings
“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)
“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)
“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)
SilkWings
“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)
“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)
“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)
LeafWings
“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)
“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)
“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)
“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)
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Hi Mr Gaiman,
Someone recently told me that Aziraphale and Crowley couldn’t be neurodivergent because they weren’t humans and technically weren’t alive. This confused me as i’ve always thought that they could be neurodivergent.
So my question got you is, can Aziraphale and Crowley be neurodivergent?
This is a popular headcanon and one that is very important to me so I would like to know if it’s actually possible for them to be neurodivergent.
Thank you in advance :)
It's your headcanon, and nobody gets to take that away from you. That's the joy of headcanon.
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Wolf. (König x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, size kink, p in v sex, rough sex, blood, wounds, stitiching, guns (let me know if I missed any.)
(Summary): König likes to admire his little sheep from afar until he has to confront his feelings. Like a wolf stalking it's prey, it has to pounce at some point.
PLEASE FORGIVE ME IF I BUTCHERED SOME OF THE GERMAN I TRIED SO HARD ;') PLEASE CORRECT ME IF IT'S WRONG.
There is this sickly sweet feeling König gets when he's around you.
His mind starts to play into it, and he fantasizes about everything he can do to you. You’re much smaller than him, obviously. He’s a beast of a man, even he knows it.
He thinks about how easy it’d be, to overpower you. Take what he wants. He just knows how small your hands would look wrapped around him, how it’d feel like he’s splitting you apart with his cock. He catches himself, sometimes. He’d be out doing work, daydreaming as he stared at you. His mask helps him sometimes, hiding the way he stared at you. Sometimes when your eyes met his, you’d look down, crimson creeping up your cheeks. He thought maybe you were scared of him. That maybe his glare intimidates you. But that’s not really the case at all.
Because everything he thought about doing to you, you’ve thought about too. Him overpowering you. Doing sinful things to you.
The few times you’ve ever interacted with him, it’s always been short and you usually end up scurrying away quickly. It hurts his feelings a little bit. Knowing that he scared you. You’re on the same side, anyways. He was too shy to talk to you, too shy to make a move on you.
You weren’t scared of him. Sure his size intimidated you just a little bit. The sheer size of him alone probably causes nightmares to some people.
But it only fueled fantasies in your brain.
You’re brand new to the military. Still training as a combat medic. You’ve done nothing but get insulted and grilled for being too soft. You didn’t have a very good start. Most of the time, when nobody was injured for you to look after, you spent it doing research in a back office. The military base you were on was massive. And there are 4 medics including you.
You’d traded shifts and got a couple days off to take a little time to yourself, or so you thought. The other medics were older women, that seemed annoyed by your presence. They only seemed to show you certain things, only when you asked. Most of the information you knew, you got by just doing hours of research. König noticed it. He noticed the way everyone just shrugged you off. And the small look of sadness you usually gave when they did made him wanna rip their heads off for hurting your feelings.
König knew there was a mission coming up. A VERY important mission.
They were reclaiming their own territory from terrorists, it was dangerous.
You sat inside of an office. Typing away at the computer, the door opening brings you away from it. It’s your commander. “There’s 1 medic on duty, 2 are resting. We need you for this mission.” He says sternly. You nod your head, body filling with nerves. You knew the basics, what to load up, your commander directed you with the rest. You sat in the back middle seat of the Humvee. Waiting. The door to your left opens and a man climbs in, sending you a smile. “Hello there sweet cheeks.” He smiles. The door to your right opening.
It’s König. His stomach falls immediately when he sees you. He knows you’re untrained, knows you shouldn’t be out here alone. Who the fuck made you come out here alone?
“First time ah?” The other man beside you breaks the silence. You nod your head.
“Thas’ alright. We’ll help guide ya. Usually you stay in the humvee unless there’s an incident. I’m sure you were taught a different way, but that’s how we like to do it, especially on missions like this.” He explains, and you nod your head. König keeps quiet. It's not how you were trained at all.
It’s about an hour later when the few Humvee’s full of soldiers come to a stop. Everyone climbs out and König knows he should say something to reassure you. But he’s too nervous, he can’t. As everyone leaves, you stay put. Not moving and keeping quiet. Waiting for anything. You watch each of the men disappear into the building. And it’s silent for a while. You notice movement to your right, but as you move to look, a loud boom rattles your brain, sending your hands to cover your ears, rubble and debris fly everywhere, the humvee turning over onto its side immediately. The back of your head crashes into the window behind you, and you have to pull yourself up. You feel water rushing down your face, worried that it might be flammable fluid from the humvee. An arm reaches over through the door, grasping onto you. You hope it’s someone to help you, but your hope diminishes when you see their unfamiliar face, along with a gun pointed at you. Your ears are still violently ringing, and you can’t hear anything he’s yelling at you, but he’s getting angrier and angrier by the minute. You're so disoriented you can't do anything but sit there.
Just when you’re sure he’s going to pull the trigger, you see a gloved hand come into your field of view, pressing a gun to his temple and pulling the trigger. His body goes limp, falling to the ground immediately, and König’s face comes into your view. You can’t tell if he’s said anything, ears still ringing from the sheer amount of noise produced by the bomb. He picks you up as if you’re weightless, moving quickly with you in his arms to get to an abandoned building, before more of them show up.
König is furious. Absolutely mad that they’d send you out here alone like this. You’re brand new, never been on a mission, and this is the mission they choose? This is an important mission, a very dangerous one at that.
He thinks about what he'll do when he gets back to the military base. He feels like he's going to lose his shit on every medic there for allowing this, your commander too. He doesn’t care the kind of trouble he gets into. Once he gets you inside, cloth over the wound on your head, he picks up his radio.
“Why are you giving this to me?” You take the cloth away from your head. “Because you have a gash on your forehead. Don’t move it.”
You listen to him, holding it there.
You thought it was water rushing down your face when in reality, it was your own blood.
“This was an ambush. Our medic is too hurt to walk, stand down.” He breathes into the radio. Voice stern and aggressive. “We’re so close already. We have to keep pushing.” They call back.
“Our ONLY medic is too hurt to offer any kind of aid. If ANYONE else gets hurt, she cannot help you.” His accent is aggressive, you can barely hear it but still hear how aggressive it is.
“That’s just a chance we’re going to have to take.”
König shakes his head, looking through the window and seeing bright bursts of gunfire. This goes on for a few more minutes.
Everything goes silent, and he’s watching. The front doors burst open and they’re carrying a soldier out. He’s bleeding profusely from somewhere, “Hurensohn.” He growls.
“I’m.. I’m okay.” You push yourself off the wall, limping towards the door. You'd been watching it all unfold. He helps you over to the front of the large building he'd already been inside. “Put- him inside.” You point to one of the two remaining humvees. They set him inside and you climb in, grasping the first aid kit. You cut open his shirt, seeing the bullet wound is right in the middle of his abdomen, which is concerning. You raise him up, still disoriented, noticing an exit wound on his back. You apply pressure as hard as you can, trying to get the blood loss to stop. Everyone loaded up and you did your best to address the wound. With an exit wound, there was most likely no bullet fragments still inside. You just needed to stop the bleeding until you could get back to the camp to flush it out.
You held the cloth on him the entire ride back, when you got back, they helped the wounded man, who you didn’t know the name of inside. König followed after you, to make sure you’re okay. “The hell happened?” One of the medic asks, seeing you’re covered in blood. König wants to yell at this woman but he can see the aggression on your face as you push past her, going to aid the other. You’re pulling the cloth off him, examining him more closely to make sure the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs. “Y/N, you need to be treated too, I can take it from here." you roll your eyes.
She grasps your arm, and you rip your arm away from her. “I got it.” You growl. She raises her hands in surrender and König has to hold back a smile. He’s seen this particular woman being mean to you more times than he can count, so to see you fire back at her brought him joy. Once this mans wounds are cleaned, dressed, and the bleeding has stopped, you back off, sitting on a chair. “Need to let her look at you now.” König mumbles. You nod your head. “She’s going to need to put stitches there, Liebes.” He taps his own forehead over the mask. You wondered why he stuck around, waiting for you. Maybe to just make sure you’re okay. You sit down on one of the cots. “König, you mind sitting with her, in case she passes out?” König nods his head, sitting down next to you.
It’s a long process, and it pains him to watch. You flinch and try to hold still but it’s painful. “What happened?” She asks, finishing up the stitches. “Got ambushed. Bomb blew up the Humvee I was in.” You stare straight ahead. “She needs more training. Research on a computer because you and the other medics shrug her off isn’t good enough. Poor girl had no idea what to do, and the rest of us only know the bare minimum when it comes to medical. It’s the blind leading the blind out there.” König’s accent is deep, he’s angry but he’s holding it back. The medic nods her head. The aggression Y/N had shown earlier showed her that. Intentionally or not.
After the medic finishes addressing your wounds, you looked tired. “You okay, Schaf?” He asks.
Blush rises to your cheeks. “I'm sorry. I don’t know what that means König.” You giggle, looking down. “Sheep.”
“You called me Sheep?” You smile. He admires the way your cheeks burn. “Uh.. yeah. Sorry.” His shy self coming out again.
“No don’t be sorry. I think it’s cute.”
You try to repeat it, butchering it miserably. He can’t help but laugh at it. You’re so cute.
And it makes him want to ruin you.
“I need to go to my room to change my clothes.” You frown. He nods his head. “I’ll walk with you. You can’t go anywhere alone, you have a head injury.” You nod your head. He follows you along to your room, his footsteps behind you would scare you if you weren’t on the same side. “You can come in, I’ll change in my bathroom quickly.” He nods his head, ducking underneath the doorframe to get inside. You change your clothes quickly, coming out to sit with him. You’re wearing a baggy t-shirt and leggings, and he loves it. “You saved my life. And.. I don’t know how to thank you enough for that.”
He looks down, he’s smiling but you can’t see it. “I feel like an idiot for having such a slow reaction time.” You blush. “You were stunned, being close to a bomb of that magnitude and surviving with only a gash is beyond me. Don’t beat yourself up Schaf, you did what you could do.” You nod your head. The pet name he'd given you makes your heart flutter, butterflies in your stomach. “I will go check on Sergeant Wilford, you try to get some rest okay?” You nod your head. “Thank you, König. I owe you.” You breathe. “I’ll hold you to that.” He laughs. He loves the drowsy smile you give him. He wants to do nothing but hold you close to him for the night.
He disappears through your door, closing it behind himself. You take a deep breath. You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.
———
Around 3 in the morning, you’re awake. Your head is throbbing, blood is running down your face. A few of your stitches had gotten torn out through the night and you walked out to the medical area, checking on the solider, picking up everything you needed to stitch up your forehead on your own.
You’re standing in a small mirror that was in the infirmary, hissing in pain as you re-stitched your wound. “sheep, why are you awake?” You jump, dropping the forceps and letting out a groan. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s.. it’s okay.” You try to laugh it off. Heart still pounding in your chest. “Wound tore open in my sleep, I think the stitches were too tight so I’m fixing it.”
“You’re stitching them yourself? That’s pretty hardcore.” He chuckles quietly. “Yeah well. You want something done right, you do it yourself.”
“Sometimes.” He smirks under his mask. “What?”
“Nothing.”
You finish stitching it up and clean up your mess. He once again insists on following you to your room, you invite him in for a few minutes, and this is an opportunity he wants to take.
He’s shy, and he knows he’ll probably fold before he makes a move, but he wants to. So badly.
“What happened to your leggings?”
You’re eyes widen slightly, only just now realizing you had taken them off during the night and forgotten to put anything else on over your undergarments. “oh god. I forgot I took them off. That’s embarrassing.” You stand up going for your dresser. “No need mein Schaf, don’t let me ruin your comfort. I like it anyways.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s just said, cheeks burning in embarrassment.
You freeze immediately. “What?”
There’s no going back now. He had to play the part. “I said I like it.” He stands up. He takes a step toward you and he looks down at you. “König..” you breathe, his hand moving to slide up against your cheek. Your eyes shut tightly. His eyes darkening as you reacted this way to him. This tells him you’ve thought about it too. He grasps hold of your hand, sitting back on your bed and pulling you into him. “Get up here.” He breathes. You swallow hard, climbing up on top of him, straddling his waist.
You felt unsettled in your stomach. A 6’10 killing machine beneath you, and he wants you just as bad as you want him.
“Deep in thought ah?” He lays back onto your bed, looking up at you. He runs his hands up your thighs and you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed. He smiles, becoming aware of the sudden power he held over you, how easy it was for you to give in to him. He grasps a tight hold on your hips, pulling you forward, pushing you back until you figured out what he wanted you to do. You drew your hips into him, sliding up and back, grinding your hips into him. He bites his lip under his mask, a small groan leaving his lips. “Such a good girl, sheep. My good girl.” He breathes. His words striking you. You’re in complete shock.
Pants start to slip from your lips, growing more desperate with each pass of your hips, sliding over his growing erection.
He still had cargo pants on, which makes you think it was probably his turn for watch sometime in the night. He sits up, and you look down into his eyes. He grasps his mask, bringing the fabric up and over his lips. Pulling you in to kiss him. The desperation is apparent as you kiss him eagerly. He grips your hips tightly, pulling you into him. He slides his hand under your shirt as you kiss him. Pushing the shirt up and over your hips. His hands playing the with the hem of your panties. “Lay on your back sheep, let me take care of you.” He lifts you off of him, and you obey him immediately, something he notices and loves. “You’re hurt, I’ll take care of you.” He whispers. Pushing your shirt up over your stomach. He slides his fingertips up your front, sliding his hand over your breast, squeezing it gently.
You were amazed by the face that his huge hands could feel so gentle on you.
“Please König.” You whimper. Lifting your hips into his.
You wanted him. Wanted him inside of you.
He reaches down. Unbuckling his belt. He was far too shy to take his pants all of the way off. But he lowers them just enough to free his cock from its restraint, your eyes widening at the sheer size of him. “S’alright. I’ll be gentle with you.” He breathes. Noticing your nervousness. Like a predator, he could hear your heart beating from a mile away.
“At first.”
Your clench your eyes closed, so nervous. He loops his fingers over your panties, dragging them down your legs. Admiring the way your arousal glistens in small amount of lighting. “So pretty.” He breathes, running his fingertips over your opening. A whimper leaves your lips, your legs opening more.
So willing.
“So fucking sweet.” He growls. He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing the tip into your opening. Your eyes widen at how much he stretches you. “You’re alright.” He leans down. “Promise it’ll feel good once you’re used to me.”
When he bottoms out, a gasp leaves your lips. “Oh my god..” you whimper.
He struggles to slide back out of you, you were so tight around him. He wanted to stay there forever. Your eyes prick with tears immediately, feeling so full, so overstimulated already. He starts out slow, but as you get used to him, he picks up the pace. And you’re a mess beneath him, eyes watering, lips parted. He has to cover your mouth to stop the noises from slipping from your lips. He’s holding back, the metal of your bed would hammer against the wall if he’s too rough. But god does he want to be.
“Can you take it, sheep? Can you take me harder?” He asks. You nod your head. “Need you to be quiet for me,” he pulls away, standing on the edge of the bed, pulling you by your thighs to move you where he wants you, sliding back inside of you and picking you up. Arms under your thighs, wrapped around your back. “Don’t care what you have to do. Stay quiet, sheep. Or I’ll punish you.” You nod your head. He starts fast, and he’s fucking into you hard.
He’s bottoming out with each thrust, your eyes rolling back. You wrap your arms around his neck, biting down onto his shoulder and he groans. “Fucking hell. so verdammt hübsch” he growls, he grips you tight, cock sliding perfectly into you. Everything he’s thought about doing to you up to this point, he knows he can. He knows you'll allow him to do everything to you, just by the way you reacted to his touch. The sound of his cargo pants manage to muffle the sounds of skin on skin, thankfully. If he hadn't kept them on, the way he was fucking himself into you would be loud. The only sound throughout the room were his almost silent groans, and the sound of his belt rattling with each thrust he took, it became the sexiest sound you'd heard.
"Fuck me, wolf. Take all of me." You whisper into his ear, all of the hair on his body standing up as you say it. He clenches his eyes closed, hips hammering into yours until you want to scream, but know that you can't. You bite down on your lip until you're sure you draw blood. "Lift my mask, sheep. Kiss me when you cum." He breathes. "Want to cum with you." You mewl. He smiles and the only way you can tell is by the small wrinkles that form around his eyes. "Almost there." He groans. "Going to fill you full." He whispers. "You're mine. All mine, mein Schaf." He growls, latching his teeth onto the skin on your neck, dragging a whimper from your lips. "I-I'm so close." Another whimper has him on edge. Right there. "Cum with me sheep, kiss me."
You lift his mask to the bridge of his nose, kissing him hard, teeth knocking into each other as you kiss him with more force than you've ever kissed anyone before. You cry against his lips and he can feel wetness dripping down his lips. He wonders for a minute, if it's your tears but than he notices the metallic taste in his mouth. It doesn't bother him. His eyes roll back as he reaches his high, feeling you clench tight around him, throbbing against him. He groans out as he reaches his orgasm, filling you full until his cum dripped back out of you. When his thrusts finally come to a halt, he's breathing heavily and he sets you back down onto your bed. Admiring the way your thighs shook violently. "Your forehead." He breathes out, the other side of stiches that you hadn't repaired had broken open. "m'sorry." He breathes. You blush, looking up at him, wiping the blood from your face. "no.. I'm sorry. I got blood all over you." he smiles. "I'm yours and you are mine. A little blood isn't going to change that." He tucks his still hard cock back into his pants, goes into your bathroom, wetting down a cloth and bringing it back out. As he walks out, his belt is still undone and it rattles just slightly, wetness pooling between your legs as you hear it. He sits next to you, wiping at the blood all over your face. "I know how to stitch, sheep. You want my help?" He asks. You nod your head. He grasps a blanket, wrapping you up in it and lifting you up. He once again carries you as if you're weightless, something you loved. Once he reaches the infirmary, he sets you down onto an empty cot, being careful not to wake any others up. He cleans up your wound again, sanitizing and disinfecting everything, even though it stings. He tries to be as quick as he can, stitching up the gash once again. "A few days rest. So they don't break open again." He whispers. You nod your head. "I'll take you back."
When he lays you down on your own bed, he hears something he didn't think he'd ever hear. You look up at him, those doe eyes he loved so much. "Stay." You whisper. "Please stay." He smiles. "I don't have clothes, sheep."
"Than sleep naked, wolf." You smile. He rolls his eyes.
He asks you to turn away as he removes his boots and cargo pants, leaving him in just a t-shirt and boxers, and of course, his mask. He climbs into your bed next to you, pulling you into him. He's huge, and so warm.
"Sleep my sheep."
#konig mw2#könig mw2#yandere könig#cod mw2#ghost mw2#call of duty mw2#soap mw2#price mw2#alejandro mw2#konig x reader#könig smut#könig modern warfare
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There's Other Kinds Of GM Advice: Theatricality versus Transparency
(This first appeared on the Indie RPG Newsletter)
I find that broadly there are at least two kinds of GM advice – and they have a very different philosophy underpinning them.
The first kind of advice aims at all costs to maintain verisimilitude. It’s a solution that you can implement without breaking the players’ immersion in their characters. This can just be stuff like Matt Colville explaining that if your players are taking too long discussing plans, guess what, orcs attack! We’ve all probably played a game where people were going in circles and not able to decide what to do. If it looks like we’re not able to decide, we’re probably going to be relieved if the GM makes something happen to break the deadlock and prompt us back into the action.
(Historically, this kind of thing was taken to egregious lengths like Gary Gygax saying if players start acting uppity, have a rock fall on their head. It’s mostly gone now but reddit tells me that Cyberpunk Red which came out relatively recently still says something similar.)
The second flavor of advice involves breaking character and talking to your players directly. I know “talk to your players” is a mantra repeated so often that autocorrect suggests it as soon as you type the letter t. At its worst, this advice is vague and unhelpful. We’ve all considered talking frankly to people in our lives, we just find it awkward and hard and annoying. But, but, but – at its best, just describing the problem as you see it and escalating it from a character discussion to a player discussion will make it go away instantly. Like magic. (If you’re not sure what that means: In a previous issue, I discussed Jason Tocci’s excellent advice on escalating conversation in this way.)
And since the theatrical flavour of advice has the weight of history on its side and transparent advice keeps getting boiled down to mantra form, I thought I’d write down some examples of situations and some alternative ways to handle them:
Situation 1: The players are marines discussing whether to dive into the alien lair and recover their stolen engine (their main goal) or go and see if another missing team of marines is okay. There is only 45 minutes left and this is a one shot.
Theatrical: The other marines suddenly come on the radio and say, “hey we’re okay, please complete the mission.”
Transparent: “Hey, folks. There’s 45 minutes left. If we don’t do the alien lair now, we won’t be able to do it at all. Is that fine?”
Situation 2: The players are low-level fantasy nobodies who have a famous wizard friend. They’re about to tangle with some medium-level bad guy and decide to call in their wizard friend.
Theatrical: When the players try to contact her via a telepathic phone call / spell, she sounds breathless and says she’s busy doing something way more important like fighting a dragon.
Transparent: “Hey, folks. If we get the wizard in, she’ll absolutely make this fight a cakewalk. We won’t even need to roll initiative really. Is that what you want? Or would we rather have a fun fight?”
Situation 3: The players were having fun exploring when they meet a cool NPC (an android! an elf! an android elf!) who has this interesting backstory with an urgent, earth-shattering hook. They go along with the android elf because it seems more important but immediately look like they’re having less fun.
Theatrical: Narrate how the android elf meets a group of other android elves and have the elf say, “Hey, now that I have these folks helping me, you can leave it you want!”
Transparent: “Hey, folks. Talking to you as players here, do we want to stick with this whole android elf plot here? It does mean that we won’t do any open-ended exploration. Which would you prefer?” If they want to ditch the elf plot, you could just retcon it entirely or do the theatrical solution.
All of these situations have happened at my table. They’re all relatively low stakes and I think whichever way you handle it, it’ll probably be fine. But that said, some situations absolutely work better when done transparently so if you’ve never tried the transparent way, give it a shot. If immersion matters a lot to you, try it at the end of the session.
/End
PS. The theatrical options often still require the players to willingly suspend their disbelief and go with it. If a player didn’t play along, they might just say “I thought their radios weren’t working, otherwise we could’ve just contacted them before. Why can they suddenly contact us now?” or “Oh, the wizard is fighting a dragon right now. We can totally wait. There’s no reason we need to fight the bad guy right now.” And sometimes I can’t shut off that part of my brain either so I won’t judge. But if there’s a way to sidestep that situation even coming up, I’m going to take it every time.
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Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>
Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her
Enjoy
IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader
Word count: 2882
Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough.
a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa
Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.
It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did.
"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."
~~~
You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel.
~~~
“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.
“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group.
“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?”
~~~
Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home.
As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.
“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.
~~~
You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes.
“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth.
You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.”
You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.
~~~
(smut starts here)
You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch.
You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined.
As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.”
“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you.
“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–
She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix.
“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy.
She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum.
You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can.
You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”
a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome
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omg thank youuuuu g!p loser reader x sana pls 🥺💕
(Perfect moment to bring Sha-rich AHHH)
Daddy’s rich girl who “works” at the company as well with you. Unlike her, you worked your way up to an important position in the company. You invested time, worked and studied hard, and had a position almost as important as her. Almost. Of course nobody could ever have more power than the owner’s daughter, right?
However, the fact that you were able to have such position already spoke a lot about how smart you were. Not a lot of people, specially at such a young age, could get there. If they didn’t know who Sana was, they’d wonder how tf is she technically your superior. Specially when you’re the one who basically does all the work for her.
“Y/n-ssiii” she called in her respective animated tone. You were talking with some coworkers in their desks when you quickly looked at her and gave her all your attention, feeling already cheered up at the sound of her pretty voice.
“Yes, Ms. Minatozaki?” You answered sweetly with those heart eyes you could hardly hide from others, happy to see her already ‘cause you were wondering when was she gonna get to the office (lost puppy behavior-). You knew it was common for her to just show up at any time she wanted to.
“Father has assigned me some hard hard work.” She said with a pout as she showed you a folder. “and I need the help and guidance of the smartest person here, Aka you. No offense, ladies.” She said as she gifted a charismatic smile and wink to the young secretaries you were previously talking to.
Everybody knew that when Sana said “help her”, it meant that you were gonna do all the work for her.
You, of course, would have gladly accepted right away, but you were full of work too, and wanted to take things slow this week rather than having to focus on working hard on your and her work as well. Again.
“I’d love to, but I also have this project and I act-” you tried to explained but she stopped you, already feeling bored hearing the excuse.
“Ah! This is important, y/n. You wouldn’t want our ceo to be missing such an important part of his presentation for this week, presentation that I remind you, you’re part of, right? Or is it that you can’t handle being part of it? ‘Cause If you can’t I can find somebody else that-” now it was your turn to interrupt.
“No!” You quickly said grabbing the folder from her hands. For some reason the idea of somebody else spending time with Sana like that made you horribly jealous (territorial puppy?). It felt like it had more than one meaning. It was more than just somebody helping her with work. “I can do it, ma’am. I’ll have it ready as soon as possible.”
“Sounds great! See you soon in my office.” She said with a big smile as she softly touched your forearm before leaving. You simply sighed, wondering why was it so hard to resist her. You turned around once her silhouette disappeared, just to see your coworkers looking at you and shaking their heads. You shrugged, and excused yourself to your own office to start working.
Some people would think Sana is using you to look good in front of her daddy and his important partners. You had coworkers looking at you with sad eyes, feeling empathetic about “the poor sunbaenim who is too good to say no and has to work so daddy’s girl doesn’t show how unprepared she actually is for this business”. Most of the people in the company liked Sana though, she was charismatic and that’s something that can get you far in life as well. You appreciated her qualities, and saw beyond. But of course there were always those few employees…
“Y/n sunbaenim should be the one with her position”
“Seriously, she’s so qualified. How unfair” some coworkers would whisper. What they didn’t know is that Sana was compensating you and very well for your help with her job.
In her own particular way.
“y/n! Oh my god. y/n~.”
Sana’s moans were getting loud to the point you were starting to concern that some people might be able to hear you guys from outside her office. But being drunk in her taste, you couldn’t care less about that. And Sana didn’t care at all when she was feeling this good, at the end of the day she (her dad-) owned this place. Who was gonna fire her?
You were almost naked, your upper body exposed, your wrists tied behind the chair you were seated on. Your pants were still on though, and your boner was already hurting but you didn’t dare to complain, focus on the task given to you. Not any important report that she needed to have on her daddy’s desk by the end of the week, or any structure analysis of who gives a fuck. No. right now the only thing that mattered was Making Ms. Minatozaki come in your mouth.
But how did you even get here today? Let me explain, it’s easy.
“Ms. Minatozaki, I brought you the latest report as you asked, with updates about last week’s movements in the graphs that our investment teams have been working on.” You said as you entered the woman’s office, several papers in hand battling not to fall as you fixed your glasses how you could.
Right as you stepped a foot on her office, she closed the door with your back against it and locking it behind your back, making you drop your documents and gasp in surprise “w-what’s going on, Ms. Mi-” but you couldn’t finish your question, as she started kissing you like she hasn’t seen you in years. You were caught off guard, moaning in her mouth as you grabbed her forearms. You always loved when Sana kissed you, sometimes you just wished she’d warn you before doing it out of a sudden.
“Ma’am, please, w-wait” you asked, feeling her hand traveling down to palm your dick over your pants “oh god…not there please…”
“Why not? I’m sure it misses me.” The older woman teased with a smirk, trying her best not to laugh. She went to leave wet kisses on your neck, biting it and grabbing your cock more ‘till she was basically masturbating you over your pants.
“Ms, Wait- fuck~ wait! Sana, wait!” You moaned, feeling weak in her hands, containing yourself from simply surrender to her touch was such a hard task, and slowly your brain almost forgot why would you even try to do it anyways.
“You have no idea how much it turns me on when you call me Ms. Minatozaki.” She whispered next to your ear, to then let out a mischievous giggle. “Although my name sounds just as good when it comes from your pretty lips, baby~” Sana teased, and went back to your neck, undoing your tie and shirt. Your trembling hands slowly tried to go to her lower back, but she had other plans “Ah Ah! You’re not using those right now, come here puppy.” Sana guided you to a chair she had in her office, and softly pushed you until you were seated. As she straddled you and went back to kissing you deeply, you didn’t realize that she tied your hands behind your back with your own tie until she stepped up to get something from her drawer and you tried to move.
“Sana? What’s going on?” You asked as you tilted your head, confused but clearly excited, already feeling your member pulsating, needing attention and missing the pressure Sana was giving it when seated on your lap. She was right. Your whole body missed her. Even when you guys hooked up very often you always wanted more of her.
“Nothing we haven’t done before, pretty puppy” she said as she showed you the leash and collar she bought just for you, with a blindfold as well, biting her lip clearly as eager as you were to start.
Oh.
“You wanna do that here?!” You asked her, clearly surprised.
“What, are you gonna tell me you don’t want it?” She asked back giving you a “you know damn right” look. Sana knew, you could never tell her no.
“… no ma’am.”
And that’s how you ended in the position you were in.
“That’s it baby, keep going like that. I’m gonna come~” you heard the older woman say as you basically fucked her pussy with your tongue, and you wished you could see her facial expressions but again, you didn’t dare to complain, not wanting to be punished. Even though you couldn’t see her, all of your other senses were very awake. The taste of her pussy against your tongue, making you drool creating a mess on her cunt as you felt some of it on your chin. The sounds of her voice moaning your name, as praises also filled the air. The sensation of the leash being pulled, keeping you as close as possible to her. Everything was having you on edge. You felt you could almost come untouched just by pleasing this woman.
Just as she stated, Sana came in your mouth, holding the leash and your head in place as she grabbed your hair a little too hard, sending a little pain, but not too much that you were uncomfortable.
“Fuckk your mouth feels so fucking good…” she moaned as she moved your mouth all over her cunt, helping herself ride the last highs of her orgasm. “It’s time to help you now, isn’t it puppy?” She asked in a cute tone, teasing you over your pants with her bare foot. With how neglected your cock felt, your hips automatically moved towards her foot, desperate for friction. This made the older woman laugh, you were such a cute needy puppy for her. “aw don’t be weird, puppy. I’m not using my feet for that. Got something better for ya.”
And as the seconds feel like ages, with the uncertainty of the darkness, you felt her hands slightly moving your pants to let your member free, and you felt how it hardly slapped against your own stomach. The sensation of your own precum making you groan, but you didn’t find it bothersome actually. The fact that it was still coming even when Sana wasn’t stimulating you at all in any ways made her hungrier for you.
“Aww, poor you. That probably hurts, doesn’t it darling?” She cooed. You nodded, a pout decorating your lips as soft whimpers started to leave them. An almost too loud moan escaped you once she started to slowly jerk you off “Shhh it’s ok, I’ll take care of it.” She said as her palm was now all over your tip, playing with the precum. You thought she was gonna make you come like this, until you felt the overwhelming and warm sensation of her tight pussy. God it felt like heaven. With how sensitive you were, and the desperation of not being allowed to touch her with your own hands. You felt you could come in any second.
Sana started riding you at a steady pace, knowing you were close but also not wanting you to finish too soon. She was playing with the pace, torturing you and enjoying the sounds you’d make when she slowed down robbing you of your own orgasm. If only you could see that damn smile she had on her face. “Sana, please… stop playing with me.. I need to come, please.”
Ouh she loved the sound of that. How you desperately begged her, knowing she had full control over you in every aspect. She needed to hear it more. “Hmmm ask again baby. Ask again and I’ll think about it.”
“Please, please, I’m begging you ma’am, please..” you sobbed, needing your sweet release, unconsciously thrusting your hips up, fucking her as fast as she was fucking you.
“Fuck..! Just like that, baby. Keep fucking going like that. Fuck me good.” She moaned between teeth in your ear, feeling herself getting close to her second orgasm as well. As you came, the sensation of your seed inside her drove her crazy, jumping even faster on your cock making you sob and ask her to please slow down, feeling overstimulated. But of course Sana didn’t stop until she was making a mess on your cock, making you fill her up even more.
———————
For somebody with her own office, she surely enjoyed rather going to more dangerous and small corners of the building.
“Wait, they’re gonna hear us…” you whispered with the little reasoning that was left in your mind as she quickly unbuttoned your pants while you were against the door of a janitor’s closet.
“No, I don’t think they will.” She said as she took her panties off and made you take them into your mouth before getting on her knees.
“Sana, we have a lot of work to do, please.” You said, taking her small piece of clothing out of your mouth for a second.
“Then let’s make it quick, and put that back in your mouth, now.” She said and before you could argue, she started sucking on your tip, moaning at the taste. Your eyes almost went completely white, getting already watery ‘cause of how sensitive you felt and how good Sana’s mouth was. You couldn’t help but to thrust your hips a little, hoping she’d get more of you inside her warm mouth. “Hey what did I tell you, hm? If you wanna fuck my mouth, you ask for it.” She scolded, teasing part of your shaft with her teeth “Understood?”
“A-ah~ yes ma’am. Can I please fuck your mouth?” You almost begged her, your voice coming out muffled ‘cause of her panties and you clenched the edge of the table next to you to try and have some self control while you waited for her answer.
“That’s better, yes you can baby.” She answered as she put her tongue out, giving you more access to her mouth, eagerly waiting for you to use it as your own fuck toy. And of course you did, getting deep inside her throat creating such wet and impure noises that would make whoever walks outside that closet turn around and leave the whole floor. Sana took it out of her mouth as she tried to catch her breath, replacing it with her hand instead. However, you were quick to put it back in, grabbing her head firmly.
“Nu-uh, we can’t risk it falling on your clothes. We can’t go to our meeting all dirty. You’re gonna swallow it all, aren’t you, baby?” You told her looking straight into her eyes, and she nodded, knowing she had no other option. She looked so cute like that, giving you those puppy eyes. People thought nobody could have more power than the owner’s daughter. Yet here you had her, on her knees listening to your every word and letting you use her mouth. People could call you a pathetic loser if they wanted to. As long as you could enjoy Sana. Not so long after, you came in her mouth almost making her choke. Still, she made sure to take everything you gave her, licking your dick clean, and getting a little too excited that you almost were starting to get hard again. However, you grabbed her arms and pulled her back on her feet, you guys had an important meeting and you were almost already late. She groaned, complaining and clearly wanting more “I promise after this meeting we can go wherever you want and do whatever you say, but please let’s go. We worked hard on these papers, remember?” You told her with a pout, a surprising switch on you that Sana was still trying to get used to.
“Ugh, fine..” she sighed as she rolled her eyes, and you both carefully got out of the closet (be who you areeee) after making sure you were presentable.
Getting to your meeting like nothing happened, clearly in a better mood than earlier that day, your cheeks red and sometimes stuttering as Sana continued eye-fucking you, fantasizing about what you promised earlier and impatient for the day to end to take you home,but she had the biggest smile planted on her face ‘cause there’s nothing she loves more than playing with you and having you around her finger during office hours.
A lot of people thought she was just flirting and playing with you, making you nervous or dreaming about a chance with her just so you would do whatever she wanted, but never actually batting an eye your way. The way Sana thanks you for your help (which she very much enjoyed as well, so it was a win-win for her every time), you could honestly say it was very fair tho.
Now, Sana was no idiot. She knew damn right what it was told about her and the way she treated you. She knew some people thought she was taking advantage of you and manipulating you ‘cause you were too good and innocent. You looked so shy and well behaved. “If only they knew” she thought. Yes, you were sweet, but innocent? Impossible, and if you ever were then she was sure she already broke you ‘cause with how easy she made you hard, and with how hard you pound on her, it was impossible to consider you innocent. Well behaved? Of course tho, you were so obedient for her. Just for her<3.
Continuation here <3
#kpop gg#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#twice x y/n#twice x fem reader#twice x reader#twice#twice sana#twice imagines#twice scenarios#twice smut#sana x reader#minatozaki sana#twice sana smut#g!p reader#loser reader
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he said something hurtful
characters: childe & zhongli
genre: hurt and comfort
wc: 1.4k
Childe
it’s been such a stressful day for the eleventh fatui harbinger. all these paperwork but no place to let out his pent up frustration to; battles. he’s been stuck to the duty for too many days now and when he said it was not going to get to him, perhaps that was overconfidence.
“here, i made you tea hope it helps you to relax a little,” you said as you put the glass on his desk at a reasonable distance away from his work. he hummed a lazy response as gratitude. you’d learnt not to take these gestures to heart since he’s palpably stressed and you all of people knew that childe is the most loving man you’ve ever been with. “anything else i can do for you?” you asked, genuinely wanted to assist him in any way you could. he just shook his head, “it’s fine,” he said curtly.
“massages? back rubs? need me to get anything from somewhere?” you tried again, seeing his not so good expression at a particular part of the paper he’s looking at, wanting to at least ease him a little.
“gods, (y/n),” he said with the most exasperated tone that it made you a little nervous. “can you be quiet for a second? what the hell do you think you can do for me?”
you gasped quietly at the outburst and childe regretted the words as soon as it came out from his mouth. “(y/n), baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean th-“ but you quickly cut him off, wanting to get out of the room as soon you can. “i’ll just leave,” you whimpered, voice clearly holding back tears. at this childe’s heart twinged with even more guilt, he swiftly chased you and brought you close to his chest. “i’m sorry, that was stupid and horrible of me, sorry (y/n),” he repeated the apologies as he rubbed circles on your back. you held back a sob yet to no avail tears still fell to his shoulder. “i just wanted to help,” you mumbled. “i know and you do, my baby always does the best things for me,” he kept you in his hold as he planted kisses on your forehead. “i always worry over you, childe. if i bother you i wish you could’ve just tell me nicely.”
“i’m sorry, i took out my frustration on you, ‘m sorry baby. won’t happen again, i promise. please don’t leave.” childe’s hold on you got tighter, he wished he could turn back time and hit his past-self for running his mouth like that when you’ve been nothing but kind to him. he brought your face close to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs. you looked at him, the apparent raw regret painted all over his face. “stay? please?”
“mhm, but none of that again, okay? ever,” you warned him. “promise. sorry again, you’re too good to me.” he continued embracing you.
Zhongli
you had promised zhongli to assist him with his work, he asked you to bring over a document from clerk zhao 9 a.m. sharp as it is was a very important task to do. he told you that a few days prior about it saying that he would have no time to do it himself thus asking for your help since there’s nobody in the world he trusted more than you. and of course you were more than happy to do it if it helped him even just a little.
the said day was approaching. you felt that your body was slightly sluggish the night before as you prepared to go to bed yet you thought nothing of it and assumed would get better if you just slept it off, but you were wrong. you woke up feeling extremely sick along with a terrible headache. but that wasn’t your biggest concern, you looked over the clock and its hour hands clearly showed: 9.30 a.m.
with your best ability at your current condition—which was very limited, you quickly forced yourself up and rushed to do the task zhongli has entrusted you in. you were struggling as you arrive at feiyun slope area that even clerk zhao showed concern and asked if you were okay which to you answer that you were just fine, when in fact you were clearly not. yet your bigger worry that minute was getting that document to zhongli as he said that it’s a very important matter and you must not be late. however with such a sick body, you arrived at the wangsheng funeral parlor a little over ten a.m.
you burst open his office, “zhongli, i’m so sor-“
“where were you?” he cut you off rather rudely, and he does not do that. “sorry, i-“ you tried again.
“i had told you that this is a very important matter, yet here you are being carelessly tardy.” his usual gentle tone was nowhere to be found, you found yourself in a very bad state, it took everything out of you to just even stand up right that second and he couldn’t see that. even clerk zhao immediately noticed it. you were not even going to make excuse, you just wanted him to listen. “zhongli, please listen-“
“this was such a mistake. i regret relying on you.” he swiftly took the paper on your hand, his back turned and faced you as he sort out his business on his desk. it wasn’t until he heard a sniffle that he had realized what he just said. mistake. regret.
“dear, i-“
you were already started to leave his office, one of your hand was on the wall supporting your own weight as you felt extremely weak and fatigued from all the running around a sick person should not be doing.
“(y/n), wait please i—you’re very warm!” he claimed loudly as his hand touched your arm. “sweetheart, do you have a fever?” he reached out a hand to feel your forehead but you swatted it away. “it’s nothing, just get back to your work.” you attempted to release yourself, but zhongli had another idea on mind as the former god of rock suddenly carried you to a room where there’s a bed as he lied you there and tucked you in a blanket. you who barely any strength just let him did whatever as you turned your back on him the moment your body touched the bed. the wound from his words still fresh on your mind as you cried. you knew that it was your fault that you’re late, however zhongli acted way out of line. his tone and harsh words were very unfamiliar to you.
zhongli looked at your back as he was eaten away by guilt. if only he could just listen. to think he was very adamant to not listen to you when all you wanted to do was to explain yourself and he said that crap instead which he didn’t mean at all.
he truly meant it when he said he would entrust even his life to you.
zhongli was late on realizing the severe damage he just caused over the harsh words he spouted in the heat of the moment. whatever the reason, he should have not done that, not to anyone, especially not to the love of his life. but in reality was he did.
“love, i apologize.” he knelt beside the bed. when that met no response he continued, “that was very foolish of me. i didn’t know what i was talking about. you’re my whole world, i rely on you the most. how very stupid that i could even have the nerve to say that when i do nothing but lean on you everyday in my life.” his voice heavy with remorse as he hesitantly rubbed your arm, trying to soothe you. “to think i just made my sick lover running around like that... i apologize.”
“i wasn’t trying to make excuses, zhongli. i did not choose to be sick.” your voice was meek, zhongli’s chest squeezed in pain, how could he make you say things like this. “of course not, even with your condition you still did your best for me and i reacted like that, i really deserve your anger.”
he saw that tears still ran across your face and it broke his heart. “dear, please, what i don’t deserve is your tears.” he gently turned you to face him, wiping your tears with his fingertip. you slowly stopped crying as zhongli kept whispering apologies and sweet words. “why don’t you get some rest first? we’ll talk again after you feel better,” zhongli said softly. you who had no complaint over that only nodded, getting the sleep you’ve desperately needed.
seconds before you fell into your slumber you could feel a kiss on your forehead. “(y/n), i love you very much.”
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin fanfic#genshin x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin fluff#genshin angst#childe x reader#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x reader#genshin childe#zhongli x reader#zhongli fluff#childe angst#zhongli angst
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You def fed the people with the dry humping post LAWD 🧎♀️🧎♀️
May I humbly request a continuation with inumaki 🙇♀️🙇♀️🙇♀️
The song says lady boner gone but tbh lady boner is definitely still here…
Since you asked so humbly! 🤭
YOUR ACTIONS ARE DOING ALL THE ASKING,
I CAN FEEL YOUR BODY TREMBLING.
More dry humping ♥︎
FT. Toge Inumaki
X READER
WARNINGS: 18+, AFAB reader, Toge says actual words that aren’t verbs like “yes” “okay” and so on, semi-public sex, eventual penetration, creampie, not proofread (i’ll do it later leave me alone…)
It was just like Gojo to make a big deal about his own birthday. Plan a huge surprise party for himself at one of, if not the, most expensive restaurants in Tokyo and offering to pay for everyone who showed up as well as inviting all his students and co-workers. While he was rather charming, most of his friends tended to come from work or were his students and half of them found him annoying so he basically had to bribe you all to show up.
As expected you were sitting at one end of the table with the rest of the second years, which really only consisted of your boyfriend, Maki, and Panda. Yuta was still overseas… Lucky bastard getting to skip an awkward dinner party that was mostly just Gojo and Itadori having loud conversations about nothing important while the rest of you whispered amongst yourselves.
“Toge, what do you plan on getting?” Communication was hard as his lover, because you had to be careful what you asked and he had to be careful how he responded. Verbs weren’t allowed in day to day conversations because he feared he’d accidentally end up using his cursed speech on you. This was a simple question, though. He could answer truthfully without consequences. But he didn’t; Your boyfriend fell silent.
This piqued your curiosity and you lifted your gaze away from the menu to make sure everything was alright. However, you found yourself blushing profusely when you were met with a look that could only be described as hunger. Hunger for you. He was nearly undressing you with his eyes, letting his gaze drift all over your body and take in how gorgeous you looked in your nice low cut top and jeans that hugged your hips perfectly. The way the necklace he got you rested on your collarbone and dragged all his attention to your chest.
“Toge!” You whisper yelled at him, glanced around the table to make sure nobody was watching, and then gestured to the obvious tent in his pants. He finally looked away to where you could only see the tips of his ears going red. “Really? Now?”
“Salmon…” The way he said it was very pathetic, because he knew he should be slightly ashamed but all he could think was the dirtiest of thoughts.
“…” You gave a huff and leaned in to whisper, “I’ll meet you in the bathroom in like five minutes.” Don’t forget the light smack on the arm and a “hurry up!”
Exactly five and a half minutes passed when you were excusing yourself from the table and rushing off to the bathrooms. You had never been to this restaurant, and to your dismay the only options were bathrooms with various stalls, meaning you were very much at risk of being caught. After successfully sneaking you inside the men’s restroom, Toge had pulled you both in the furthest stall from the entrance. He had no problem finding out what he wanted from you, because he was also positioning you just right.
Your ass flush to his crotch, which was still raging hard and seeming like it didn’t plan on ‘deflating’ any time soon. You pressed your palms up against the stall door to keep yourself steady while you bent over because if anyone knew how much Toge enjoyed seeing your spine arch to amplify how plump your bottom was it was you. As expected, he was already giving a low groan of his approval.
Starting off at a slow pace, his hips were moving just like they would if he was really inside you, feeling your warmth. Shit, if it weren’t for the fact you guys were at your teacher’s birthday party maybe he wouldn’t have hesitated to take what he wanted. But since he was such a gentleman he figured he would avoid making such a big mess around all your guys’ friends.
A whine fell from your lips, and almost instantly he had leaned over your bent figure to cover that pretty mouth with his hand, grunting a low “Roe,” in your ear that was pretty clear it meant ‘shut up’. Of course he couldn’t really say that, Toge was too addicted to the soft moans you made to make you silence yourself entirely.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his hard on poking at your ass, or how his cold hands were pressed against your tummy, sliding up your shirt to make you shiver and squirm. He was damn near panting in your ear, trying to keep his mouth shut about how badly he wanted to be inside you or to feel your mouth around his cock to keep it warm.
“Toge,” You whined as quietly as you could. You didn’t want to get caught. How embarrassing would it be for a friend to walk into the bathroom and catch you two in the act, hearing your voice and knowing automatically what was happening? He grunted as a response, another way to tell you to keep your voice down. “Please, Toge…” But on the other hand, your begging was so cute. “I want you inside me so bad.” Well, if anything this night has told you how easily you can make him hard.
He pressed his lips to your neck, trying to resist your request and instead just focus on leaving you sweet kisses. Yet he couldn’t hold back from the way you grinded back onto him, your every movement clearly desperate. With a huff, your boyfriend straightened himself out and made quick work of your clothes. Fingers carefully yanking your jeans down by the belt loops, hissing when he noticed the circular stain in your panties that told him everything he needed to know. He teasingly brushed his hand against you, cupping your sex and letting his hand drag upwards over your ass and to the waistband of your underwear, taking his sweet time to slide them off and let them drop to your ankles.
You were trying to be silent when he initially slid himself in, but good god did you miss the feeling of him being inside you. The feeling was clearly mutual too, because he was, once again, hunched over with his face buried in your neck to stifle his little, pathetic whines. As much as he wanted to lose himself and just rail you like it was all he knew how to do, every thrust was slow and passionate to avoid making so much noise.
“Can I-?” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, because you already knew what he was going to ask and what your answer was going to be. With the nod of your head, he was pulling back to hold either side of your ass, rutting his hips forward as far as he could before painting your insides white.
It was quite awkward shuffling out of the restaurant with only the excuse that “something came up” while you were trying to not let his cum spill from your panties. That ‘something’ being your boyfriend’s dick. Again.
If Inumaki was talking with someone and he told them to go fuck themself as a joke would they actually do it??
It’s a little hard to write for Inumaki because I have to avoid phrases that can be seen as instructions or taken literally. But it’s worth it because I love him
As always, requests are open!!
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#inumaki x reader#jjk inumaki#inumaki toge#jjk toge#toge inumaki#toge x reader#toge x you#inumaki x you#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu toge
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bimbo starter kit ✨💖
it can take a while for a bimbo to feel comfortable with cosmetic procedures, or even just to secure the necessary finances to take the next step in her journey! here are a list of things you can start on right away while you figure out the rest.
1. exercise! a bimbo's body is her best weapon. try to aim for a couple times a week at least. if you don't like running, try pilates, yoga, dance, anything. it's just important that you feel connected to your body in some way.
2. spray tans! for me, this really amps up my sex appeal. my skin has a golden hue that a spray tan really brings out. if i don't have time to go get professionally tanned biweekly, i'll use a tanning mousse instead. it gives a similar effect, but the spray tan is a bit more realistic.
3. manicure and pedicure! what is a bimbo without her claws? i personally love having acrylic nails. i don't have them right now because i can't have acrylics when i go in for my breast augmentation, but i almost always do otherwise. i like barbie pink or long white claws. both are very feminine and look great wrapped around the base of a cock or squeezing a beautiful boobie! having your toes done is also important - nobody wants to suck on and lick mangled feet, and you need to be prepared to be worshipped at any point in time.
4.new clothes! i literally threw everything out and started fresh with a wardrobe of basics. 5 pairs of tiny short shorts, about 20 basic tops in pink, white, and black. I am working my way up towards more exciting statement pieces and building up my shoe and purse collection, but this all takes time. In the meantime, you need clothes that look good on your body and show off your best assets. after my breast augmentation, i will be getting a bunch of new clothes from brands like skims, alo, for love & lemons, etc. for my more bimboish pieces, i kind of just shop around, but i think it's important to have a ton of basic pieces so you can create endless outfits. the mini skirts, fur coats and heels can come later - once you have things to wear them with that make you look super stylish and more importantly... show off your body.
5. get your hair done professionally! most bimbos like to be blonde (myself included) and unless you're already blonde to start with, i see absolutely no reason you should do this at home. save up some money and find a hair stylist in your town who specializes in blonde hair. you won't regret it, and there's nothing bimbo about having crusty, fried hair. if you're not certain if blonde is the best route for you (it probably is), ask a stylist! pink also looks adorable on bimbos with a more cutesy y2k style. a good haircut with some face framing layers can also completely change your whole look.
6. whiten your teeth! invest in a whitening foam and tray, or just use strips. i've had a similar effect with both.
7. get good with fake eyelashes! they elevate any makeup look from fresh to sexy. once you've had lip filler, lip gloss and lipstick will also become your new best friend.
8. silly little accessories! may i suggest a pink lollipop or bubblegum? this will help keep the attention on your perfect little mouth all day and will also give you something cute to distract yourself with while you fantasize about being used out in public.
#hyper femininity#bimbo doll#girlcore#bimbo babe#bimboification#coquette#dollette#it girl#coqeutte#girlblogging#bimbolife#bimbo goals#bimboization#bimbo hypnosis#bimbo training#bimbofied#bimbocore#bambi bubbles
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Can I ask Johnny, Tomas and maybe some others being mind numbingly in love with the reader??
Like theyre so in love they don't know how to act so they always make a fool of themselves and feel so stupid after???
author note: love this prompt. Added Liu Kang so I could write for my 3 fave boys🫶🏻.
Johnny Cage:
-He doesn't leave you alone. His eyes always search for yours even for just a brief glance.
-Johnny smiles way more around you and also listens to you like the universal truth is flowing from your lips.
-Everybody can tell he has a crush on you. The problem is that nobody takes him seriously.
-When you talk to Johnny face to face, he totally gets lost looking at your face. He has a dreamy expression and will totally bite his lower lip.
-Damn, he doesn't remember a word you said, but he could listen to you the whole day.
-Johnny shows off every time you get near him, blabbering on how good he is at everything. How can you not fall for such a dripilicious guy?
-"Look at me, I'm winning this for you!" He's gonna lose.
-But you can tell his sentiment is pure. Maybe calling it love is a stretch, but Johnny isn't joking…most of the time.
-Even if he keeps failing wooing you, Johnny not gonna stop. He doesn't have any shame, so he doesn't mind failing. The moment of dejection always lasts very little.
Tomas Vrbada:
-The guy gets obsessed.
-He keeps glancing at you, but the moment you look back, Tomas turns his head down like a kid getting caught stealing from the cookie jar.
-You fill his brain. Tomas trains? He thinks of you. He eats? He thinks that he'd like to share this delicious food with you.
-And damn, when Tomas doesn't have any important mission going on, his mind starts to wander. He is like a schoolgirl jiggling and kicking his feet in the air every time you are just normally kind to him.
-The kind that hugs his pillow when sleeping, thinking it is your body.
-Tomas is down deep, so deep it reaches his knees, and he can't move.
-He is a sweet guy, it happenes to him to stutter and for his cheeks to get tomato red, but Tomas is reaching new peaks.
-Once Tomas was talking with Liang at Wu Shi Academy. He turned his head and his grey-ish eyes locked on yours, Tomas then missed a step and fell down the stairs rolling directly at your feet.
-Tomas knows he looks like a fool, but it's not like he is doing that on purpose. He'd gladly smash his head against concrete if that would make him go normal.
-Thankfully, Tomas will get normal, that you like him back or not, but before reaching that point, there is a long road ahead…
Liu Kang:
-After living for so long, after shaping so many timelines, Liu Kang thought to have learnt from his and others' mistakes.
-You never have a part in his life, that's why it comes as a surprise when you both start to work together.
-It wasn't planned, Liu Kang didn't have to pull any strings. You just…happened.
-And something blossomed in Liu Kang's heart, a feeling he once felt but forgot for aeons.
-He is in love.
-Liu Kang may have lived for centuries, but he didn't gain any rizz. His good boy charm long forgotten since he became a god. He is still nice but much less loose.
-And it shows.
-Should he give you gifts? But what should he buy? Looking at your life in the hourglass wouldn't be right. But the temptation is high.
-At times, Liu Kang is just chatting with you, and something shiver inducing (and not for pleasure) slips out his mouth. Obviously, Liu Kang notices but a minute to late. He'll gladly dig his own grave with his bare hands.
-He is so fucking sure one day you'll tell him to stop bothering you.
-Liu Kang desire to touch you is immense, but you still haven't reached that point in your relationship.
-When you sit next to each other, drinking a hot beverage, every fibre in Liu Kang's body screams to touch you. Tracing the lines of your face with his fingertips, brushing away the hair that hides your face, losing himself in your eyes.
-Liu Kang is lovesick.
-Every step to make you close is really hard for him, so blinded by his own feelings that he doesn't see that they are reciprocated.
-You'll totally need to take the first step.
#mk x reader#mk1 x reader#mortal kombat x reader#mk headcanons#mk1 headcanons#mortal kombat headcanons#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#liu kang#liu kang x reader#tomas vrbada#mk1 smoke#tomas x reader#smoke x reader
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Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!
I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.
If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!
If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
self-slaughter — python333
— — — —
synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 6.6k
warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!
It gets kind of old after so long of doing it.
Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight.
Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts.
And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either.
Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago.
The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important.
However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment.
All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder.
The scalpel looks so tempting.
It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off.
Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves?
Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep.
It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool.
You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now.
It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true.
You’re still staring at the scalpel.
Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting.
You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife.
You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself.
It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations.
You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough.
About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it.
The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind.
Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about.
The fists your hands have formed become tighter.
Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring.
Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel.
You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin.
Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain.
You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.
Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself.
You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger.
With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed.
Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.
Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun.
Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar.
The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred.
So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go.
You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.
You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.
All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.
Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.
You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area.
You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart.
In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it.
There’s a knock. Then another.
The door handle twists.
You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second.
The door opens.
“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?”
He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip.
“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.”
“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried.
“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.”
“... Ye sure?”
“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.”
“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?”
“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.”
It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.”
You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”
You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.”
“Ye whit?”
“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—”
“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.”
You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.”
“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die.
You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally.
“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions.
“No.”
“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?”
You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others.
“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?”
You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred.
“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.
He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters.
You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive.
You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.
When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s.
The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far.
Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word.
“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?”
“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest.
Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.”
You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself.
You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.
Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well.
Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.
“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.
With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads.
“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence.
“Soap didn’t fill you in?”
“No.”
You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention?
Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?
“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].”
He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.
You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled.
Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings.
But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no.
Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit.
“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.”
Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.”
“I never said it couldn’t be.”
He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk.
You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—”
“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.”
“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.”
“But I—”
“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks.
You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you.
Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.
It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left.
Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit.
You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more.
Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?”
You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it.
Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms.
Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again.
“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.”
You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you.
Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.
“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.
As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself.
Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better.
"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click.
He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier.
“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters.
You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly.
You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin.
His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure.
Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once.
Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.
Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it.
Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort.
They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did.
They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more.
Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned.
“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either.
Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?”
“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”
You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.”
“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.”
He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?”
“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin.
“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question.
“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.”
“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?”
You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either.
“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.”
“Us ‘four’ being… ?”
“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally.
Your words affect them more than you thought they would.
Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince.
It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?”
You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you.
“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.”
“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.”
“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz.
Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price.
“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably.
“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did.
And then, it was just you and Price.
It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.
“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple.
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.”
“Wanna give me some more detail than that?”
“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.”
“I do.”
“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—”
“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.”
“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.”
“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.”
You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.”
“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.”
“But you just said that I was strong.”
“I did.”
“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”
“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks.
“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.”
“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.”
You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up.
“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.”
“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.”
“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.
Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."
He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."
for those curious, the bthb card so far:
#cod#hcs#cod hcs#task force 141#tf141#platonic task force 141#platonic taskforce141#captain john price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#price#ghost#soap#gaz#mw2#platonic task force 141 x reader#platonic cod#platonic price#platonic ghost#platonic soap#platonic gaz#hurt/comfort#heavy angst#whump#found family#request#oh my god this took so long#so so sorry#gender neutral reader
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Idk if you write for Vox, but can I request some headcanons with Vox being with a S/O who’s like a gamer/streamer? Like they would be streaming different games and sometimes would even get Vox to appear in their streams and have him play games with them - I can see Vox raging at a game if he loses and his S/O would just find it cute
Btw may I be called 🍡 anon if that hasn’t been taken yet??
Haha! Oooh! I actually REALLY like this idea! Vox would get even more popularity with us and we’d get a lot of popularity with Vox! I like it and the concepts is cool! Thank you so much, Mochi! Have a wonderful day!
Vox- Cameras and TVs
Vox automatically likes any partner that enjoy and use his advanced technology and since you’re a influential streamer on Tremor that uses the latest tech to keep up your career, Vox likes your tastes even more and he also likes to watch your streams. He finds them interesting
Vox, at first, was mainly your friend and your set-up provider, he’d give you the tech for your streaming career and that more casual business relationship turned into an actual one. He had grown to enjoy your streams and yes, let me say, he is actually a fan of yours
Vox eventually wanted to push up that friendship to a relationship after a few months of knowing you and getting to learn about you, so he begun subtly flirting with you, his crush growing every single day and possibly out of luck or out of his own rizz working, you agreed to go out with him. Ever since that moment, you nor him regret it
Vox may or may not travel through your gaming PC screen, just to say hi and give you a cute kiss right in front of your stream. It’s quite a surprise and he knows it’s spread around online since nobody would ever suspect a infamous streamer like yourself to be are seeing the Vox himself
Vox often only enters your streaming room when he wants to tell you something important or he wants to give you food or more Vox-like, he wants attention and hugs. Every single time he does this, he ends up playing your game with him after you encourage him
“Hmm… I don’t know, Honeypot, games aren’t my thing…”
“Come on, Voxiepie! Just try it with me! Don’t worry, i’ll help you!”
After a few seconds, Vox is already absorbed in the game that he can’t help but rage so much that the house temporarily loses power and he rushes to fix it to try save your stream. He does this a lot but you find it cute, nowhere near annoyed with it as anybody else would be
Sometimes, Vox will enter your stream then just sit you in his lap so he can watch you play and enjoy your presence, all without pulling you away from your screen or your games. To him, you look so attractive when you’re focusing on kicking ass in your little fantasy videogames
Yes, Vox promotes your merch on his show sometimes and promotes people who like streaming and videogames to watch your Tremor streams. He is a fanboy and he’s proud of how much he likes your work, he isn’t even ashamed of it. He admits it to the Vees without a single ounce of shame
Vox will wear your merch at times. Just randomly in the house you two share or whilst he is privately working as an Overlord. He loves the hoodies and the tees, they are comfortable AF and sometimes, he just goes to sleep in them
Vox is possessive so you know he is not only your Tremor mod, he’s also the one who tracks down to destroy any stalker you may end up getting from your streamer career, he also collects all your limited edition merch since he wants everybody to know you belong to him
Vox is very supportive of this career. Some of it, he isn’t a fan of but a lot of it, he loves and he is getting better at these games. Despite how often he rages at them
“Honeypot. How much have you eaten today? I hope you ate that takeout I ordered for you. Yeah? Good. What game did you take five hours to perfect this time?”
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel au#hazbin hotel characters#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel imagine#vivziepop hazbin hotel#vivziepop#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox x reader#vox#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#boyfriend imagines#boyfriend#headcanons#cute imagines#cute boy being cute#vox ain’t that bad#supportive boyfriend go brrrr#streamer reader au#gn reader#romantic headcanons#romantic#romantic vox#romantic vox x reader#lovers#overlord vox
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OOUGHHH been thinking about Grovyle lately and how much I just *clenches fists* love him. Listen to me. Listen,
He is the character of all time. He’s introduced as a wanted criminal stealing something SO forbidden that even the worst Pokemon criminals won’t even touch. That immediately shoots his coolness factor through the ROOF. And the fact that nobody is able to catch him;; AND we see that he’s ridiculously clever and smart and can worm his way out of just about any situation with a bit of quick thinking. And he’s always surrounded in this air of mystery and intrigue and you’re set up to think well yeah he’s stealing Time Gears and stopping time everywhere OBVIOUSLY he has to be an asshole. Except during your first encounter with him he’s very calm and collected and shockingly polite, and even apologizes when he attacks you?? Basically just the opposite of what you’d expect from a criminal. And then to top it off you find out he’s from the FUTURE?? Which is SO sick. And he’s got some secret history with Dusknoir. And when he’s finally captured and being brought into Treasure Town all tied up he doesn’t even act out UNTIL Dusknoir mentions the planet’s paralysis. Which is the first hint you get that things are a leetle sus.
And when you get taken to the future and are about to be executed…he helps you? He has literally zero obligation to do so, esp since you’ve attacked him before. And there’s another subtle hint that maybe deep down he’s got a soft side, that he’s actually not a bad person. And it’s heartbreaking bc he finally knows someone else who is a common enemy of Dusknoir, and he clearly wants to team up with you, bc all this time he’d been by himself in the past and having people he can trust would make things so much easier (and it’s startling how easy he trusts others, too, especially considering everything he’s been through). But your partner isn’t having it and you can FEEL the disappointment he feels that he’s not able to convince you, that you aren’t going to work together, that he can’t have someone else to rely on besides himself. But that little spark, that glimmer of hope comes back when you catch up to him and you’re like yeah we’re going to decide for ourselves what we think about all this. And you find out from Celebi that Grovyle’s always been hasty, always hurrying ahead to try and achieve his goals, and it’s admirable but also regrettable bc he doesn’t ever have time for anything else.
And THEN you discover the truth…that he’s been your partner all along…and he speaks of you so fondly and has such faith in you that he’s totally fine leaving things to you and letting himself get captured because he trusts you SO much. And the despair right after when he finds out you’ve been traveling alongside him the entire time. His precious partner is also going to get captured and executed and the world is doomed to fall into disrepair. But then your partner ignites that spark of hope again and it’s enough, and you make it back to the past, and suddenly things are different but in a good way because Grovyle suddenly has someone to rely on again, even without a memory to go with it. But he can also tell that because of your amnesia he’s no longer important to you, not by choice of course, but you’ve found someone else, a partner suited for you that brings out the best in you. And that’s fucking heartbreaking because everything the two of you shared is gone now, and you’ve moved on, and even though you’re THERE you’re also so far away and so different from the person he once knew. But he knows he has to let you go, had to from the start anyway, because of the sacrifice you were prepared to make. That BOTH of you were prepared to make. And despite the fact that you have no memory he still. Trusts you. Completely. Enough to sacrifice himself to take Dusknoir back to the future. And believe that you’ll follow through with the vow you made and prevent the planet’s paralysis. And he KNOWS you will so he doesn’t know how much time he has left but it doesn’t matter because he’s been prepared to disappear, to die knowing that he’s saved the future, that he made his mark and was able to shine in his finest moments. He can leave this world knowing he did what he set out to do and he made a difference and things will be better for everyone he’s leaving behind. Shut up. Shut UP. I care about him so much I am GOING to explode. THE character ever. You don’t understand,
#I’ve been in love with him since 2008 and I will love him until the day I die.#Fuckign Grovyle PMD. Love of my life. TRULY the best Pokemon character ever written.#Shima speaks#Pokemon#PMD#Pokemon Mystery Dungeon#Grovyle#PMD Grovyle#PMD Sky#PMD2#PMD Explorers#Sorry for the word vomit I’m just SO emo right now. God dammit.#Long post
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jealously, jealously - e.w
pairing: ellie williams x reader
a/n: this is my application to be your favourite soft ellie writer
she feels stupid. how could she be so upset and jealous over something like this?
you and her met up with some of your old friends. it was just a small get-together at one of their apartments. but your friend, abby, wouldn't stop staring at you.
her eyes were glued to you and it was like if she looked away, she would die.
it wasn't a friendly stare either. her eyes were full of lust and want. abby was basically undressing you with her eyes. and whenever you spoke, ellie noticed that abby's eyes immediately flickered to your lips.
ellie wanted to say something, she really did. but she didn't want to come across as possessive or controlling. she didn't want your friends to think they weren't allowed to look at you without her getting upset.
it was the drive home when you noticed something was wrong with ellie.
"you're very quite, els." you say, briefly looking over at her before your eyes flick back to the road.
you notice ellie shuffle awkwardly in her seat but decide not to say anything.
"just thinkin' bout' stuff," she mumbles, tracing her fingers over the veins on her hand.
you hum, "thinking about what?"
ellie shrugs, "you know, the normal stuff."
"ellie, 'normal stuff' in your brain could be random dinosaur facts or sex. you gotta be more descriptive."
ellie smiles slightly, her eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before falling back down to her hand.
"it's nothing important,"
you pull up to a red light and take this moment to fully focus on ellie.
"baby, you were quiet with my friends and now you're quiet in the car. tell me what's going on."
ellie couldn't control the tears that filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks. she turned away from you immediately, not wanting you to see her cry.
you go to comfort ellie but the light suddenly turns green. you drive to the nearest car park and quickly pull ellie into your lap.
your heart breaks as ellie wraps her arms around you and cries into your neck. your hand slips under her shirt and you rub at her back, attempting to comfort her.
you have no idea why she's crying.
"ellie, baby, talk to me." you kiss the top of her head and brush her baby hairs out of her face.
ellie shakes her head and holds onto you tighter, almost like you were going to vanish if her hold was too loose.
you stay like that for a while, holding her and whispering comforting words into her ear. ellie's cries finally turn into small hiccups and whimpers.
"i'm sorry," she apologises.
her voice is so weak and small that it causes your heart to shatter into another million pieces.
"you have nothing to apologise for," you say "but you need to tell me what's wrong, els."
she sighs and buries her face back into your neck. her breath fans across your neck, making your goosebumps rise.
"i'm just- it's stupid," she mumbles.
"nothing you say is stupid."
ellie hums.
"abby was staring at you and her eyes were just full of lust and it was making me upset how she was looking at you. i wanted to say something but i couldn't."
she looks up at you with eyes full of sadness.
"she made me jealous and angry," she continues "jealous that someone was looking at you like that and angry that someone thought it was okay to look at you like that."
more tears fall from ellie's eyes.
"i didn't want your friends to think i was crazy possessive either. people can look at you, but, just, you know."
you wipe fallen tears off ellie's cheek with your thumb. you kiss the top of her nose.
"oh, my sweet baby," you kiss her on the forehead "i want you to know i'd never ever think of abby like that, okay? i love you and only you."
she nods.
"i'll talk to abby about it. she doesn't get to make my girl upset." you feel awful for not noticing abby's behaviour.
"and nobody would think you're crazily possessive over me, okay? my friends would understand. abby's done this a few times before." you explain.
ellie nods again and grips you tighter. she rests her head on your chest and closes your eyes. it doesn't take long for her to fall asleep.
you kiss the top of her head again and close your eyes. you both could use a nap before driving back home.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#tlou#melposts
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